I want to try to get this all down as well as I can remember, and it also gives me some time to sip on paracetamol and protein water. We got there around 6.40am and there was a little bottleneck of people all trying to be the first ones onto the ward. Not that it mattered since we all got let in at 7am and were then assigned a cubicle. They did it that way so that the surgical staff could go round and meet everyone in one go, and the tiny curtains meant if you heard the first conversation you didn’t really need to hear it again.
It was a lot of answering the same questions over and over again: when did you last eat, when did you last drink, when did you last take certain medications. Weigh in and they had me as 164.4kg but that was including my trainers! All of that self-induced panic about not reaching their target and they weigh me full dressed in my trainers and barely comment on it.
Met the anaesthetist (not the one I had the meeting with back in March) and she was very matter of fact, truthful and reassuring – I really like I could trust what she was saying. She didn’t sugar-coat it – when I asked if certain things would hurt, she would answer honestly, which was really reassuring. Then we met the surgeon and had my first internal wobble. He explained that if you have a weak diaphragm, that can lead to bad reflux and if that turned out to be the case, they would recommend a bypass instead of the sleeve. It also said that the bypass might not be laparoscopic but rather open. I nodded but that was my first wobble.
They said we were in the morning rotation so around 11 am, and that someone would come and let us know when theatre were ready for us and I could put on the lovely gown. I had several blood sugar checks (I hate them with an absolute passion because for such a tiny prick it hurts so flipping much!), various bloods taken and was only allowed to sip water. Stripes and I played Waffle and chatted/gossiped about the people around us and were doing fine.
I had to do a pee sample which was not easy since I’d literally had nothing to drink since like 6 am, and even me saying that it had been over a decade since I had sex made no difference – it had to be a test that was completed.
And then suddenly someone stuck their head around our curtain and said theatre were coming for me and my stomach hit the ground. I had 11am in my head and it was closer to 9.30 so I just wasn’t mentally prepared. Stripes helped me on with some incredibly tight compression tights (I still don’t know how she didn’t break umpteen nails doing so), got me into the gown and my dressing gown and suddenly we were going down to theatre. That felt like the longest and shortest walk of my life (good job we went by wheel chair as I wouldn’t have made it on my crutches) and I guess I should apologise to Stripes as I’m pretty sure I was crushing her hand. Time came to say goodbye and all of the glib words I wanted to say, the reassurance I wanted to offer, just deserted me. All I could do was kiss her hand, tell her I love her and then I was taken through another corridor and I couldn’t see her any more.
I sat outside theatre for about half an hour (I didn’t know that they didn’t realise I was there) but a kind soul popped out to chat to me. They said that they liked to come out and talk to the patients, offer a little reassurance and it was gratefully received. They said they would pop onto the ward to remind me that they told me so that I would come round from the anaesthetic. Then I met Rebecca (part of surgeon team) and she had me laughing while we filled in paperwork and went over questions again. It was one of the new theatres so everything was very posh looking, and there felt like there were a LOT of people in the room. It was nice that they introduced themselves but I couldn’t tell you a single name mentioned to me!
Cannula was as nasty as I thought it was going to be, even with the recommended squeezing my ear hard and being distracted by someone talking to me. I had to apologise and admit I hadn’t heard a word they said – whoops! The oxygen mask was very similar to my CPAP mask so that was actually reassuring and I have to admit, I don’t even remember getting the ‘count back from ten’ command or anything. The next thing I remember is seeing Stripes in a corridor waiting for me and being so relieved that she was okay.
I felt like I was in a LOT of pain and requested morphine which obviously sent me loopy as I don’t remember much of the next few hours. The scars feel huge, lumpy and just the furthest thing from keyhole ever but I know that they’re going to go down. Everybody says to get up and get walking as soon as you can, so I did go to the bathroom which was not the most comfortable but I managed it. All of the meds are in these giant-ass syringes with no needle attached so you basically suck them out, and I struggled so hard because even the smallest amount of liquid in my mouth felt like it was impossible to get down.
I know they sent Stripes home at around 8pm and woke me up every couple of hours from then, but that was pretty much all I can remember of surgery day. I’m going to take my paracetamol and then snuggle back under my blanket – I’ll fill in the next day when I wake up.
No comments:
Post a Comment