The Beginning

Upon arrival to the UK, Bekah made it to London in impeccable time. However was forced to wait for Suze, as her plane was delayed due to multiple mechanical problems. We made it through the underground (metro) with no problems and free tickets from some hunky European males. However, there were multiple staircases which did not go well with all our baggage. The tube stop is about 23 minutes from the hospital without luggage, so who knows how freaking long it took us to commute from there with it. But we do know that this trip was extended due to the fact that Bekah’s handle broke on her rolling suitcase. Being as her luggage is about three feet tall and Bekah is 5’9” and cannot carry the 40 lbs that the luggage weighed, this was ridiculous. Suze wished to take a picture, but Bekah was quite unhappy and in pain. So there is no documentation… you should all be sad about this. And did we say it was uphill?

We live in the Nurses’ Home at the hospital, meaning our commute is less than 5 minutes, but our rooms are shoe boxes. The door knobs all turn crazy ways, right one way, left the other. But do not think that there is method to this madness, Suze’s doorknob turns right, and Bekah’s turns left to enter. We have uni-sex co-ed bathrooms, but we rarely see other people in there. The sinks have two knobs, one for hot water and one for cold. This makes it virtually impossible to wash your hands with the appropriate temperature as the hot water is extremely hot. So much so that is has a warning label beside it! The stalls for the toilets are nice with full doors and offer plenty of privacy. The shower is also very private and in a room by itself. Blessedly, the water is hot and with good pressure. Unfortunately, the shower has a push button to release the water. This means the stream stays steady for about 8 seconds and then requires that you push it again. While this may seem like a long time to a bull rider, it is not long enough to rinse the soap suds out of your hair, much less take a complete shower. We estimate that we average about 12 pushes per shower. And it can get quite cold between bursts. It is a bit like taking a shower at the boardwalk of a beach. Except that it is more private and the water is warm.

So, a little bit about where we work. The Royal Hospital for Neuro-Rehabilitation is a privately funded not for profit organization. Patients can stay here anywhere from 3 months to 50+ years. There are several wards in the hospital with specific designations: Huntingdon’s, Parkinson’s, brain injury, etc. The ward where we are working, Drapers, is a brain injury unit. The differentiating characteristic to allow a patient to be on Drapers ward as opposed to another brain injury ward is that the patient must be able to communicate. This can be anything from verbal communication to giving a thumbs up or thumbs down for yes and no to Suze’s patient who is locked in and can only indicate her feelings by moving her eyes or neck. Drapers ward has 20 beds, all of which are full at the moment which is rather unusual, so we are told. The patients who come to Royal Hospital are very severely involved. Many of the patients cannot participate in transfers, and must be moved using a “hoist”. Though it is called Royal Hospital, it is not a traditional hospital. They do have a nursing staff, but do not handle critical care patients. If a patient were to have a critical acute problem, they would be sent “to hospital” until they were stable enough to return to us.

Word of the Entry: Physio = also known as a physical therapist, or a designation for your time in therapy. In a sentence: “It is time for your Physio”



P.S. Some people have been wondering what locked-in really meant. and according to the ooo so reliable wikipedia: Locked-in syndrome is a condition in which a patient is aware and awake, but cannot move or communicate due to complete paralysis of nearly all voluntary muscles in the body. It is the result of a brain stem lesion in which the ventral part of the pons is damaged. The condition has been described as "the closest thing to being buried alive".