Under This Care, You Won’t Live To Be 26, Let Alone 102

, , , , , , | Healthy | June 5, 2019

After being rushed to hospital via ambulance, I was put in a bed on the ward around two in the morning.

Each bay had four beds in it, and each bed was labelled one through four. The patients’ names were above the beds, and the charts were located at the bottom of the beds.

I hadn’t been asleep for long when I was suddenly thrown upright by someone fiddling with my bed and adjusting the top so I was sitting. Another nurse grabbed my arm before I had fully woken up, so there was one on each side. One was taking my blood pressure and the other was about to insert a needle into my cannula.

Neither had said a word to me.

Tired, cranky, and having only just gotten to sleep after being transferred up from A&E, I asked them what they were doing.

“Just giving you your medicine, Catherine,” one of the nurses replied.

My name is not Catherine.

I asked them to check my chart and to get the needles away from me. They did, grumbling as if I was being dramatic, only to both go wide-eyed. I was in bed two and apparently, they needed the woman in bed one.

I thought nothing of it. I was only happy that they hadn’t injected me with a random drug as I was pregnant, and who knows what could have happened.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I found out that Catherine in the bed across from me was 102 years old and suffering from dementia.

I was twenty-five and heavily pregnant at the time.

I don’t know how they managed to mix us up, but it did not give me much confidence in the nurses during that hospital stay.

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