Hazelford Lock Moorings

Not much sleep to be had on Oleanna last night. I got about an hours worth before Mick woke me, he’d had none. He had chest pains.

999 was dialled, ambulance requested, our what3words location given to them, nearest road access, that we were on a narrowboat, they chatted to Mick about his symptoms, I chatted again to them. There would be a two hour wait for the ambulance, could we make it to hospital ourselves? No car, not sure we’d be able to get Mick off the boat without suitable assistance, we’d be happy (as much as you can be in these situations) to wait. We were only to call back if his symptoms worsened. I told them about the gate across the weir bridge that I’d need to unlock for them, this was added to the notes for the ambulance crew.

Could we actually move the boat for better access? The mooring by the pub in Fiskerton had been empty when I’d walked there yesterday, not guaranteed to still be empty now, anyhow we’d already given our location. The well deck needed sorting, our chairs had been popped in there after the barbeque last night, stuff that had been in the shower whilst on tidal waters had been put back. I turned the outside light on to help them spot us and for me to see, I rolled the covers up fully out of the way, making the best access I could.

Inside phones were put on charge. The floor on either side of the bed cleared for people to stand. I got dressed, my wallet put in my bumbag, our big strong torch got ready, all whilst Mick rested. The two hours seemed to go quite quickly and before it had elapsed my phone rang, the crew were at the gate.

Tilly was put in the main cabin, both bathroom doors closed, a double barrier to stop any possibility of escape. Don’t rush, be careful, don’t drop the key of power. The crew were pulling a stretcher out from the ambulance, I guided them with our big torch through the gate over the bridge, they’d not get the stretcher much further. It was left by the bottom gates of the lock, the walkway wide, but not wide enough. Mind the drop, these are big steps, we got to the boat and the two of them stepped down inside, leaving me sat on the bank.

An ECG, an aspirin, a spray under his tongue to open his arteries up and increase his oxygen levels. Conversations inside could only be partly heard. They wanted him to go to hospital, a cardiac episode suspected, he needed a blood test. Could he manage to get off the boat, climb up the big steps? Would I be going with them too? Slowly Mick was helped off the boat, back up from the fire brigade wasn’t needed, they’d already been out to help on another shout this evening.

I picked up the essentials, locked the boat, giving Tilly back access to the bathroom saying I’d be back sometime, ‘look after the boat Tilly’. Mick managed the walk to the ambulance where the ecg wires were hooked up again, blood pressure taken, then we were on our way. No flashing lights or sirens, just very bumpy roads for most of the way to Kings Mill Hospital in Mansfield. The paramedic chatted away about various things, occasionally popping in a medical question, all the time keeping an eye on the patient.

Mick was taken through the doors into the Majors part of the Emergency Department and I was left sitting in a corridor with only our big torch for company. A while later the ambulance crew re-emerged with their stretcher, wished us well and headed off, not much of their shift left so they’d most probably return to base in Newark now. I thanked them, such reassuring people.

Mick had had a blood test and another ECG, once he was settled I was allowed to join him in a big room with about seven cubicles. Each cubicle had two people in them, curtains and screens positioned in a way to try to give some privacy, but none was really to be had. We waited. I stood. We chatted a bit. I stood. We watched the staff. We waited.

More patients arrived on trolleys, at least fifteen people. There were the two old chaps, both able to sleep through everything going on around them, both with their heads tilted to the right and snoring, they could have been twins. There was the lady with her brother, her wedding ring needed to come off, but try as they might her 90 year old joints had grown too big, the ring needed to be cut off. The only words she said in all the hours we were next to her was ‘you’re filthy’ to an Asian nurse, the nurse dealt with it pretty well, saying she was very clean and was here to help her.

There was another lady, her shoulder extremely painful, she was scared. Her son smiled so lovingly into her eyes. ‘Oh Dear Gladys’ ‘Oh Gladys’ the poor lady said, she was given some pain killers and told she’d be having an x-ray once the pain had eased. There was a chap stood by his mum’s trolley, he’d been stood there for hours waiting for them to find a bed for her. He was brought a chair, he’d rather stand. I decided to make use of the chair, our torch had a rest on Micks trolley.

We waited, blood tests take about two hours to come back, surely Mick’s would be back by now? More trolleys arrived, only a few patients were sent home. The shift changed at 7am, maybe more would start to happen as the hospital woke up with more staff on hand. Cups of tea! Cereal if Mick wanted it. He didn’t.

Around about 10am, a nurse practitioner arrived. She pushed the trolleys either side of Mick away and pulled the curtain round. His blood test was back, but they like to have a second one for comparison. They wanted to do a chest x-ray. Lots of questions. She listened to his heart, his back, his belly, another ECG. The blood test would take about an hour and a half this time.

We talked about what to do if Mick was to stay in hospital. Our mooring not ideal for hospital visits. Oleanna would need to be moved. Could we ask to double up with NB Avalon Two when they came past, they are now on a mission to return to their home mooring? They’d be long gone by now. I suggested Bridget and Storm, Lizzie, Paul before many other names came to mind. But we needed to know what was going to happen first. Mick’s chest pain had dulled after he’d had medication from the paramedics, it was now returning and was stronger when he moved.

I headed off to try to find some breakfast. A walk outside, just where is Mansfield? Just where was the Emergency room again? Mick soon had a chest x-ray and was brought back into the room, now a total of twenty people. They may not have many cubicles, but they do have plenty of trolleys!

Next an ultra sound, easier to walk there than take his trolley. A second opinion. Then the lovely nurse practitioner returned with the verdict. Nothing can be 100%, but it was believed that Mick had strained some muscles which had given him similar symptoms to a heart attack. He was to take it easy, listen to his body, take paracetamol, if the symptoms worsened then he should head straight back to A&E.

So, with great relief we left the Majors section of A&E. The standing man was still standing. The 104 year old lady had new batteries in her hearing aids which was helping a great deal. The man kept smiling that loving smile to his Mum, hopefully her shoulder pain would start to ease soon. We’d never now find out who Gladys was.

A taxi back to Oleanna, I followed us on a map, I now knew where Mansfield was! Around 2pm we were back walking over the bridge by the weir, taking our time to climb down the steps to the boat. Everyone wanted some food including Tilly.

A quiet afternoon, Mick left snoozing on the sofa, Tilly exploring the brambles, I had a walk along the river bank. The only place we’d be going today would be to bed, there’s a nights sleep to be caught up on.

0 locks, 0 miles, 8 brisk minutes before 5am, 1 torch, 3 enquiries about the torch, 2 blood tests, 4 ECGs, 1 x-ray, 1 ultrasound, 0 heart attack, 1 strain, £41 taxi fare, 12 hours to be back home and on the mend, 2 very grateful boaters, 1 wonderful NHS.