I think I explained the other day that my right leg is now under full compression as they are happy that the DVT won't cause problems and, yes, I know I still have to write about the mysterious DVT.
Anyway, last Monday the leg ulcer clinic put full compression dressings on for the first time and wrote up the new revised care regime and booked an appointment for some ten days ahead. As pressure dressings are not to be left on for more than a week without being changed yesterday, Monday, was the day when the visiting district nurse was to do just that.
She arrived with plenty of time to do it but seemed reluctant for some reason. I suspect they are just so rushed they would rather not do a lengthy job like that if they can argue their way out of it. However the dressing was beginning to "tug" a bit at the sores and I was getting a bit of discomfort as a result so I sort of insisted. They took off the old dressing and then found that the magic book of notes kept here was out of date and that I didn't have either the cream or all the dressings that were needed
Why? They and the ulcer clinic are based in the same building some 20 yards apart yet they don't communicate. The nurse was trying to give me a verbal list of what she needed so I could pass it on to the ulcer clinic staff when I go on Thursday. I refused.
The idea that the patient should be passing on such messages between clinical professionals full of abreviations and medical terms sound damned dangerous to me.
In the end I had to settle for half-compression because that was all they could do and I had a damned sore leg without getting the proper treatment.
I was not a happy bunny as you can imagine and now the dressing seems to be slipping or, at least, isn't gripping as well as it should because it hurts as I walk about.
What a farce!
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