My first night in hospital is ok, a private room with an en-suite isn’t so bad although I feel rough I’ll be able to get through this no probs.
Shortly after breakfast of toast the doctor visited me and breaks the news that my Covid test is positive and I have pneumonia to boot, I have to be moved to the intensive care unit along with other Covid patients in the hospital, it takes them until 10pm at night to be ready to move me and slowly wheeled down the new but rickety looking ramp system to the ground floor icu unit. The man carrying the oxygen isn’t quite in sync with the man pushing the wheelchair and it turns into a slight comedy act as they go in different directions and speeds down the ramps with a plastic tube connecting me between them.
ICU isn’t a great place, for obvious reasons, its very noisy and rather chaotic and is non stop until after midnight and kick starts again around 6 am, the nurses and doctors are however friendly and efficient and do everything to make me feel as comfortable as they can.
I try not to let my mind wander into ‘what if’s’ or think about dying in a Nepal ICU unit thousands of miles from home on my own, my iPhone keeps the life line I need to my wife and kids and they send me messages of support and encouragement on a regular basis.
I just need to get through this day by day...