Day 15 - The big day

Wednesday 23rd September 2009

As expected I didn't have a good night. I was too anxious about my operation to sleep. Even if I had been tired I couldn't get comfortable because I was wired for sound again. This time, instead of antibiotics, it was something to stop me being dehydrated during the operation.

Having been up, washed and into my theatre gown since 6am, it was a long morning.

I asked John last night to take home with him my radio, my MP3 players and other personal items. I was going to be away from my room for at least 48 hours so didn't want things going missing.

I passed the time doing some of my needlework cushion but the minutes just kept dragging.

Finally the theatre porter came for me at 11.40am. So much for mid morning…

In the waiting area of the theatre department I kept having to repeat my consent details over and over again. Each person would read the consent form then ask me to confirm my name, date of birth, did I have any dentures, did I have any crowns or veneers on my teeth and so on. It was getting a bit monotonous.

The anaesthetist who I saw yesterday came over and again I had to repeated my consent details to him. While the theatre staff were getting things prepared the anaesthetist sat down next to my trolley and started chatting to me. He asked where I lived then replied that his son used to drink in the Bluebell Pub (a pub not far from where I live) and that his wife, who was also a doctor, had worked in my GP's surgery.

He then said that he would do his best to make sure that I wouldn't suffer any nausea.

Yesterday I mentioned that I didn't really like the anaesthetist, well I was now warming to him as he was quite humorous and was putting me at ease.

Kermit popped over to say hello and asked if I had any objections to them taking photographs during the operation. He reassured me that it would just be of the hip area and that it was for training purposes only. I said I was happy with that.

I was wheeled into the anaesthetic room at 12.55pm and as usually the anaesthetist had difficulty in finding a suitable vein.

I liked the way they put me out. It was a gradual process, with lots of jokes from the anaesthetist and his assistant about alcohol, and I never even noticed that I was going to sleep.

The next thing I knew I was in the recovery room. I can vaguely remember being asked to wiggle my toes and that Kermit telling me that the operation had gone well.

It was only when I woke up a bit more did the pain hit me. Not in my hip as you might expect, but in my left knee. The recovery nurse pointed out that I had an IV morphine drip so I could press the buzzer and it would give me some pain relief. It became my new best friend !!!

I glanced at the clock and it was 7.30pm. The next time I looked it was 8.10pm and a nurse from Intensive Care had come to take me to the ward.

Unbeknown to me John had arrived at the ICU just after 6pm so had been waiting a while. Once I had been made comfortable in the High Dependency Unit of ICU and connected to various bits of machinery, the nurses allowed John to come and see me at 8.45pm. Unlike normal wards where visitors can go straight in to see the patients, ICU visitors are made to wait in a room and are then called into see the patients.

John stayed for half an hour. He wanted to stay longer but I wouldn't let him. I was concerned that he hadn't had anything to eat. However he wanted to stay as he was concerned about me. Reluctantly he agreed to go home but not before I reassured him that I was ok. I had had a drink of water and kept that down so it was looking promising that I wasn't going to be sick.

Because I was taking morphine I had to be on oxygen. I hate wearing an oxygen mask so one of the nurses swapped it for a nasal tube which was much better.

Attached to one of the bars at the bottom of my bed was a catheter bag. I'd never had one of them fitted before and it was really weird seeing your wee slowly filling the bag. There was also a strange feeling 'down below' whenever the catheter tube was moved. It was like going the sensation of weeing but with nothing coming out.

The staff in intensive care were brilliant. There was at least one nurse to every two patients and that soon became six nurses in a four patient ward. Never was the ward without a nurse so you didn't have to buzz and wait for anything.

About 10.30pm I was feeling a little hungry so was asked if I'd like some ice cream. It had come straight from the freezer so was solid (just how I like my ice cream). It took ages to eat but it was lovely, and the best bit, I didn't throw up. Yippee !!!!

Several doctors and nurse practitioners came to see me throughout the night but it was just to check that I was ok and not in severe pain.

During the operation I had a central line put into my neck. It was like a Venflon IV drip in the hand, only bigger, and had several drip lines connected to it. It was put in because of my terrible veins and that I may have to have several IV drips going on at any one time. It was rather uncomfortable as there were five drip tubes dangling from it.

Before the central line could be used an x-ray had to be taken to make sure it was in the correct position. This should have been done in theatre but wasn't, which didn't go down well with the staff on the ward.

A telephone call was made to the x-ray department and half an hour later two radiographers and a portable x-ray machine arrived.

Just before midnight one of the nurses asked if I would like to get freshened up. My left leg was completely covered in orange antiseptic, so too where my theatre gown and bed sheets. I said yes, expecting to be given a bowl to do it myself. Two nurses pulled closed my bed screens and started to give me a full pampered bed bath. It was lovely.