I was so relieved to come out of hospital. I had been in there for 9 nights and that’s a long time. When the doctors said I could go home I was packed up and ready to go within 5 minutes and waiting (in)patiently on a discharge letter and for my Mum to arrive from 10minutes down the road. We had planned for Mum to pick me up so that I was able to see her before I started shielding with my partner.
I packed up my giant rugby kit bag, grabbed my electricals and everything else and hotfooted it out of Guist Ward as soon as the discharge letter was in my hand, I figured I could meet my Mum somewhere near outpatients East and get home just that little bit quicker.
It then felt weirdly reminiscent of the Exeat weekends when I would come home from boarding school for the weekend on a Friday, as I walked towards the Exit carrying far too much stuff I was giddy with excitement but also anxious about what was to come.
I met my Mum and she (as she did when I was a year 7 home from school) helped me carry my bags to the car and we were off, 10 minutes or so and I would be home. Something that I had been simply pining about for days.
We pulled into my street a few short minutes later and my partner, Jordan, came out of the house to greet me. I was like a little kid running to see Santa as I ran up and gave him a massive hug. I honestly at this point felt like crying I was so relieved to be home. Jordan gathered all of my stuff out of my Mums car and after a quick hug for Mum, we went on inside.
As we chucked my stuff by the front door, I got to the next part of coming home that I was looking forward to. Our Cocker Spaniel Puppy Archie came running out of the living room to welcome me back into the fold. Welcome home indeed.
I was tremendously relieved to be home, I cannot express this enough. I was back with the people that I love and not alone in a hospital bed however with this also came some trepidation. I spent so many days in a lot of pain before I was admitted, what if this happened again? I no longer had a handy bell that I could ring and have oral morphine bought to me in bed, I no longer had medical professionals around me all the time in case of emergency, what if it all went wrong?
As I snuggled up on the sofa with Jordan while watching the most recent SAS: Who Dares Wins, I took a deep sigh of relief. As the time came to go to bed I was getting increasingly anxious. I was always so much worse at night, and there was still blood most of the time that I went to the toilet, what if it all went wrong and I ended up back in the hospital?
I took some paracetamol as we went to bed but struggled to fall asleep. I had become accustomed to falling asleep with a film playing in the background but eventually I managed. The first night was by no means perfect. I woke up at 1am with a toilet attack and had to take some more paracetamol and then was woken again at around 5am with a toilet attack, took some more paracetamol but couldn’t get back to sleep. I was panicking that this was a major remission and I was about to be heading back to the hospital. I tried my hardest to stay calm and Jordan reminded me that I still needed to go and get my steroids from the hospital in the morning, lets just stay calm.
It was at this point in the morning that I realised that I would be OK, I had people around me that truly cared and listened to me (even at 1am when I was on the toilet). I just had to stay calm and make it to 10:00am when I would get my medication from the hospital…