Operation

Obviously I know nothing about the operation, so this is really the story of the lead up and the recovery.

Jo was visiting when they came to take me down for the operation. It seemed that something always happened when Jo was there. I was given time to visit the facilities for a comfort break. The flight response was very strong. It took all my will power and common sense to stay on the bed.

I had previously tried to make my peace with God (well you never know!). No dramatic bargains, just to make an up-to-date confession and claim the promises that Jesus makes to us. I had a sense that it wasn't my time, but there are many other things that could go wrong. I said goodbye to Jo and was put in the 'putting-to-sleep' room. It reminded me of the vets surgery where we had taken our very scared cat many years ago. The staff had tried to answer my questions about what happens. It was never really enough. They connected me to a heart monitor, and started pumping drugs into my system.

I ran through the risks he had mentioned, I remember brain damage and death, but I'd thought of lots of others - being paralysed but awake being probably the worse. I'd thought about other possible outcomes. Waking up finding I had no arm, for example. It was all very morbid. The anesthetist got on with his job. Fragments of Dylan Thomas went through my brain. I prayed desperately, trying to overcome the urge to leave. Just the lines "Lord Jesus son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." repeated to block out everything else.

Two scenes occurred while I waited.

The doors to theatre opened and I saw a leg sticking up at 45 degrees or more, there was blood running down the side of it.

The guy who took me in to the sleeping area went in to the theatre and said to those inside in an urgent voice "keep the doors closed, keep the doors closed", as he left there was a pool of blood under the operating table.

Too late to run now!

"Think of something happy, you may dream about it"
"Help", I thought. The first image was of the new heaven and new earth in Revelation. The city is made of marble, but it isn't at all slippery, nor is it especially hard!

"No, that won't do, that's the wrong destination"
I thought of Jo smiling at one of my lame jokes, which she still does.

Some more drugs are administered, and I can no longer maintain the focus I have on the ceiling tiles. I can feel my toes, feet, and calves on the bed, but my legs seem to be missing. I waited for the line "Normality has been resumed ..." (Its from a scene in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy). It did not come. Instead, the anesthetist move over my body and adjusted something. I think I heard him say "good night". Just briefly there was the darkest dark I have ever experienced.




LIGHTS ON


"You're in Basildon hospital"
"Yes, I know" I rasped. I whispered "Go away", then more quietly "I want to go back to sleep." I turned over (in my head).

"You're in Basildon hospital"
"Yes, I know" I rasped. I whispered "Go away", then more quietly "I want to go back to sleep."

"You're in Basildon hospital"
"Yes, I know" I rasped. I whispered "Go away", then more quietly "I want to go back to sleep."
"Oh," I thought "that means its done." , I turned my head, and looked at the dressing.

"You're in Basildon hospital"
"Yes, I know" I rasped. I whispered "Go away", then more quietly "I want to go back to sleep."

"Did they take the cast off?" I thought, and strained to look. It had gone.

"You're in Basildon hospital, we're taking you back to the ward now"
"Whatever".

There was movement, lights, ceilings, bumps, I recognised the ward as you do the town centre after you've been away for a few weeks, It looks the same, but its not as familiar as it should be"

I'm on half hourly observation.
In conversation with the nurse I say how hungry I am. I'm not sure how many times that conversation was had. About midnight I'm offered tea and toast, and it arrives in minutes. That's when you realise how brilliant nurses can be.

No feelings of nausea, just a little indigestion.

In the morning I'm allowed breakfast. I'm on a drip, with a VERY short cord, so washing is problem. I have to get out of bed, and I think I wasn't supposed to. So by the time the doctor does his rounds I'm sitting in the chair dressed.
"The surgery went well, I enjoyed it - almost" and "If you are otherwise well you can go home this afternoon".

The ward sister told me that Jo had already been informed. I was supplied with drugs and paperwork mid-morning, as the schedule was brought forward to lunchtime.

Jo arrived while I was eating lunch. When I had finished, we packed our things, thanked the staff and said goodbye. I promised the nurses I would soon be ambidextrous. Jo wanted to get out of the car park quickly to avoid paying for the next 8 hours (£3). I called to her "Slow down. You're leaving me behind". That's the first time I've ever said that.

Back at home I have started to work out how to wash, make coffee (I can do that now), shave and generally live.

The days are a blur, I do not sleep well on my back, but do fall asleep randomly during the day. I am starting to collect photo's of the injury.