Welcome to my Heart Blog.

One Persons's journey to a Coronary Artery Bypass Graft (CABG) and hopefully beyond.

I Began this diary while I was sitting in hospital recovering from a quadruple coronary artery bypass graft (CABG). The aim was to track my progress and think a bit more about the National Health Service acute services, what we should appreciate about it and where we might do better.

I stopped writing when there was, frankly, not much else to record. However in June I signed up for a half marathon and thought I would re-open the blog as a training diary. It may even include a few health and exercise tips along the way.

I am neither a health-care professional nor a sports and fitness guru. What I write is no more expert than some of the things you might here from that bloke in the pub, so I take no responsibility for how you might use my ramblings. Be warned!

If you want to you can read the "back story", from hospital to rehab in earlier blog posts. One thing I have learned is that most people are not interested in reading my ramblings so, for those who do, I promise in future to keep them short.

Tuesday, 30 June 2015

Thursday 18th June. The angiogram does not happen.

Slept better on the CCU observation  section.  The patients are too ill to cause a fuss.  But the alarms, ringing in the nurses station, including the routine call button, are extremely loud.  Could they not be quieter for the patients' sake?  They seems to be designed to call staff from half a mile away, but surely In an intensive care unit at least one person on the ward should be stationed at the main desk, which has a slave monitor duplicating the data tracked at each bedside.

Well I am not going to Bart's today.  I am not on the list.  How disappointing, especially after what I as told the previous day.  But I am assured that I am on the list for tomorrow. 

The food in here is not bad and the staff are mostly very nice.  I strike up a few conversations with the cleaner, who was once an economist working for a Bulgarian factory making Kalashnikovs. He bemoans the fact that his three children are all settled, with families, in different EU countries and he wishes that they could all be together back home.  But he is also an economic migrant and from a management Job in industry to hospital cleaner is a long way (it is likely that in communist times his title of economist actually meant planner, responsible for preparing plans that met the state's objectives.  If I a right, professional knowledge may be weak on markets and competition). 

The other chatty person is one of the student nurses, also from Eastern Europe.  She is clearly intelligent and studies hard though she wears not very complimentary about the academic part of her training programme, which is essentially self-study.  I think they have 5 hours a week contact time.  Still, she gets lots of on-the-job training because she asks for it and is prepared to ten responsibility.  She will get on.

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