Well, I suppose I should update this blog. Having an operation puts a serious dent into my redocorating and spring-cleaning. It’s upset the flow.
H dropped me off at 7am at the hospital Thursday morning and stayed with me until it was time for me to strip and change into the hospital gown and surgical socks. I felt a little like a factory product, ready to be processed. First the waiting room of people also having an op that day – mostly elderly women. Then a wait in another room to answer the same questions I’d been asked before. Then the change and into another room to wait with fellow victims similarly in fashionable dress. Finally onto a bed and a wait for the deed. I got the first bed and was up first. I felt remarkably calm as I was wheeled into the operating theatre. As the man injected into my hand saying “you’re falling asleep now” I lay there looking at the ceiling thinking “no I’m not” and then voom, I was out.
All done by mid-morning and I was wheeled, groggy, to the ward with two other women and another arrived shortly after I did. They’d had different operations and two of them had the indignity of having to cart round bottles of pus and blood draining from their wounds whenever they got up to go to the toilet. I was spared that, thankfully. I slept most of the day. H visited and I struggled to keep awake. The only meal I got, in the evening, was some sort of meat pie, overcooked broccoli and mashed potato, which I suspect was of the powdered variety, all luke warm.
I spent one night in hospital and it was a sleepless one. There was no actual door to the room we were in, so we heard all voices, snoring, farting, and various noises of doors closing and beeping machinery throughout, as well as nurses/doctors coming to take blood pressure and blood every couple of hours. None of them bothered to whisper or silence any machines.
I was ok’d to go home at 10.15 but it was about noon by the time I got the paperwork, etc, done. I did get a breakfast of porridge, fruit and jelly. I didn’t eat the bread and jam. The cup of tea tasted like milo. As soon as I got home, I went to bed and slept for a couple of hours.
I haven’t felt like doing anything since except read books or watch TV, which is natural, I suppose. I feel fine except there is still some pain. I had the stitches out today but the wound still looks bruised and ugly. At least it doesn’t look as ugly as the hideous dressing that the nurse put on when I left the hospital.
I hope both the pain and bruising has gone by the time I go back to work on Monday. I would have liked to have made use of this time off work, but alas, the mood has passed and I’ll need to make new lists and find the motivation again. Even taking a daily photo has been a struggle.
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