My date for surgery was set for the 2nd of April. Wednesday morning. We left home around 9.30, drove via dad’s work to drop off his cell phone then headed onto Manukau. Dropped off some photos that needed to be developed and did some window shopping. Around 10.30 I started getting hungry, so I had some jelly and the others ate something more filling, before leaving. We walked by a lingerie store, and I spotted some pj’s that would be perfect for after my op. Front opening so I wouldn’t have to hold my arms above my head and none of that awkward stuff.
So we brought those, picked up Geoff from the train station and headed into the Super Clinic. We were early so we took nana inside and showed her around the out patient half and had a look at the markets that were being held there. After that there wasn’t much else left to do. We got my bag out and walked around to the surgery side. We were still waiting for dad to turn up. It was 12.10 and I wasn’t due to be there until 12.30. I was content to wait, but nana suggested I go and log in. So I did, and was instructed to take my seat. I was sitting there for only 5mins when I was called to go in. I stood up unsure, and was walked to the door with nana and my sister Abby. I was only allowed one family member in so nana came in and Abby went back. I was a little nervous now. I wanted to see mum, dad and Geoff before I went into surgery and I had no idea what was happening, I was just told to wait.
Nana wasn’t helping matters. She wouldn’t stop her nervous chatter, and it was getting to me so I took out my iPod and plugged it in, and yet, still she talked. In the end she talked herself out of there and mum came and sat with me. Dad still hadn’t turned up and we didn’t know what was happening outside.
The anesthetist came over and introduced himself. I didn’t take so much notice of his name, rather his Irish accent. To be honest, he had me at that, I had placed all faith in his hands. Of course, looking at this in the long run, that is a good sign. The anesthetist is the one making sure you’re drugged up properly. You kinda do want him to be alert, and you kind want to be able to trust him.
So we went into a little room and had a chat, and answered a lot of questions that I had already answered at the pre-op examination the day before. He was a little concerned with my past kidney problems so he decided to provide me with a morphine pump for pain management after the surgery as opposed to other anti-inflam pills they would usually prescribe. During the Q&A session a nurse popped her head in the door to see if I was in fact me, and to let me know that my dad was waiting outside for me.
After talking with the anesthetist we were told to wait in the room and that a nurse would be in soon. So we waited, I was getting a little more on the nervous side, but managed not to cry yet at this point.
The nurse came in and gave me a little cup with water and 3 panadol and instructed me to take it. I wasn’t in pain and hadn’t requested it, but downed the pills anyway. One of my parents had a theory that it thinned out the blood, but I wasn’t sure what the benefits of that was… I mean, would that not mean more blood, thus in the way more, and more mess??? Doesn’t that make sense?
Anyway, after giving me the pills she went through and asked me the same questions that anesthetist had asked triple checking my answers. Then she gave me the HOT one size fits all hospital gown with the huge gap at the back to put on. She told me to take everything but my underwear off. I’ve never been a fan of going braless, doing this means I have to hold my boobies up and it’s just not a good look. The nurse gave me a dressing gown and told me to sit down while she wrestled to get the hospital socks on. What is the point of those things?! I mean they are tight and they gave me sores on one leg. And every time I wanted to get up to go to the loo (lots btw stupid drip) a nurse had to roll the bottoms up. And then they sent them home with me. As if I’m going to be able to get them on myself again, I don’t have the special getty on thingy she used.
So, once I was dressed up as a mental patient I was escorted back out to the waiting area and told to sit at number 10. Mum tagged out at this point and Dad tagged in. We were sitting, waiting, wondering what was going to happen next. We didn’t know, guess I could have asked. At this point mum had taken my bag with my cell and iPod in so I started in on the chatter with dad. As he was about to tag out again we were taken into meet the surgeons and have them draw all over me. Most people wouldn’t like their dad there, but at this stage there was a) nothing creepy about it and b) I needed a photographer.
The surgeons measured and drew and dad took photos. We were told we would go into surgery from here. We were lead back out once again to the waiting area and dad tagged out and mum and Geoff tagged in. Mum hugged me. We stood and waited nervously as the anesthetist hadn’t got me to sign a form I needed to sign. I was starting to get really really nervous at this point. I had Geoff in what was probably a death grip hug when he came over and got me to sign the papers. As soon as he turned, mum burst into tears and hugged me tight. She said it was because she thought she wasn’t going to get to see me before I went in and she was relieved, but GODDAMN it made me nervous. I admit, I spilled a couple of tears myself. I got one last hug in with Geoff and then I was lead off to surgery. I walked down the hall with the nurse so so so nervous. I wiped away a couple of tears and told myself to man up.
There were soooo many people there when I got into surgery. I shrugged off my dressing down and jumped up on the bed. It was heated and comfortable. I laid down tummy full of butterflies and watched in fascination as everyone seemed to converge over me. I looked up and remember thinking it was a good photo with all the faces looking over me like that. They put the blood pressure cuff on my leg (man am I sick of those!), undid the knot behind me, and put my arms out. The anesthetist came over and I felt much more relaxed when I heard a voice that I recognized. It was just that recognition, there was someone in here with me who I knew. Kinda.
He knelt down next to me to find a vein in my hand to insert the drip. He said something along the lines of having trouble finding one, which scared me again a lil but he got the needle in in one go. And then I was out. I didn’t even get to count down or anything. I think it was unfair that I was robbed of that one little pleasure. I guess they figured I was too old to count. Whatever. I was kinda bummed about that.
I think that’s about enough information for now. I’ll post the rest in another couple of days. My hands need a rest.