Where Is The Doctor?

Back at the ward, I grabbed the oxygen tube (called nasal prong, I think - the one without the mask). No difference. I buzzed the nurse and was told they would page for my doctor. Meanwhile, I tried ever so hard to take in oxygen, but found that I could not breathe in. It was like my lungs froze.

I tried to calm myself down. Okay.. okay.. don't panic.. easy.. relax.. relax... try again - didn't work! In between, I kept buzzing for the nurses at 15 or 20 minutes interval, and they kept assuring me that my doc had been paged and should be coming. Sometimes, they would 'measure my oxygen' by using a fingertip pulse oximeter - where they clipped the 'probe' onto the finger, and they kept saying my oxygen level is okay.

In the meantime, a group of doctors passed by my room. A number of doctors in that group had attended to me at one time or another since I was admitted. A short while later, they went back past my room again. I told nurse M, who was nearby, to quickly get one of the doctors for me. She just wheeled round on her heels and stare at the group as they disappeared from view, and turned back to look blankly at me again. She did not go after them, neither did she called out to them. I was aghast.

They kept telling me my doc had been paged and would be coming, but after more than an hour, there was still no sign of the doc. I was sick, I can't breathe and was breaking out in cold sweat. So many doctors had seen me and I needed a doc then, only one, any one would do, so where is the doc?

Finally, more than an hour later, Dr A, (one of those in the earlier group), came back and stopped at the nurses' station. I buzzed for a nurse again, and told her I could not breathe, she brought the fingertip pulse oximeter again. I told her I didn't want that. I was desperate, I was mad, my patience was gone. I wanted a doc, he was at the nurses' station, call him for me. Probably alarmed by my behaviour, she went, fortunately, because I was all ready to muster whatever strength I could to holler across the room for the doc. Sorry, but desperate situations call for desperate measures and I could not afford to be nice anymore.

By the time Dr A came to me, my arms were shaking. I had been holding onto the side rails for support. I told him, "I can't breathe; I am breaking out in cold sweat; I can't hold on any longer; Do something". And I passed out.