Today i had to go in as a Day Patient and have a small operation at the hospital. They wanted to remove some dodgy cells inside me that are likely to turn nasty if we were to leave them.
Now normal people would have this done under a local anaesthetic, however, as I am not normal I will have it under general (when they did the biopsy I freaked out so they thought it was easier all round to simply knock me out)!
The hospital gown wasn’t quite as bad as I thought (it had a back), and I got to wear a dressing gown and rather fetching slipper socks. Once dressed properly for the operation I was visited by what felt like a million people:
– the general day ward nurse, who checked my details and explained generally how everything would work
– the anaesthetist (and a trainee), who explained how the anaesthetic would work and answered my many, many questions about going under. I also had to tell her about any bruises I had (i think this is so they know not to put any needles in there?)
– the surgeon, who checked my details again and explained how the surgery process works
– the actual specialist who would be operating and removing the cells, who explain the procedure with diagrams, got me to repeat it back to her and explained and issues or complications that may arise. She also talked about the aftercare and answered my questions
and finally,
– the head anaesthetist, who ran through the whole thing again.
After all that James was asked to go to the waiting area and I was taken down to surgery by the head anaesthetist. I laid down on the bed and was told to get comfy on my back, the whole time people chatting away. As I was chatting to the assistant nurse, a needle was put into my hand and the anaesthetist started asking me if i felt a bit drunk. Yes. Was the room spinning? Yes. Did i feel a bit odd. Yes, my shoulders felt fluffy.
Then the next thing I remember is coming round to ask what the bag attached to me was. A saline drip.
And what this thing in my hand is. A canula.
Was I in recovery? Yes.
Can I have my knickers back now (I simply had the robe and socks on…clearly anaesthetised me really cared about having undies on!).
They went off to find my clothes.
I think I asked the same few questions a few times again and again until I was a little bit more coherent, then I remember being a bit confused.
After a short while I was wheeled into the post-recovery area and sat in a La-zee-boy chair. The nurse asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink, so I asked for a cup of tea 🙂 It was perhaps the best cup of tea I’d had lately. I went with a cheese and pineapple sandwich as well. I had to stay there until I’d eaten the sandwich and drunk my tea and also been to the loo, then they sent me on my way with a goody-bag of pills and a leaflet on recovery.
Overall, not the worst hospital experience that i’ve had lately.
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