She asked how I felt but I could not pretend that I was feeling any better than I was but I managed to whisper to her that I had got through the night and apart from my hand hurting and the nauseating headache I had not deteriorated significantly although I was concerned that my left arm and shoulder were noticeably weaker. We agreed that Helen would come back at her tea break and hopefully by then the consultant would have done his rounds and he might have a clearer idea of what my illness was and what could be done about it. Just then the senior nurse arrived at the bottom of my bed and proceeded to put another 10 bottles of IVIG on the over bed table, she could see my expression of incredulity at having to suffer another eight hours of infusion and explained that this is what the consultant had prescribed. So you can imagine that after not eating for three days or showering and shaving for two and with a very sore hand and stinking headache I was not in the best frame of mind when the consultant duly arrived with an entourage of junior doctors. I was still sat in the bedside chair with a blanket over my shoulders, with another over my knees and my left arm resting on a pillow laid across my lap, they examined my notes and discussed my current condition and then the consultant asked me how I was feeling. I think had I been in top form he would have received a fairly acerbic reply however all I managed to splutter was that my hand hurt, and that I was very concerned about my headache and blood pressure levels which had been recorded at a very high figure something like 210 over 112, he checked my notes again and said that he was happy that this was a temporary situation and replacing my notes on the end of the bed the whole group moved onto the next patient. I was completely phased by this as my GP had spent the last three years trying to get my blood pressure under control and now it seemed that it was all going to pot. This brought me to such a low ebb that I just gave into my emotions and tears started to run down my cheeks and I was still in a state when a young nurse came to do my ‘obs’ she asked what the problem was and I repeated that because my voice was weak I felt that I was not being listened to and that no one was any taking notice of my concerns over my blood pressure levels or more particularly my headache which worried me a great deal as both my parents and three of my grand parents had died from cerebral haemorrhage. By now the consultant and his team had left the ward so she asked me what she could do to help, I replied that if she could get me something to write with so that I could send a note to the consultant it might get the message across.
