Sunday 29 November 2020

Adventist Hospital - Room 505B

Covid19 Test

  • SARS-CoV-2 PCR - 1,200 

Doctor Charges

  • Anaesthetist Fee - 35,000
  • Surgeon Fee - 150,000
  • Hospital inpatient care - 5,600
  • Total: 190,600
Hospital Charges 
  • ACT Machine - 390
  • Anaesthetic Machine (additional 30 minutes) x2 - 2,652
  • BIS Machine+Sensor - 1,950
  • CC-Radiofrequency Abalation-RFA - 29,427
  • CCIC GA Pack (for 2 hours) - 8,190
  • CCIC IC Cannnulation pack - 520
  • CCIC IV Pack - 910
  • J&J CSR Consumables - 1,695
  • DINAMAP - 248
  • Echo(TEE, No report) - 1,300
  • EP/RFA Consumer Pac - 4,550
  • I-STAT - 468
  • I STAT Cartiage - 143
  • Infusion Pump/ Feeding Pump - 428
  • IV/Syringe Pump x2 - 780
  • Oximeter Reading per time x3 - 534
  • Oxygen (3 LPM/HR) x3 - 174
  • Oxygen Setup - 210
  • Patient Meal / Breakfast - 306
  • Patient Meal / Dinner - 48
  • Pharmacy - 4,390
  • Portable O2 Per time use - 300
  • Prolonged Exam Time per 15 mins x2 - 2,596
  • Room Charge / U500 - 2,000
  • Sheath Terumo F5/6/7/8 x3 - 984
  • Total: 198,993
All in: 381,561 HKD - (~49K USD) Is that fair value?

Here's a photo of the entrance point:



Saturday 28 November 2020

The anaesthetic wears off

11 pm. Beep beep. I hear the beeping of the blood pressure monitor and groggily snap out of the stupor. My mouth is so dry, it is possibly the driest place on Earth right now, my throat is barren, I try to swallow and feel my tongue scrapping against the roof of my mouth. So thirsty. I scan the dimly-lit room, there's no water nearby. Why am I so dehydrated? One of the requirements is not to drink or eat anything leading up to the ablation. Water is allowed, but it is encouraged to be kept to a minimum. That plus the fact they were pumping pressurised oxygen into my body while I was under General anaesthesia. So groggy, so thirsty.

I had been sleeping with my mask on. I remove the mask and fumble for the buzzer and call for the nurse. I have the IV still hanging out of my left hand, that's annoying. Wrapped around right arm is a blood pressure monitor. Beep beep. The crease of my right groin is bandaged, there's some tenderness. Slowly the senses come back to me, body feels so fragile, and then I notice the immense tightness around my heart and a distinct weight on my chest.  

The nurse comes in, "How are you feeling? Are you hungry?" I ask if it's possible to stop the beeping sound and if I can have some water. I'm told that I have to remain laying down for 8 hours, to make sure the wound heals. He shows me the bed pan in case I need to use the toilet then hands me some water and gives me some pain killers. Water. Finally, liquid salvation. Later he comes back with a sandwich, checks my blood pressure and turns off the machine. 

It's a little past midnight, I take a couple of bites of the cold vegetarian ham and cheese sandwich. I'm not usually somebody who is sensitive to loneliness but there's something about being in a dimly lit hospital ward, eating a cold sandwich on a Friday night that tugs are the heart strings. I pop a Panadol and manage to drift back into sleep. Intermittent sleep.


The next morning, the nurse comes in at 9 am, and advises that I am good to walk around. I order breakfast, which is the one thing I have been looking forward to the entire time at Adventist. Dr Fung visits the room at 10:30 am, he checks the wound and explains that the procedure was not a success. Turns out the source of the PVCs is located around the papillary muscle, which is apparently rare in itself. The procedure was done with x-ray and he was not able to accurately ablate the muscle. There is mention of needing specialised equipment and a slightly different procedure, this news is both disappointing and frustrating, and the information takes a while to process. I can't wait to get out of this hospital.

Friday 27 November 2020

My first in-patient experience

All locations have a certain energy, or vibe. There's the energy of the family home back in Earlwood. There's the energy of my apartment in Hong Kong. There's the office energy, which differs on a Monday compared to a Friday. Hospitals also have an energy, for me it's an emptiness intertwined with expectation and anxiousness. 

It's 1:00 pm, I've just returned from Clearwater Bay, I have a long shower and pack my overnight bag. Unsure of what to bring I pack a warm change of clothes, my kindle, my laptop and the preauthorisation form provided by my insurance company. At 1:30 I leave my apartment and make my way over to Adventist Hospital. It's a bright, warm fall day, unusually warm for this time of the year as I bag some last minute Vitamin D while I wait for the 23. 

I get to Adventist Hospital at 2:00 pm and proceed with the in-patient check in. I'm shown the semi-private room (505B) in which I will be staying overnight, it's basic, it reminds me of a 3-star business hotel except with a decked-out bed and what looks to be fairly dated medical apparatus above the bedrest. I wonder if I'll be sharing the room with somebody. I'm greeted by a Customer Service officer, Kristy introduces herself, gives me a wrist band and runs me through the details of my stay. I'm currently scheduled to go in at 4:45 pm, but that's dependent on the procedure in the operating theatre before me.  It's like being at a resort, except there's no warm towel or lemon grass tea to welcome me. 


Over the next couple of hours, various people stop by room 505 to introduce themselves to me. 

My Anaesthesiologist, Dr Chu comes in and explains to me in broken English what he will be doing. "I'll be p-p-putting you under local anaesthetic for the G-G-GPS mapping, and then will bring you under general for the actual procedure. You won't feel a thing, but you might feel t-t-tired the next day. Do you have any questions?". Straight forward enough. 

Nurse Wing comes in, she's Australian and after some small chat tells me that because the incision point will be on the right fermoral artery next to my groin she'll need to groom the area. ie. Shave my balls. Not known for my wild body hair, this seems to be more of a precautionary step as they'll be applying a compression bandage post-procedure and don't want any hair to be caught up when they eventually tear the bandage off. I've never had a Brazilian and this won't be my first. 


At 4:50 pm a nurse comes in, I'm told to lie on the bed as I'm shuttled off into the theatre. It's a little weird, as I could easily walk down, but they insist I lie on the bed as the push me through the hospital corridors. Along the way various medical staff check my identity: "What's your name and date of birth?" and ask me to explain the procedure that I will be undergoing (I can see why it's important to check these key points).

At 5:00 pm I'm pushed into the theatre room, shifted to the operating bed as an IV is inserted into left hand. The assisting staff all look so young, like graduates, they attach EKGs and various nodes to my body as the large displays bursts to life with realtime information. I can see my heart rate, my blood pressure as well as other bodily readings. Dr Fung, the Cardiologist and Dr Chu, the Anaesthesiologist both come in and run over the procedure once last time: Electrophysiology study, 3D Mapping and RFA to address symptomatic premature ventricular complexes. 

My glasses are removed, a barrier is erected to block my view from the surgeon as they proceed to slowly inject me full of painkillers, a wave of tiredness hits me. I touch my right and left forefinger against my thumb. "Derek, we're starting the GPS mapping". I can feel them wiping topical anaesthetic around my right groin, I feel a pinch and then I feel tubing being inserted. Around 45 minutes later, drifting in and out of sleep, Dr Fung tells me that they have identified the area of the PVCs and will be putting me under general and that I can go to sleep. I close my eyes and darkness comes.

At 7:40pm , I hear "Derek, how are you feeling? We're all done", I briefly open my eyes, bright theatre lights, my body is jostled about (most likely being shifted back onto the trolley) before I fall back into darkness.

Currently reading: "The Art of Living"

Degree collection

Personal time off from work. I love midweek days off, there's a sense of freedom and individualism, almost akin to being awake late in the evening knowing that you are not apart of the majority. My day starts with morning yoga, followed by one last visit to the HKUST campus to fetch my degree.

I hand them my HKID, they hand back an envelope with my degree and my transcript. There's no handshake, no congratulations, no break in stride in administrative workflow. So comes an end to my post graduate adventure. I spent the last final moments strolling around campus before making my way back to Hong Kong Island to address the other thing that I started in August 2017, my heart.







 

Thursday 26 November 2020

Covid test

Preparation for this week's procedure. My first Covid19 test, not the invasive one where they tickle your tonsils or attempt to clear the sinuses but the test where you spit into a cup (apparently this isn't as accurate?). Filling up a cup with saliva from the depths of your throat is actually quite challenging, especially if there's only saliva generating the bulk of the sample. Couple of loud hocks and we're done.



Cost: 1200 HKD (200 AUD)
Update: I'm Covid Negative

Sunday 22 November 2020

A "Virtual" Graduation

It's been almost an entire year since my last exam. Without labouring the point, the year has been nothing short of pedestrian and despite completing all the coursework I don't feel like I've actually graduated. Thankfully, there have been no nightmares of turning up to an exam unprepared. There has been a slight sense of lost knowledge, with the desire to apply what I studied and learnt to the real world. That in itself forms part of the larger question about what my next steps are.

Regardless, there are essentially two outstanding components that remain which lends to the fact that my graduation feels incomplete. One, well we haven't had the official graduation ceremony and two, I still have not received my physical degree. So today, 22nd November 2020, is the Virtual Ceremony. Each student has been asked to upload a photograph of themselves which then had a gown and hat superimposed for the purposes of the virtual degree conferment. 


The inevitable Fourth Wave

The much anticipated Hong Kong to Singapore travel bubble has been postponed, two days before launch as fears of a Fourth Wave grips Hong Kong. Each time Hong Kong feels like it's in the clear, a cluster emerges. Complacency combined with what appears to be a high contagious disease, results in the dance of social distancing rules being relaxed and tightened; and so the dance continues. The latest outbreak has been tied to the Starlight Dance club, which on face value looks to be a fairly innocuous establishment, until you research and see what was really happening at these meet ups.

So, as expected Hong Kong has re-implemented social distancing measures and will look to reduce venue capacities and operating hours in attempt to stem the latest outbreak. It's quite timely, as I was just saying to myself "It's time to get back into the social scene" - the introverted side of my had completely embraced covid and the pause that it had provided for my social life. In all honestly I'm surprised there hasn't been a cluster at bars or restaurants with many floating the social distancing and mask wearing requirements. 

As we draw towards the pointy end of the year, it is a known fact that most people have back-loaded their annual leave, hoping for a Christmas Miracle. However, with corporate looking to wrap up in early December suddenly the Christmas and New Years period is looking less appealing for taking annual leave. 2020 maye have one the strangest silly seasons to date.


Wednesday 18 November 2020

Redeployment of capital

First dabble into cryptocurrencies - probably not the best time to enter the market, with the major coins trading at almost all time highs.

BTCUSD: 17,800 USD

ETHUSD: 480 USD

XRPUSD: 0.33 USD

GOLDUSD: 1780 USD

Close your eyes, buy and forget