Actually you should be beaten for that
Previous issues
Week 30: „The new girl“
Week 29: Mr All Right
Week 28: Sustainability
Week 27: Why antibiotics
Week 26: Ingrown nail
Week 25: Mask Drama
Week 24: Nurses' diagnosis
Week 23: Care Officers
Week 20: MDK assessor
Week 19: Care service
A rollercoaster of emotions. That's probably how you could describe the past week. There wasn't much going on in my private life. Only a bit towards the weekend. My parents were visiting this weekend and I think they've been looking forward to seeing me again for a while. I haven't seen my sis for even longer than my parents. It's about time (Sis, that's a peg). And even longer - sad but true - my girlfriend. Holiday time is diving time. As much as I wanted to be there, I was out. I didn't take the chance when I had it. One of the very few things in my life that I regret. Unfortunately, it can't be helped. At least she wasn't eaten by the hammerhead sharks she was diving with and is now with me for a few more days, without work, before the normal madness starts all over again. So I'll keep my presentation of this issue's winner correspondingly short. New in seventh place this week, another case of „My carer knows better than I do whether I'm in pain“.
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- Cover me up, strip me completely naked and „clean“ me in bed with surface disinfectant, then soap me from head to toe. And let me freeze for two hours until the washing is ready. More on this? You can find it here: Basic care
- Now I have certainty. My beloved sister is visiting. And takes photos of my mask, every time one of my carers claims that the band at the back is already behind my ears - it doesn't go any higher. I was mistaken, I have a perceptual disorder, I'm just imagining it. The photos, however, prove the opposite. Read more at here.
- „The new girl who knew everything better but couldn't do any of it. Who started every shift by explaining why she couldn't work today either. Instead, she preferred to spend her time drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and making private phone calls on my balcony. Just like she did during her first induction. She refused to do the second one altogether, just like the documentation and care instructions. To read here. And here. Here too. And the here we still have.
- That could have backfired badly. We were lucky in our misfortune. Does someone have to die for something to - maybe - happen? My doctor is convinced that I should have been fever-free two days earlier. After three days of antibiotics, paracetamol, Ibu 600 and Novalgin, my body temperature has to go down permanently.
As is so often the case, my doctor was right. Even after one day, the fever went down noticeably and permanently. After two days it is practically gone. But I have to be given the antibiotic. Unfortunately, this information was lost because there was no documentation due to a lack of clear instructions from the management and due to a lack of serious control, everyone did what they thought was sensible. And because there was no handover. Because nurse A is always late and doesn't give a shit. And nurse B therefore plays the offended liver sausage like a toddler. No more talking to A. As a result, the patient gets twice the amount of antibiotics or, as in this case, none at all. Don't get me wrong, of course mistakes happen in nursing. No one means me any harm. But this must not happen.
But it happens. For the second time in four weeks, which is why it enters in podium position 3.
You can find the whole report here. - You still remember my Nail fold inflammation? It felt like months ago. It was during my sister's last visit to Germany. And she comes to see me - Yippieh! ? - is coming to visit me again next week. She'll be amazed when she sees this next week. It was almost better after my doctor said, please do not put anything on it. Just disinfect and leave it alone. Um, leave alone and trust the doctor, my nurses can't do that. Well, apart from the sort who, even after explicit reforestation, hardly complies with the request to store me properly at night.
Story to follow. A little teaser. Ploughman A has independently decided to stop disinfecting. Wait a minute? Yes, the same carer has just squeezed out pus. Strange things have been happening since he was forced to work for me by his PDl for days, completely exhausted and not at all receptive. I really - really really - think he has post-COVID. Carer B smeared Lavanid on him without any orders and without asking me. Carer C picked at it. Carer D removed the scab, even though the doctor specifically said we weren't allowed to do that. Carer E tells me that everything has healed perfectly and that I shouldn't tell my doctor about it. It can't really be that I'm supposedly in pain.
I inform my nurses and still inform my doctor. He comes by immediately. Inflammation again. Pus. Blood. Some contaminated ointment residue. Swab taken from skin and sent to lab. Thank you. To the whole team. - To serve up one of the most implausible old wives' tales I've ever heard to a surprise visitor who enters the flat with his own key on a Saturday morning. Of course he didn't drink the can of Jackie Coke. Some completely retarded person threw it in the rubbish and now the whole flat smells of it. He took it out of the rubbish to rinse it out. More on this? You can find it here: The insensitive sick person.
- The nurse who is incorrigible. Despite photographs of evidence, he cannot be convinced that ligaments that are too tight cause pain. With the result that I suffer a grade 1 decubitus behind the ear. Under the band of the respiratory mask, of all places. A place where wounds heal particularly well. Would you like a photo? You can find it in the detailed report here.
- The nurse who knew about the miraculous spontaneous healing of my toe when I hadn't even noticed it. And he informed my doctor, although he had neither looked at the toe nor asked me how I was feeling. Because if he had, he would have known that the pain was getting worse, not better. You can read about it here: His 7th words
- Discussion with a nurse about whether it is really nail inflammation, as my doctor claims. She is of a different opinion. If she has her way, I'll have to get a new chiropodist immediately. Mine did a very poor job and didn't even do anything about the ingrown nail. How can she judge this better than my doctor, who has already examined the injury twice with a scalpel and the like? (By the way, you can read here and here.) Because she has the problem too. Oh, guys, you're really getting on my nerves.
- Statement from three of my carers on what they think about sustainability and conservation. "I really don't care what happens to the earth after me.
