Notes from the Fella - The Big Day!

Today is the big day.  Well, today was the big day.  Sorry to spoil the ending, but everything is fine and our little Bandit is lying asleep next to me.

Done.  The end!

...no?  Okay, I’ll fill you in on what happened today then you nosey so-n-so!

A semi-sleepless night didn’t aid the 5am wake up alarms.  With the car turning up at anytime between 6 and 6.30am, it was essential we get cracking.  I finished off what packing was needed whilst the heroin of this story decided it was the best time to shave her legs, do her hair and put on some make-up.  She was in no doubt that the make-up was coming straight back off at the hospital, but one has to look good for the car journey!

Our driver, Paul, arrived just before 6, but luckily we were ready to “rock ‘nd roll” by then.  Bags packed, phones charged, we jumped in the car and enjoyed a traffic-free, sleepy Brighton town.  The journey was smooth and speedy, reaching the hospital just south of Birmingham in less than 3 hours.  With our Bandit ordered to be “nil by mouth” (bar water) since midnight, the soup at 10pm the night before would be her only energy for the operation day.  When the clock struck 7am, the last gulp of water was ceremoniously taken and our little Bandit would not see anything grace her mouth until the anaesthetic tubing.

The private hospital, being the first private hospital I’ve ever been inside, seemed very much like a Spa are first; people walking around in dressing gowns, nurses in red uniforms and lots of pictures of body parts.  Signed and checked in with our bags, the first hurdle approached: the pre-op check.

Much like the Aztecs and stories of wizards and dragons, a blood sacrifice was required by our heroin.  The doctor drawing blood took no notice of the advice blessed upon him by our heroin.  She kindly let him know that normal techniques weren’t going to cut the mustard, he however, was determined to have mustard with his sausages.  The first attempt did not work, and so he returned with a longer, thinner needle, which was re-entered into the same fresh wound.  For anyone that doesn’t like injections or needles, that last sentence can’t have been fun to read, so now imagine it happening to you.  Luckily, a switch of arm and bit of wiggling drew three little vials of blood for testing.  To keep you all interested, the blood type came back as A RhD positive.  So, if you live in the Brighton area and want to donate some A Rh D positive goodness, we’ll take it off your hands (£5 per pint, ONO).

With the hard part over, it was time to settle in to our suite. 

The room had a nice, big, flat-screen TV, an adjustable bed, wardrobe, wet room and a fan.  Not just any fan, this one wasn’t restricted to the ceiling, it was a fully adjustable, moveable fan!  But enough about the fan, we’re here for the juicy operation gossip! (For more information on fans, but see my fan blog, “Fan-tastic”).

After waiting around for a bit, our Bandit got into her costume.  Her ability to work a gown and paper undies is nothing short of exceptional, I think it gives inspiration for a new fashion line.  With us set up in the room at 10am and the operation set for 3pm, it looked like it was going to be a long wait.  Many games of Angry Birds were played, and I was forced (you read right, forced) to eat some food.  My attempt to go “nil by mouth” by accident was quickly abandoned when a Tesco sandwich and a pack of Snack-a-jacks disappeared into my mouth.

What seemed like a long wait quickly turned into a blip in time when two nurses entered the room at just before 2pm.  Our heroin was lead away, not to be seen again until she was wheeled back into the room.  I was left alone.

Feel no pity for me dear reader, I had a TV with Freeview at my disposal.  Jeremy Kyle was my company until the Bandit was wheel back in an hour and a half later.  Pretty damn speedy if you ask me!  Everything had gone well and sleep seemed the only objective for our heroin now.  Well, that and checking her obs.  I’m not sure if you’ve been through surgery before, I haven’t, but from the stories I’ve been told, people are unreasonable and unhelpful, not asking what their pulse rate and blood pressure is.  This, I remind you though, is not a normal person, but an incredible nurse, so I guess it should have been expected.

As I write this, it has just turned 6pm, and our brave heroin is sleeping peaceful with the sounds of Harry Potter audio books on in the background and me mashing the keyboard, trying to write something worthy of the ordeal our heroin as been through today.  But let us not forget, this is not the end of things, but the start, albeit the start of 2 weeks of soups and more until textured foods are flowing again, but still, the start of our heroin’s new journey...