My heart goes out to you on reading about your horrific experiences over the past few months.
It has to be one of the most shocking stories I've read on here.
How you keep your sense of humour is beyond me, but thank God you're able to retain it - and your fighting spirit.
I felt I just had to reply, because your story really struck a chord with me
Your experiences took me all the way back to my darkest days in 2005.
Within days of having my very first PSA test (it came back at 182) in March of that year, I was having a biopsy done under general anaesthetic by a urologist.
I should have been home in six hours, but it was 7 days and six hours before I was able to leave hospital.
Everything went wrong, and was made far worse by neglect.
Through the first three days of agonising pain, none of the staff would listen properly to my complaints about something being wrong. I knew that the catheter wasn't functioning as it should. Time after time I was ignored.
By the fourth day, I was passing out and becoming delirious. My face was grey, and my pain was so bad that my wife rang the kids, telling them to get down to the hospital as fast as possible.
It was only through the intervention of two consultants (from another discipline) who happened to be visiting the urology ward that I was saved. Before I knew it the panic button was pressed, curtains were pulled around the bed, I was injected with morphine. and a team of nurses were helping the consultants clear masses of blood clots.
I will never forget the first words of the consultant who had spotted me. She said 'Never let yourself get into so much pain again'.
I can't remember answering, so must have passed out. My wife tells me I was delirious for a long time. Luckily, morphine blotted out those memories for me.
Chris, from that day on, my attitude to my PCa and its treatment changed forever.And of course, my opinion of that urology department, from consultant down to nursing staff is unprintable here.
The experience (and my anger) lit a fire in my belly which burns to this day. I vowed I would never again allow any clinician to treat me badly.
Looking back, I'm glad I experienced the worst side of care so early in my battle, because it made me 100% pro-active in choosing my treatment (and my doctors). It may even have helped me survive so long after the terminal diagnosis.
I have never had to raise my voice in anger, but have found that being very firm (but oh so polite) has seen me through the last ten and a half years with no further bad experiences.
Luckily I have an oncologist I have complete faith in, and after so many years we're more like friends than doctor and patient now. If only they were all as good.
You have suffered far worse than I did, and for much longer. If any good thing can come out of all your pain, it's that you can use the experience to make you stronger and more determined than ever to win through.
Wishing you a full recovery and some much happier, brighter, pain-free days ahead.
And - I hope to see you at The Mill next June looking 'damn good and worry free'
All the very best,
Edited by member 20 Oct 2015 at 11:48
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