"Experiences of surgery on perforated appendix and..."

Anything else?

I was told by my doctor to go straight to a&e after experiencing severe abdominal pain. On the way to the a&e I was vomiting and in distress and could barely walk into the waiting room. Once in the waiting room, the receptionist ignored my mother and I and carried on with her conversation with another member of staff despite that it was clear I was in great pain. Eventually she told us to sit down and wait, which we complied with, however the pain in my abdomen intensified and I had to crouch on the floor, in tears. My mother went up to the receptionist to ask if I could be seen sooner, only to be abruptly told that I would have to wait for the triage nurse. By this point I was vomiting into a bag. My mother pressured the receptionist and finally she beckoned the triage nurse who strolled over with a sick bag and then took me through to a&e.

I was then told to wait in an interview room before a doctor could see me. I cannot fault the doctor who saw me as he was kind and reassuring when I was clearly very anxious and in great distress. However, I was left alone with my mother in the interview room for long periods of time, and often when I was in a lot of pain my mother would have to leave the room to try and find someone to help and was frequently ignored.

After nearly twelve hours of being stuck in a&e I was moved to a side room on Fairfax ward. I had a long and uncomfortable night, but the nurses who were working were kind. Yet, it was a different story in the morning. I woke up to find myself in very severe pain in which I could not move, I buzzed for the nurse but no one came, after ten minutes I rang my mother to ask her to come in quickly as I was in severe pain, needed help and no one was answering my buzzer. Twenty minutes later a nurse came in the room, ignored me and went straight to turn the buzzer off. I told her I was in a lot of pain and she left the room and came back with two paracetamols. As she turned to leave the room, I said, crying "I'm in so much pain" and she answered sarcastically "well, that's what the paracetamol is for, love". I cried even louder then, tears of anger and outrage. Would I be in hospital if my condition could be cured by two paracetamols? It was only after my mother arrived that I was given the morphine I needed.

Later that day it was decided that I would have to be operated on and was moved to the 23hour ward. I waited and waited, until someone came down and said it might not be today. I was very upset by this. I knew at that moment my condition was not life threatening, but if the abdominal abscess had burst it could have caused life threatening peritonitis. My mother asked them if they could try and do it that night, and thankfully I went up for surgery after 10pm.

My experiences of the 23hour ward were mixed, some of the nurses were lovely, some had no time for me and underestimated the seriousness of my condition and how inhabilitatted and vulnerable it rendered me.