It may well have been independence day in the USA, however it was the day I would lose a lot of my independence for a while, how long? ‘unknown’.
I had followed all the instructions and eaten nothing since 6:30pm the previous night, drunk nothing since 11pm. I arrived in the correct place in the hospital before the requested 7:30 am, having got up very early to shower and get ready. With ‘Day bag’ packed and no unnecessary extra’s and been driven there by my wife.
On arrival at the main reception I received directions from a man at reception, I thanked him and turned to head off and he wished me ‘good luck’ I now think he knew something I didn’t.
On arrival in the Day Surgery reception, up the stairs, the reception nurse advised I was not on the list for surgery. My heart sank, physical and logistical preparation aside I had gone to some effort to get myself in the correct frame of mind. The key to this was being able to plot out the schedule of the day in my mind. This failed at the first hurdle and I struggled to keep it all together. I sat in the waiting room with my wife, not certain if I would be operated on or not. I was left for an uncomfortable length of time, with my wife getting agitated. When I asked I was fobbed off saying she was waiting to hear from the ward sister. About 90 minutes later a nurse asked me to go through to a little room to check my details, and suggested my wife did not come with me. I asked her if I was getting an operation that day and she did not know. So I did not see the point in proceeding if we were not certain, at this stage she went and got the ward sister who came and advised I had been put on the list for surgery but they had not had it confirmed by the surgeons as they were in a meeting. She had not spoken to me as she wanted to wait until she had definite information to tell me. I advised that it was not pleasant to feel ignored when you are anxious about an operation in the first place, on top of being told on arrival you are not on the list. I was feeling very anxious and close to being annoyed, but the fear I was going to be ’shoehorned’ in was more overwhelming.
I got my name tags on my arms and went back to the waiting room and my wife had to go home as we had not planned on this taking this long and she needed to get back for the kids. A few minutes later one of the surgeons team came along to get me to sign the consent form, she was very quick and was adding risks to the form even as I was trying to sign it. This did not fill me with any confidence at all. It seems the primary concern of a surgeon is to not get sued ( I am sured this applies to more than just Surgeons). After a further 10 minutes I was moved to the Day Surgery Ward waiting room as the seats were more comfortable. I was there for over 5 hours … sitting … with out anyone even coming to check I was ok. Around 3pm someone called out my name, what a fright. It turned out to be the anaesthetist, he was very pleasant and asked a lot of the questions I had already been asked that day. He tried to show me a type of pain relief called a ‘blocker’ but the windows xp computer took for ever to start up so he showed me on his phone. It looked like some kind of mini epidural so I promptly turned this down as soon as it became clear it was optional and I think went for the more ‘traditional’ Morphine if needed after the operation. Among my questions I asked if I would still get home that evening, to which he replied yes, this was a minor boost in an otherwise awful day. During my 5 + hours of solitude I seriously contemplated going home. Thinking time in situations like this is always going to be dangerous for me. I kind of felt I had been rolled in to this situation. I could not remember the surgeons name on Tuesday night and was therefore unable to research him, he advised me against going private, however the way I had been treated that day was making me seriously regret following that advice. I was seriously considering getting a referral and going elsewhere for the operation, the only thing that stopped me, is that course of action would mean preparing myself for surgery again. However, I kind of wish I had…… and conceptually I do not like the idea of private healthcare, but it became very clear that ‘in my opinion’ the NHS has had it’s day. From what I had seen it it more about ‘political vanity’ these days as it was not at that point in my opinion anything to be proud of. From memory the NHS was set up to provide “Free medical care at the point of need?” This does not seem to be a good fit for today’s ‘exceptional customer service or I’ll sue you culture’.
I had a splitting sore head by the time the anaesthetist called me, probably due to the fact it was around 3:30 pm and I had not eaten or drunk anything that day. Shortly after I sat down a nurse appeared with some pills for me to take. I asked what they were and what they were for and she advised they were paracetamol and some anaesthetists preferred to get some pain killers in your system beforehand. Given my headache they were quite handy, although given my personal dislike for painkillers I was not overly keen to take them.
Around 4pm another nurse came to take me to get changed for surgery. I got on with it an sat in the room awaiting a further call. I sat there so long the automatic lights went out, I was expecting the surgeon to come and see me at any point, however when the nurse came back it was clear this was not going to happen, I had to ask, and even then they were not keen. However he came to see me, and was initially mildly confrontational before I think he realised I was anxious, this is something there is no time in the process to deal with. He recovered and went some way to putting me at ease. I could not believe how non-personal the whole process was. I could have had the operation without seeing the surgeon again. He left, but not before mentioning I was not getting to go home tonight, any good work instantly undone. and I was put on a bed in what I initially thought was the ‘theatre’ however I quickly realised it was too small. I had previously asked who else would be in the theatre and the question was avoided. I could see several people busying themselves in another room through a small gap in the door, and the anaesthetist started his ‘knocking you out’ process. A nurse put the little needle thing in my left hand (cannula) and I asked if I could see the theatre, apparently not. Drugs were injected into my cannula, a mask placed over my face and I was asked to breathe deeply, I remember feeling tired for around 30 seconds, a discussion about how they wanted me face down in surgery with my leg presented, a sharp attack of anxiety, then I must have ‘gone under’.
I woke up in the day surgery ward and my recollections at this time are not 100% clear. When I woke I was shaking uncontrollably, I then heard someone speaking to me and asking how the pain was on a scale of 1 to 10, I had no idea I only felt uncomfortable from the shaking, stuff was injected in to the cannula and I felt tired again and a bit numb. I don’t know at what point my wife and mother pitched up or the Dr who was assisting the surgeon, unclear what level of her training she had completed despite her getting me to sign the ‘consent’ form earlier. I remember her telling me after opening my leg up it was more difficult to repair as I had Thin Tendons, I asked if this would be the same in the other leg, she did not know. I asked a few more questions but it felt like I was speaking to a politician as none of the answers were clear. I remember being told there was a 95% chance of making a full recovery.
From then on I was given 2 large paracetamol and 2 Tramadol every 4 hours. Blood pressure, Oxygen levels and Heart rate were also taken regularly. With hindsight I should have refused these drugs as I felt no pain and they only led to me feeling continually spaced out and tired, not to mention constipated. I do not think the morphine after waking up from the aesthetic was even necessary for me….
I know it is a strong word, but I hated being in hospital….. maybe I am a control freak? I hope to never have to go back! if iIdo notes…..
Avoid drugs such as Morphine and Tramadol, unless I am experiencing pain on a par with medieval torture….. those things are awful!
Go home ASAP! you will get no rest in hospital….
To the detail, I had had open surgery to repair a completed ruptured Achilles tendon that due to it’s ‘late presentation’ had opened up about a one inch gap that required considerable work to close before joining it together with large surgical sutures. I am grateful for the skill of the surgeons and medical teams for all their efforts that will hopefully see me return to a normal life….
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