Tuesday was ‘Big Wait Day’.  We needed to be allocated a single bed at “The ‘A’ Team Headquarters”.

There were simply no beds available.

That morning, I lay in bed and reminisced on the three days of my first hospital visit in 25 years.

The Admissions Process was a shocker…

Admittedly, the admissions clerk was first-language Afrikaans.   Also … it was midday on a Saturday.  Was this the ‘B’ Team?

What did she manage to do?   She spelt my name wrong, our estate’s name wrong and list my husband of 40 years – as my brother.

This last mistake…. followed us to the next hospital… and caused huge problems… as my husband is the primary member of our Medical Aid Membership.

“Why can’t we fill in our own forms on a laptop at Admissions?”, I wondered.

The Radiography Department was a centre of excellence. By the time I had left, I had undergone an Ultrasound, a CT Scan and an MRI.   My only grumble… The CT Scan operator installed – and left the drip needle – in my inner right elbow – for the convenience of his fellow nursing staff.

My problem?  You can’t type Whatsapps on your phone with a drip in your inner right elbow. Everytime you bend your elbow… the drip machine sends off a warning beep to indicate the medications coming down from the drips have been impeded.  The beeping noise was a nightmare all Saturday night whilst I worked out how to mute the noise or sleep in the right place.

This was eventually sorted out… and I asked for all driplines – in future – to be placed on my left arm or left hand. Phew!  That was a big learning curve.

The hours rolled by.  No call to indicate I had a bed.

Ashley did not take the blood thinner debacle lightly and marched around the hospital in her European executive attire complaining to all that would listen.  I felt a bit sorry for the hospital staff.  Ashley was on a mission.

Hospital insiders admitted that giving patients the wrong medication was a very common mistake in all South African hospitals. Which is why doctors tried so hard to educate their own patients.

I realised that being a relaxed vegetable in a South African hospital is not wise. Thank heavens that my family woke me up on Sunday afternoon.

The surgeon’s team led by another ‘Jane’ worked the phones all Tuesday afternoon.

By 15h00, there was a plan, but no bed.

The Ambulance had been found and I would transported by ambulance between the two hospitals.

“Excuse me !?” I gasped. “That is the most outrageous misuse of resources I have ever heard of!” Why can’t I just go in my daughter’s car which is parked outside? Everyone was a little shocked. “We will ask?” I was told.

At 16h02 – a bed – was located.

I packed up my gear… made it to my daughters car….

I was on my way to the precious bed.   How lucky was I?