Hobby

Throughout the years I have had many hobbies but lately I have found myself without one. Maybe due to the demands of work I just haven't had the time or the inclination to do anything else. I find myself in a position now where I have time on my hands and not enough things to fill it with. So I decided to find myself a new hobby.

This sounds simple enough, find something you like doing and do it a bit more often than you used to. The trouble is trying to find something that you will like doing and not get bored. I have a notoriously short attention span with regards to the duration a hobby lasts. Example, my stepbrother and I both bought identical Airfix kits and had a competition to see who could complete the kit in the shortest time but with the best precision. For the duration of the task I was completely immersed in achieving the goal and nothing could sway my focus. It was great fun so we bought another but this time it wasn't as entertaining and my precision lessened. I think this lasted about two weeks before I got bored. What began as a fun activity turned into a time consuming chore.

Another hobby I tried was scrap booking but again this lasted a short period of time. I think I managed to create three completed pages in an entire album. I still have all the bits and bobs but I have absolutely no interest in filling the remainder of the album. I have a bookcase full of books, some half read and others I haven't even touched other than to place them on the shelf. Comedy writing was another short lived pastime. I have a notepad somewhere with finished and unfinished sketches with ideas scribbled down waiting for me to complete them. Poetry was an interest once upon a time as was walking. I have collected various different things from stamps when I was younger to Formula 1 memorabilia more recently.

All of these things have been a hobby at some point in my life. I can't explain why I get bored so easily. When I start something all of my energy and attention is focused onto that one thing almost obsessively. Maybe I pour everything I have into it too quickly? Do I need to tone down my initial enthusiasm? Nothing seems to keep me interested for very long. It's almost as though once I have achieved something I need something else then something else. A kind of been there and done that thing, mission accomplished.

After wandering through the never ending suggestion lists on the interweb I decided that I would try painting. Yes I have a sketch book with drawings and watercolours in there. So I have attempted to do this before but this time I'm going to really try and keep it up. The other thing I enjoy doing is photography. So I might try to get involved with that a bit more. I don't know how long this will last but I really feel I should be doing something productive with my time rather than idling it away. Plus I hope the painting will help with the dexterity of my hand. In reality I know this sudden burst of creativity will only last a short period, it always does.

Olympic Torch Relay

So on the 9th July 2012 the Olympic flame passed through Oxfordshire. My friend and I decided to mark this occasion by going to Blenheim Palace. What better backdrop to watch this once in a lifetime opportunity. We got there at about 11:30 as we wanted to go inside the Palace and have a wander around the grounds. There was nobody there really just a few tourists. The red carpet was laid and they were doing the sound tests. The torch wasn't due to arrive at the Palace until 15:55. When we got back to the main courtyard about two hours before it was due there was a definite increase in numbers.

About 1.5 hours before the torch arrived we went to pick our spot. Right by the steps to the Palace opposite the red carpet and of course at the front. As time went on more and more people arrived and eventually it was absolutely packed. We had no idea what Woodstock was like but seeing the news it was clear that it thousands of people had turned up to line the route of the torch. We were in our own little bubble inside the Palace grounds. We were handed the lyrics to Land of Hope and Glory and a flag.

Eventually we could hear cheers and looking up the courtyard we could see a person in white running down towards the Palace. It was here! It seemed to take an age for the runner to make it down to the steps. In reality it probably didn't take that long at all. She ran up the steps and it was here that the next runner put her torch to the flame and did the 'kiss'. We obviously got to see the now famous police officers escorting the flame in their grey track suits. The Duke of Marlborough made a speech and did three cheers then other 'important' people made their speeches. I was looking around taking it all in and notice that the police officers had two lanterns with them carrying the spare flame. Then came the moment for us to sing as the flame carried on its journey. The next torch bearer made her way slowly as the crowd sung. I would have but I didn't know the words and I was crouched on the floor so people behind me could see. My friend was stood up with the lyrics, that was my excuse anyway.

I didn't see any other VIPs but I did spot Douglas Hurd the former MP. The Prime Minister was apparently around but I didn't see him.

At the same time as feeling very privileged to have been in the position to see the Olympic flame in such amazing surroundings I feel it wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be. I don't really know what I expected to feel but I wasn't overwhelmed by the whole thing. Of course it is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I am pleased I was able to witness it. It definitely will be a story to tell when I am in my twilight years.

What it feels like to be intubated

I had my operation on the 13th May and it all went well. It took me hours to come around from the anaesthetic but apart from that it was ok. One thing that was a little distressing was being conscious when they took the breathing tube out. It was a LMA (laryngeal mask airway) rather than an ET tube (endotrachial tube). ET tubes enter the windpipe whereas LMAs don't. Even so it wasn't a nice experience and out of the four operations I've had this was the first time I remembered them taking the tube out. I was only meant to be in hospital overnight but due to a minor complication I had to stay in a little longer. The problem was retention which is known post anaesthesia but uncommon in females apparently. Let's put it this way I will have a greater respect for any of my patients that have or require a catheter. Apart from the embarrassment of having it inserted you have to think about every movement because believe me you do not want to tug on one of those! How people pull them out with the balloon inflated is beyond me. Two days after my operation was when it really kicked off. I only know what I've been told of the Friday and what happened after I regained consciousness. At 07:30 I was found with a GCS of 3. For anyone unfamiliar that is completely unresponsive to anything. Normal functioning people have a GCS of 15. The doctors did sternal rubs which are incredibly painful and for days after I had a bruised chest. Nothing. The patient opposite said it was quite scary seeing me in this situation. The doctors didn't know what was going on and were escalating it up the ranks. Eventually I was taken to HDU (high dependency unit) where the decision was made to intubate me (put me on a ventilator). I was transferred via ambulance to A&E resus at another hospital, had a CT scan of my head to make sure there was no bleed and taken to intensive care. It freaks me out that all this happened and I have absolutely no recollection of any of this. My first memory was hearing voices and the feeling that something was in my mouth. One of the first thing I remember hearing was 'Are we going to have to cut her pyjamas off?'. I can't really remember seeing anything until I was extubated (tube taken out) and on oxygen. I vaguely remember my friends being there but not much else. I obviously started to get agitated as the staff kept telling me I was ok and that I was in ICU. As I became more aware I felt a need to breathe but I couldn't. At regular intervals my chest filled with a pressure which felt so awful. I realised I was intubated and on a ventilator. The pressure I was feeling in my chest was my lungs filling with oxygen. The more awake I became the more agitated I got and I remember bringing my left arm up towards my face but was repeatedly knocked back down by the nurses. Even though the ventilator was breathing for me I felt like I was suffocating because my natural breathing reflex was again present but there was a tube blocking my airway preventing me from taking my own breaths. If I thought that was hideous it was nothing compared to what came next, suctioning. The nurse passed the suction catheter down the ET tube and as soon as it touched my windpipe it triggered a coughing/gagging reflex. Of course I couldn't cough and the feeling was horrendous. In between the awful feeling of the suctioning there would be the pressure of oxygen being forced into my lungs. Being so out of control was almost unbearable and created a sense of panic. Not only had I woken up in a completely different ward in a completely different hospital, I had woken up intubated. Despite the reassurances of the staff telling me it was alright it really didn't feel like it. When the moment came for them to extubate it felt like such a relief. It was terrible feeling the ET tube being pulled from my windpipe, it felt like it would never stop. Then more suctioning but this time with a Yankeur and a great deal of coughing. To take breaths myself and be back in control was, well, I can't describe it. I just can't describe how it felt to have my lungs fill but to not be breathing. I couldn't work out what the intense pressure was to begin with. It was almost like the sensation you get when you wretch before vomiting. An involuntary reflex, which it was essentially, but it wasn't my stomach contracting. A short sharp burst of pressure rather than a natural slow inhalation. Of course I couldn't speak after the trauma of being intubated. It took days for my voice to return to normal. I am incredibly grateful for everything that was done to help me but it truly was one of the most distressing experiences of my life. I woke up with an arterial line and four large bore cannulas attached to various things. I still have the marks from where they were inserted three weeks on. They must have dug around a lot to find the artery in my wrist because it took nearly two weeks for the pain to subside. Fortunately it was only a short stay in ICU and I was transferred back to the hospital I came from to the relief of the patient opposite me. She was just glad to see I was ok. I'm used to emergency situations (dealing with them as opposed to being the cause of them) so I couldn't really appreciate how terrifying it must be for other patients witnessing something like that. I total I was in hospital for 10 days and I must say the majority of the time I was treated very well. I had my stroppy moments but I think it was frustration. It was difficult trying to remain a patient and not to put my nurses hat on and occasionally I would turn nurse but I think it's unavoidable when you are in this situation. One thing I am sure of is that this will make me a better nurse. I have experienced things that nurses don't normally experience. I've felt things that nurse don't normally experience. Nobody knows the reason for my what was essentially a coma. I have my theory but it will remain just one of those things.