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I was in such a bad state, feet, legs, testicles and lower abdomen swollen, short of breath and fatiqued, Mr. Clarke had to pick me up from the house and drive me to Spanish Town. From there Bam came, picked me up and we went straight to Dr. McCalla. Dr. McCalla quickly determined I was suffering from congestive heart failure, with hypertension and a possible urinary tract infection, which seemed to be false for no one - after a few tests - bothered themselves with that at any of the hospitals. After listening to my history from June 28, 2007 and even before and plus my current financial state, she decided it was time I get back in touch with my family or "the cousins" as she called it. It turned out that I could indeed afford the initial expense which she didn't think would come to more than $15000. It eventually came to about 12 or so, with examinations, medication and hospital bills - and I guess my transfer to KPH which I didn'T want, turned out to be a blessing in that area after all. Dr. McCalla eventually called Wayne and we went to UC [University Hospital]. I was still having trouble breathing and walking very slow. The admitting nurse - Nurse Ximines - took one look at the diagnosis and at me and half-jokingly said I really looked congestive. She wheelchaired me around to the Emergency Ward and went out of her way to find me a bed and a makeshift curtained spot after the nurse on duty said none was available and I would have to sit in the wheelchair until I could get on a ward - which even from then they were saying might not be possible - though Nurse Ximines seemed hopeful. At UC every doc - and there were about three who checked on me - would put their stethoscopes to my chext and back. At KPH where I spent days and was actually on a ward I have no memory of any doctor doing that, but my memory could be failing me. At UC I was given a nitroglycerine tablet to put under my tongue, followed by a slow-acting water tablet - I would get the swifter-acting Lasix just before my transfer to KPH - oxygen from beginning to end, the usual blood pressure tests, chest x-rays, and had parts of my chest shaved by Nurse Campbell for an ecg. At KPH I had no x-ray, ecg, oxygen - except the natural downtown air - but got the usual meds and constant blood-pressure tests - sometimes 7-8 at one time - by the student nurses who didn't trust their original readings and kept doing it over and over. This stopped after a while. Wayne stayed with me except to go get some patties from the afternoon until the next morning although sometimes he hardly had anywhere to sit. Up at UC I was pushed everywhere and not allowed to walk at anytime. It was the best I had felt in 8 months. The right-sided numbness went away along with the burning sensations that usually accompanied it. I had made arrangements to stay with Mr. Des if I couldn't get on a ward but cancelled near midnight when Dr.Edwards gave us the distinct impression that I would be getting on a ward. The final doc though - whose name I never got - a pretty, young lady maybe of east indian stock, eventually informed me that there were no beds upstairs and I would have to be transferred to KPH. Even though I dosed off a few times, when she came in the wee hours of the morning I was definitely suffereing from sleep-deprivation for I remember our conversations only in part and as if I was under the effect of some mind-weakening drug or liquor but it was none of those only lack of sleep. I have vague memories of her leaning over into the bed, even actually sitting in the bed with me - but that may be false...maybe some wishful-thinking fantasy. She had a long casual conversation with me, which, when I overheard my file being read at KPH, I realized was really interviews re my medical history and health practices [including my former cigarette-smoking days tenyears ago, my up-until-recently drinking, the 8 months old affliction of numbness, the possible 5 or so years that I knew I was hypertensive]. We even discussed my financial state re me being able to pay for a private hospital. I begged her not to transfer me downtown but she insisted she had no choice. Minutes after Nurse Campbell came and told me I should get dressed for she would be accompanying me to KPH in the ambulance. I must confess that I had already - even in my sickness - been a little attracted to Nurse Campbell and found myself admiring her, but I though I felt my blood pressure going up and my shortness of breath returning as I sat in the ambulance thinking about her as I waited for her to join us and I - for my health's sake - I quickly had to end my fantasizing. At KPH Nurse Campbell wheeled me in herself and did all the paperwork re my re-admittance, then she left. It was 6am and I dosed off a few times in the waiting area sometimes to awake with strange characters around me. One of them never said a word to the nurse/doc who was on duty but who seemed used to these characters and had his wits about him. When the silent character wouldn't answer re coke? ganja? the doc made him lift his shirt so he could check his heartbeat. I don't know if that was the real reason for his request though as even I was relieved to see that he had no gun stuck in his waist. The standard response in the end to all the people who strolled in was to come back to the clinic at 9am. I was not long after wheelchaired to Ward 1a having to stop partway to use the bathroom - the Lasix kicking in and me not knowing whether I would have access readily to a bathroom afterward. It would be last time I would be pushed anywhere during my stay at KPH. In Ward 1a the attendant made me sit on a bench and I would sit there for over 8 hours before I would get a bed on the ward.

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