People in intensive care receive many separate medicines, including sedatives, painkillers and muscle relaxants, and all of these can affect them in different ways.
While some people said they 'drifted on and off', many others find it difficult to sleep well in intensive care. Being attached to lots of equipment and being unable to move often causes discomfort. The ICU environment itself - the lighting, frequent medical interventions, visitors and noise - prevents sleep in some. Others find the environment frightening, hot or busy.
Sometimes dreams and hallucinations cause anxiety, confusion or disorientation and some people find it difficult to distinguish between dreams, nightmares, hallucinations and reality. Dreams can be unpleasant, pleasant or just strange...
A fragmented string of thoughts about my time in Lincoln Intensive Care Unit.
Breathing tube, tube up my nose, canulas, wires. Everywhere, wires. But I never questioned why I was like this.
It never occurred to me to ask how ill I was.
I remember not being able to move and people having to do everything for me. Not eating and not wondering why I wasn't eating. I simply took it for granted being in there. Typing this, it amazes me that I simply took it all for granted as if it was normal.
Doctors would talk to me, tell me they were doing this and that. Obs would be done. I didn't like the ventilation tube. I was always thirsty and all I could have was a swab in my mouth every so often. I had my own nurse. I remember a nurse called Helen. She was my most favourite. I felt like she actually gave a damn. She would clean me, make me comfy, talk to me even though I couldn't reply. Sometimes I would talk to her with pen and paper. I remember she washed my hair for me. I asked for it to be washed with cold water. I must have really been burning up because I remember how fantastic it felt. Her and my wife Helen were chatting over me as they usually did. Their parents lived near each other when my Helen was younger and Nurse Helen was apparently named after her. Well, that's how I heard it. Lincoln is such a small place.
At this point, I must mention Carol. A nurse with the driest sense of humour. She couldn't have taken the piss more! She would wind me up as often as she could. Some days I dreaded her coming near me but most of the time, she was hilarious. She had a captive audience in me. Literally. Plus I couldn't answer back for quite some time. Once I got rid of the ventilation tube I gave as good as I got. She's brilliant.
It was at this point I was told how lucky I was to be alive. Quite sobering and stuff I wanted to hear but didn't want to hear if you get me. Patients with my or similar condition don't usually survive. (HA! tell that to the insurance company!!) If it wasn't for me having a good fitness level I'd be dead. Fact.
Helen had told me that I nearly died. I think this was back in December. It took me days to come to terms with this. I'm not sure I have actually come to terms with it. As a family we have been able to talk very openly about how it affected us all. For my wife and children, it must have been awful. They had to live with knowing what was going on on a daily basis. And 3 months is a long time. Yes, I was the one in the bed but I hadn't really got a clue what was happening for most of the time. Like I said early, I simply accepted my circumstances- never really questioned why I was in ICU for so long. I just let them get on with it.
Hallucinations occurred regularly. Do you want to know what sort of shit was going on in my head? Of course you do or you wouldn't have read this far-
I thought there was a purple nurse on the ward- keep her away, she wants to kill me! And that is the tip of the iceberg…plenty more where that came from...
Once a week the ward changed into an RTA mock up where the general public could view a car accident happen. The walls had moved, beds were moved to accommodate this, parts of the ceiling- almost like a movie set- were cantilevered down. And there was an eerie silence. There were people, but they were quiet. No staff about. And me. Stuck in all this rubble, waiting to be moved or just someone come and talk to me!
Another time I was on an American air base. There was a kid next to me. No one else. A doctor came in and told me one of us was going to die. Anyway, the kid died and they asked me- because they knew I was a photographer- to video the service that was to happen. I sort of knew something was wrong so I was trying and trying to get out of my bed. At this point reality kicks in. I'm now 50-50 reality and hallucination. Nurses turn up as I'm now hanging out of my bed as I try to 'escape' but at the same time the penny begins to drop that a/ I'm covered in wires so I can't really go anywhere and b/ actually, I can't walk!
I forgot to point out, by now I've lost 3 stone in weight and I'm beginning to look like something Bob Geldof would want to feed up! My arms and legs are like twigs. I cannot stand easily. I cannot walk. When I was finally asked to stand and sit in a chair, it took 3 nurses 15 mins to help me do this simple feat. We take such things for granted. I felt like I was 90. It was awful. (My hair was dropping out too- think it was the drugs. 5 months later and it was all back again- phew!)
A few weeks in, I was moved off the main part of the ward to my own room. Apparently I had contracted MRSA in one of my wounds and was unclean! This room brought with it a different set of hallucinations: Every third day was cake day! One of the nurses ran a small cake business from home and would bring orders in for the staff. The menu was in the ceiling- I could see it from my bed!! And just outside the door I could hear this lady (she was American) passing doughnuts, buns and muffins out to everyone.
At night I couldn't sleep. I didn't sleep well in ICU. They'd give me sleeping pills and all sorts of stuff- enough to knock out an elephant- didn't touch me- still awake over here! :(
Also, my heart rate was running fast. All the time it was fast. This worried the doctors a bit. It just wouldn't slow down…unless my wife was with me. If Helen was there I would relax- even if I was unconscious - it seemed the only time I could relax was when she was with me. Even the docs and nurses thought that odd.
In my little room, I always thought there was someone in there behind me. Just a feeling. I would often ask my nurse if there was or had been anyone else in. When I revisited ICU and saw the room again I realised that actually there was only room for machines behind me- couldn't swing a cat in there!
At night in my room I was on a boat. A boat that was taking me away. The staff were cruel and didn't give a damn about me. Just that I was quiet and did as I was told. I had a heart monitor clipped to my finger or sometimes to my toe. You know the ones- it's got a red light inside it… makes your finger look like ET's. Anyway if you take it off, alarms go off and someone has to come to you. Occasionally I'd flick the thing off because I couldn't reach my buzzer. But when I was on the boat and did this, the evil nurses used to really tell me off. Right that's it, I'm escaping. Another stupid idea from yours truly. I pulled out tubes from my nose, canualas out of my arm and started work on the arterial line and my central line when I got a right telling off (I think quite a few alarms went off this time) and I was fighting back! What the hell was I thinking! I could still hardly stand, let alone manage to 'escape' -and this happened more than once. I was asking to me moved to a different part of the ship! What a nutter!! Then one day I noticed something. It was a mark on the ceiling- maybe a plaster board line or something. I used this as a point of reference. If that point of reference was there… then no way could I have been kidnapped to the boat. The following night, I was back on the 'boat'. Then I found my POR and really struggled with this but was soon back in the room. I had defeated one of my hallucinations.
So, even now I'm still remembering things. It's about 10 months since I was in ICU and I still get flashbacks and fragmented memories come and go and I've shed alot of tears. I've been in every emotional state, done an awful lot of shouting, been frustrated like you cannot imagine and there isn't a day that goes by when I do not think about it all. Yes I'm bitter, yes, I'm angry but I have my life back. My family has me back. All thanks to the people in Lincoln's Intensive Care Unit.
Now the whole point of me blogging all this is to make YOU realise what happens in ICU and for YOU to put your hand in your pocket or log on and sponsor me to raise money for Lincoln's ICU.
Remember, one day you could end up in there.
UPDATE: Today is 29 Jan 2014 and I find out more intel.
Whilst in ICU, I was to have been moved from Lincoln ICU to Nottingham ICU and Biliary Unit. I was always under the impression that I was not moved because I was too poorly and was on 90% assisted breathing whereas the ambulance could only cope with 60% assisted breathing. It now transpires it was the fekking ambucoptor... not the ambulance! Might not seem much to you but to me... FFS!
UPDATE: Today is 29 Jan 2014 and I find out more intel.
Whilst in ICU, I was to have been moved from Lincoln ICU to Nottingham ICU and Biliary Unit. I was always under the impression that I was not moved because I was too poorly and was on 90% assisted breathing whereas the ambulance could only cope with 60% assisted breathing. It now transpires it was the fekking ambucoptor... not the ambulance! Might not seem much to you but to me... FFS!
