Early Hours in A&E, Royal Berks.Hospital, Reading

Last Friday night (8th June) at 11.45pm, while we were in bed asleep, Roger had another seizure. We haven't even attended the MRI scan appointment yet, that was made when the first fit occurred in April. It's on 28th June the earliest they could manage.

Anyway! I knew exactly what it was this time. I thought Oh No! Not again! It lasted about 4 minutes, during which time he bit his tongue exactly like last time. I thought to myself now I know what's happening, provided everything goes the right way, I won't call an ambulance, but just monitor him myself.
I have read up on the internet what to expect, and if I can spare him a trip to A & E department, then I will.

However, when the seizure had passed, and Roger could once again speak & respond, he told me his arms hurt badly. That was a concern, so I rang for an ambulance, and we landed in the A & E dept. of the Royal Berks hospital. We've been there before many times when it's been horrendously busy, but luckily it didn't seem particularly 'pushed' in the early hours of Saturday.

By this time Roger was in such pain that he'd been put on Entinox, but was still screaming with pain, despite this. He was taken into the x-ray dept. with me following on, wheeling his cylinder of entinox.

The radiographer was very thorough and took several shots of Roger's upper arms and of his chest. He interpreted these x-rays as normal. Nothing broken..........nothing dislocated...........therefore normal.
Roger was taken back to his cubicle in A & E, still shouting in agony.

THEN THE NIGHTMARE STEPPED UP A NOTCH OR TWO.........OR THREE!!!
Enter.... the doctor, who said "I've studied the X-rays, everything's normal, you can get dressed and go home now." I said "He can't move his arms, he is screaming in agony. How can I take him home?" She replied "It must be muscular, once he starts moving it will ease. Be getting him dressed! I'll bring him a cup of tea." I said "How's he going to drink a cup of tea? He can't even hold the cup." She said "You must start moving him very slowly." By this time Roger was pleading for help. His face was pale grayish and sweaty. I said to her "PLEASE! I don't mean to doubt you, but Roger has a high threshold for pain, and look at him! I won't be able even to sit him up without Entinox or Oramorph or somesuch!" NB. The Entinox had run out by this time. Unbelieveably she said, and I quote "No! we can't give him those, as you won't have access to those drugs when you get home, so there's no point in starting them now."

A ward assistant started to try to gently move Roger, but the doctor said "No! leave him! let "the lady" do that!" I'm Roger's wife of 42 years standing, and she calls me "The lady."

Roger's pain was so great that I could neither move him, nor was I about to try, and when the doctor came back I told her. She said this: " The X-Rays are normal........nothing broken......no dislocations..........so what would you have us do?" I said "Please help him!" She left the cubicle, returned five mins. later, and said "There's a specialist 'bone doctor' coming down from Orphopaedics to see you..........so that will be a third opinion." She then left us alone in the cubicle. Ten minutes passed, and a 2nd year doctor (who was Greek) from Orphopaedics appeared. He spoke very good English. He examined Roger very gently and thoroughly. He was diligent, kind and instantly trustworthy. He said to Roger "I've studied the x-rays, and they appear to be normal, but I can see you are in a lot of pain. I want my boss to look at them (he will be here at 7.00am ) to see if there's anything I'm missing." He had been told that we were being sent home, so he told us that he would organise some more Entinox, so as to enable Roger to dress. He asked us for our telephone number in case his boss wanted us to come back. I know this doctor went off to ask for some Entinox, but after he left, his request was ignored, and we were ignored and left alone.

It felt like we were taking part in one of those 'How Not To' training films.

Suddenly a porter appeared saying he had instructions to move us out. Without further ado he wheeled Roger out and up the corridor. I hastily gathered our bits and ran to catch up with him. We were put in an assessment room. The atmosphere seemed very frosty, except for Gertrude, a ward assistant, who was kind to us. There was another ward assistant there. She told us we had been 'breached.' I asked what that meant. I said "Does it mean we've had our 15mins. of fame, because that's how it feels?" She said "Leave it at that!"

Roger was then told by a ward assistant to "Use his hands to shuffle across" from the trolley he was on, to the bed. He said "Why won't you listen to me? I can't move my arms!" He was screaming and begging them not to hurt him, when they man-handled him across to the bed I think he nearly blacked out.

Then...... in walked the Greek doctor, with his boss from Orphopaedics. His boss examined Roger, told him he had studied his X-Rays, and was as sure as he could be that Roger was presenting with a most unusual postereal dislocation of the ball and socket joints of both arms. He said that it does not easily show up on X-Ray, and explained it's caused by the muscles at the front of the shoulders pulling against the muscles at the back of the shoulders, and in doing so, displacing the ball and socket joints. He said Roger would be taken to theatre, put out for 15minutes or so, whilst they manipulated the sockets back in place. This is indeed what happened, and Roger was instantly relieved and pain free.

Thank God for the Orphopaedic doctors, for believing that despite what Roger's X-Rays appeared to show, he was not malingering. A Huge Thankyou to them for going that extra mile for him.

We've always known that the Royal Berkshire hospital has scattered pockets of excellence, and it seems we've discovered another pocket.