Monday was one of my funnest hospital visits yet. I was initially just booked in for a pre-opp assessment but had to incorporate another day curve into the tests because when I didn't feel like the increase dose was making any difference my CNS said she wanted to check what was actually going on (although I reckon, pretty pointless as by the time the results are back it would only be about a week before surgery and as I learnt the hard way, it takes a relatively long time to actually make a difference).
I went in and just like the first time, had to wait for over an hour in the stuffy waiting room to be seen (it must be a monday curse). When I got shown my bed, the little wheely table beside it that they keep the tray of equipment and vials of blood on was fully stocked... they wanted 18 tubes today! Also on the table was a bottle of body wash that I have to use everyday for 3 days in the run up to surgery, 3 MRSA swab packets and my good old friend... a piss tube (in a discrete packet with a bright yellow funnel). As usual, Kemi put the cannula in my magic vein and started taking blood but about 3 vials in, my vein decided it didn't want to cooperate anymore and Kemi had to retreat to manually seringing the blood out and putting it into the tubes... even then it was reluctant to come out so after struggling to get the 9th tube filled she made me drink two big glasses of water to help the flow. It seemed to do the trick and voila, my first 12 tubes were ready to be labelled up and taken away. Next up were the 3 MRSA swabs, one taken from the squidgy bit at the back of the roof of my mouth, one shoved up my nostril and one from my groin/the inside of my thigh (which I had to pull my jeans down and spread my legs for lol).
Shortly after I was seen by two doctors. No idea what the woman was called but the man was called James and they were both nice. We had a long chat about symptoms and my history etc. They asked me how long I'd been feeling ill for before I got diagnosed. I've been asked this loads of times before but I never really know what to say... essentially I got diagnosed all down to chance. I've never really felt ill. Feeling generally a bit shit and having to actively fight to get anything physically done has always been the norm for me. I thought that was just the way humans were made, naturally inclined to be docile and lazy... I guess I'm lucky in the sense that I wasn't to know any better and that I've never felt unwell but then again, if normal for me isn't healthy, it's tricky to know what to look out for.
Anyway, so with discussion done and history recapped the little woman plodded off to see someone else in for their assessment and James was left to carry out lots of little tests on me. He prodded my abdomen and asked if I felt any pains (I didn't), he tickled different parts of my arms and legs to make sure I could feel sensation (I could), he tested my strength in my neck and limbs by getting me to push against him in all different ways, he did the red pin test to test my peripheral vision and probably did some other little things that I can't remember.
Physical tests done and I needed to pee. I had to scurry around the corner and try and find Kemi to assemble the confusing funnel-tube contraption. Slightly embarrassing having the whole of the unit watching me prep to pee. So I went into the bathroom and did my business (all over my hands) but hey ho, oh well, at least that was one awkward process over with. Yeah... until I opened the door and saw Kemi on the other side... I had to hand it over to her while it was still warm. We both ignored the awkwardness of the situation- I sat back onto my bed and she wandered off to help someone else.
After a couple of games of 2048, Kemi came and asked me to move into a more private room (the room I was initially in didn't have a door and if I drew back the curtain I could party with about 10 other people). Don't think it was for the privacy though, more for the space. Next up was my ECG and the big machine needed room. She stuck 10 sticky labels on me- one on each ankle, 4 around the bottom of my left boob, one on each wrist and two on my chest. She then clipped a wire to each one and pressed the button on the machine twice. The machine printed out two graphs (?) which looked cool. No idea what they read but they looked cool. She took another couple vials of my blood again and sent me up to my anesthetist appointment.
The room was stuffy and the receptionist was a big burly woman who seemed to huff and puff about everything but all I actually saw her do was tick two names off a list and book a doctor's appointment for herself. I had to wait in there for an hour and a half and it was super boring to say the least.When I was finally seen I was a bit disappointed with the appointment. She just asked me a load of questions she could have found out by looking at my notes and then I was done and sent on my merry way. That room is gonna be the room I have to check in at at 7am on the 26th and where I'll go from to theatre... all felt a bit surreal.
So after that I hurried back downstairs with my file to the PIU ready for my next set of bloods to be drawn. Kemi awaited me with my hospital packed lunch, took my blood and left me to have a nap (I've not been sleeping very well recently, I can't reach the land of nod until about 3:30/4am, so it's perfectly fine when I can sleep in until midday but on the days I have to get up at 8am, an afternoon snooze is very much needed).
Two hours later and it's time for my final set of bloods. The final little test before the big op! I felt a little sad knowing it was the last time I was gonna spend the day in PIU. It's friendly in there and I love nurse Kems. Anyway, bloods drawn, Kemi took my cannula out and popped a plaster on me. While she was labelling up the tubes I put my white jumper on and just as I was about to put my coat on too, I looked and saw a little red patch coming through my chunky knit. Damn it. I pulled up my sleeve and it looked like I'd been massacred. My whole arm was coated in blood and I was dripping all over the floor. Kemi rushed to the rescue and stopped the bleeding with a bit of pressure and a little cotton swab. Once the blood stopped she cleaned me up and soaked my (once white) jumper. 'Nevermind', I thought, it was getting old and bobbly anyway. But my girl Kems worked her magic and after she was done with it it looked good as new. So off I trotted, sent home with a bright green carrier bag of soggy clothes. Like a child who has pissed themselves at school.
Its only 9 days until my surgery now and I'm feeling excited! Not really looking forward to feeling like I've been hit by a bus, but the closer the surgery, the closer the recovery. And health is wealth. I'm cramming in as much nice stuff as possible before I'm out of action for the whole of summer and most probably christmas. -Pottery class in the morning, pedicures, haircuts and a date at the zoo with my granddad next week! It's only up from here...
No comments:
Post a Comment