Share review of Royal Edinburgh Hospital

Royal Edinburgh Hospital 2020-04-01 Person 1 5 0

I was admitted to what was first supposed to be meadows ward, only to be told then I'd have to go to hermitage. When I arrived there they told me they'd have to inspect my belongings and left me sat in the dining area while I was in physical pain, denied any medication. I was agitated and had to wait hours before even getting assigned a room. The whole experience was hell. None of the nurses knew what else I had up with me never mind my mental health. The reason I was there because my physical pain had got too much and I had no life to live on the outside world anymore. When I asked for pain relief they'd say we'll get your paracetamol soon! I was on morphine! I never said that out loud because eof the stigma and I didn't want other patients needing to know what was up with me. By the end of the first week the psychiatrist had doubled my morphine so I could even walk around and get outside for air. Even then I'd have to time my trip out to get back in time for painkillers. I didn't get help to go to any other hospital appointments I'd been waiting for for years, so I was sent on my own without pain relief. When I did come back I needed first aid but I collapsed in a chair and everyone ignored the fact my feet were bleeding. I'm on blood thinners so any bleeding doesn't stop and I'm effectively a haemophiliac. None of which was taken into consideration. I was made to feel bullied by the staff, nothing I wanted to know was explained to me. At the time they were changing my psychiatric drugs and I went through a horrible of withdrawal and lack of sleep. The nurses wouldn't help me wash, or make sure anything in my room was suitable for my needs despite occupational therapy assessments. The treatment altogether was disgusting, I fell in the shower and noone came to help. I was told if I was in pain I could just stay in my room, I didn't have to go out. But how on earth else was my mood going to get any better? That's what I'd been living with for years in my house, totally isolated! I didn't need that then in a place where I was supposed to get help to recover. There weren't any prescribed activities, patients could choose to do what they wanted in the various buildings so I made sure I made use of all of it. In the end it was the patients who uplifted me, all of us were stuck. We all hated the restrictions, the alarms, the lack of medication arriving on time, or the nurses completely forgetting them at all. Longer term patients received better care and understanding than me who was completely new to this. I had the goal of wanting out and never returning again, but to try and make a plan to do that was impossible especially when all my family cut me off during the time when my medication was changing. Noone took any responsibility to make sure anyone was getting the help we needed. The best staff were the housekeeper. The patients were the ones who helped me to even get into the bath that was only assigned to those who couldn't shower. When I fell I needed an ice pack, and what I was given was a wet paper towel for sprains and bruises. The fact that physically and mentally I wasn't taken care of sits with me to this day. Like ptsd I'll never recover from that experience. All the help I needed I chased myself, I got myself into a position where I could move on in real life. Noone else helped me to do that.