I mentioned in a recent blog that the thing that was worrying me at this point was the post op recovery period. I said that this was because of some previous bad experiences.
A few years back I had a nasty fall and busted my humerus clean in two (not humorous at all). Well, I lay on a gurney in the hospital emergency department for 36 hours and must have been tired because after they had finished bolting my arm back together, they apparently had a scary time waking me up. When they finally did, I came up fighting and ripped the tubes out of my arm, including the one installed to deliver pain relief. Serves him right they said (maybe) but anyway they didn’t replace it! I now tell everyone I can find in the op room pre-surgery to watch out and that if I do it, I really didn’t mean them any harm.
More recently, as part of this current magical mystery tour, one of many biopsies was on my kidneys and because the anaesthetist was a bit concerned about my heart stopping or something, he decided to give me a spinal block in lieu of a general anaesthetic. Well firstly, I had the needle while sitting on the side of the operating table, fully aware. And “oh shit” it hurt. In fact, I do believe I might have made a comment along those lines at the time. But they hadn’t finished with me. The surgeon played around with my balls until I couldn’t feel it any more, then inserted the cytoscope which I didn’t know about other than by listening to the team conversation (very proper as I was awake and could hear them). But then, the tip of the scope was above the area numbed by the spinal block and I could feel the thing poking around in my kidney. Oh, shit I said again, reinforcing their view that I must be a real whinger because they hadn’t felt a thing. But they gave me a general. I guess if my heart stopped someone must have re- started it because here I am.
Ancient history you say, water under the bridge. Well I would agree except this time round I am getting the full monte, straight up. Spinal block first to manage early post op pain followed by a general
Same procedure, two days later. Time to get out of bed and go for a pee. Catheter is out. I stand up very carefully, as you do. And woosh, without any opportunity to hold it, I dump the whole load of blood and piss all over the floor. The pain was like being kicked in the back by a horse. Apart from the pain, I found this very embarrassing. I was not brought up thinking it was ok to piss on peoples floors, let alone dump a carafe of claret with it. The embarrassment was shared with my friend Maureen a day or so later. It was quite funny really. Staff had got used to following me round with a bucket and a mop. In time, I regained some retention control for very short periods. So, if I sussed the need quickly enough I could just make it to the ward dunny before I had to let go. But I had to be hanging on to something because when I started, the pain inevitably caused me to collapse. Well, Maureen was visiting and bless her little heart, she decided to help me across the room into the dunny. What we didn’t factor in was having her supporting me slowed our progress a wee bit (no pun intended) and I didn’t quite make it. I let go; the pain knocked me down, blood and pee went everywhere and Maureen, in her panic hit the emergency button instead of the nurse call button. We can tell you, the emergency procedures in that hospital are first rate. Almost instantly it seemed we had people galore assisting, or at least trying to figure out if I had just tried to top myself or something. I even spotted a stethoscope or two, sure sign of a real genuine doctor. If the lifts had been larger, I’m pretty sure there would also have been an ambulance and a police car with red white and blue flashing. But they forgave me and as they didn’t deny Maureen entry later on, I guess they forgave her too.
So, thus I prepare myself for the next adventure. Oh, still have to get that full Brazilian organised.