I mentioned in last month’s newsletter (SIGN UP FOR A FREE BOOK – http://eepurl.com/cz-Mpv ) that I had been in hospital and was overwhelmed with the number of emails I had from kind readers asking me all about it, so I thought I’d write up a blog post to explain the circumstances.
I am well into the wrinkly era now, a time when things can start to go horribly wrong. I have however taken great care of myself. I go walking, from the front door to the car, and from the car to the mall. I repeat the process to return home. I firmly believe that if I don’t over extend my body then it will last longer. That makes sense, doesn’t it? There’s plenty proof. Why are there so many sports specialist doctors who were unheard of before people were into extreme sports and exercise? You could also blame the gyms and personal trainers repairing the damage of those who went too far in a desperate effort to keep fit.
Sadly, despite my care I cannot fight gravity, and it’s pulling all kinds of bits of me out of shape, including my water disposal unit. They advised I go and have that repaired, I understood it was a little like darning a sock?
Well, that’s what I thought, but let me start at the beginning – the initial blood test to ensure it was still circulating and disease free. DH (Dear Husband) was due for one at the same time. In our town, you go to the local clinic at 8am and they collect the said red stuff in batches. Two tables, two queues. Now I won’t go into details in case I faint, being hyper squeamish, but it all started with the kind nurse battling to find any source from which to extract anything from my little blue channels which had gone to ground. At table two other people came, donated and went while my poor nurse was struggling to find a willing vein. I emerged sometime later, full of holes covered in bits of cotton wool and plasters.
The pre op appointment was less traumatic, until I read the Google translate of the papers I had signed. They were going to take all THAT out! In a panic I raced down to my local doctor, no appointment, but with a performance worthy of any Emmy award she gave the gibbering patient five minutes of her time. No, that’s not what it says, but, if they find … it’s just in case … I wasn’t totally reassured.
D Day arrives, check into day clinic at hospital, get called in, peel clothes off in changing room, and I must say they have some very chic gowns these days, that wrap around you properly, not the gaping kind that exposes your backside to the world.
Next port of call was the premed room, and I lay on the bed shivering like an aspen leaf. I considered making a bolt for it, but having got this far decided to see it through. A charming young nurse approached announcing he was going to put in a catheter. What? Wouldn’t that be after the procedure? Didn’t he know I was still intacta so to speak? Ah this must be the Spanish word for drip. We had another battle lasting several minutes as he huffed and puffed.
He departed and I got chatting with the nice Spanish girl in the next bed. We commiserated about missing the weekend fiestas. After a while she stopped talking to me. Had I said something offensive in my pathetic Spanish? In the bed further over the patient was snoring. It was then I noticed the bed under my left hand was soaking wet. The bed was being anaesthetized while I was wide awake, that couldn’t be right surely? I managed to wave to a nurse and she had another attempt to connect me to the little bag on the stand looming over me.
I remember them sitting me up and I think stabbing me in the back with a needle and then nothing.
I came too when two nurses approached me, hoisted me up by the armpits and asked if I could stand. No, I crumpled to the floor. No wonder there was no pain, that must have been an epidural, I’d heard about those. They tried twice more at half hour intervals and finally third time lucky and they carted me off to the recovery room.
‘Go pee,’ they said and then you can go home. What? I’d expected at least a night languishing in a hospital bed. I’d loaded up my iPad with Netflix movies and stuffed my Kindle full of easy read novels.
I’ll gloss over the next bit, but simply tell you I waddled to the changing room, clutching DH with instructions to take plenty of Paracetamol and a follow-up appointment in a month. Oh, and there was a long list of DON’T DO. Thank heavens for Google again, but that bit about going home and doing a little light dusting must surely be a mistake?
Two weeks on and I’m still not dusting. Shamelessly I am now milking this for all its worth. DH has been the perfect Florence Nightingale and I’m in no hurry to get back to housework just yet. I may never get a free ride like this again in the future. Well, I also got an infection – not from the hospital – which added antibiotics to the painkillers.
I’m taking a translator with me to the follow up next week. I want to know what they actually did, and how much of the real me they have left behind. At my age I can’t afford to lose important parts I’ve lived with for decades. I still need them to walk from the front door to the car and into the mall.
Hope you are fully recovered soon. Your experience sounds similar to my recent hernia op, although that did involve an overnight stay and an interesting conversation with the estate agent in the next bed. No language problems here in Ireland! I hope you are able to walk to and from your car soon, although I wonder why DH can’t carry you.
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I mentioned this to DH and he was less than impressed! Thanks Frank. Fighting off my second infection right now, but not blaming that on the hospital. They were kind and efficient.
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I’m sorry to take so much pleasure from another’s pain, but this post is delightfully entertaining! I loved that opening with your detailed exercise regime and can only begin to imagine what it was like having a complex medical procedure exlained in a language that isn’t yours! The signed disclosure was terrifying and hilarious in equal parts! I’d also have panicked to find the bed was receiving the anaesthetic – but at least the epidural worked (albeit not without a couple of downsides).
Sorry that you’ve now picked up an infection but here’s to a smooth recovery and successful outcome to the original procedure. As for dusting, I don’t need an excuse not to do it…
❤
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Thanks Alex. I didn’t mention the part where I staggered out of hospital (note, no wheelchair) and it was only down in the lift and across the black marble concourse the size of a small football field. DH then propped me against a pillar while he went to fetch the car (it was free parking after all). I survived!
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🤣 ❤️ 🤣
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I’m glad you are at home and recovering. Yes, take all the time you need and more! I certainly would. The dusting can wait (or be done by a cleaning person). xo
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Ah thank you. Right now DH is doubling up as the cleaning person. Getting up to standard with plenty of practice 🙂
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Thank you so much for the update, and hope your recovery continues and is happily uneventful. 😀 I find my happiest times are spent relaxing in the sun… Take care, and armfuls of hugs. XOXOXOX
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L:ovely to hear from you Fran and hope you are well. I’m so not used to hospitals, you can tell and I remember you’ve had your medical problems. I so admire your courage.
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Dear Lucinda, we all need buckets of courage to get through life, and as I recall, I admire yours!! The things we have done take some believing, indeed. But, that’s in the past – thank goodness – and now we hope only for recovery, kindness and joy. ((♥))
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Thank you for the update. I hope recovery continues to 100% in short order. ❤️ Paulette
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Thank you Paulette. xx
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Very well written!
Wx
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Thank you Wendy. See above in comments for the final hospital exit!
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My goodness, Lucinda, what an ordeal!
Probably someone has told you this already… I too have tiny veins and it’s nearly impossible to take blood from me. A veterinarian friend advised me to start drinking water about 20 minutes before they attempt the draw. That has made a huge difference! It’s still a very unpleasant experience for me, but they can usually manage not to cause me to pass out from pain!
Even my surgeon remarked (when they were trying to anestheize me), “boy, they really had trouble getting that one in!”
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That’s a handy tip, I’ll try that next time. I thought as you got more and more wrinkly the veins stood out like fence posts. I can see them now. How do they know I’m entering a medical facility?
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Yes getting old sucks-all I used to do and was gone al the time and now I can only go places I can use a drive thru—can’t walk very long even with my walker. Hope you get better soon. So glad we got to meet while we were healthy.
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I am guessing who you are but this new WP layout doesn’t give me names! And the call this progress. Thanks for the good wishes.
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Hi Dee, so sorry about the problems you have been having post OP. It should have all been plain sailing. What a pain. Good luck with the rest of your recovery and hope you feel much better soon. Love Beth and Dave xx
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Ah I guessed right! Didn’t want to presume. Thinking of you.
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Hi Dee,
So sorry, was busy when your last missive landed so didn’t read it and therefore didn’t know you’d been in hospital. Enjoyed your narration of the event, although not funny at the time 🙂
Hope you’re OK now. Gillian x
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Thank you Gillian and if I see you tomorrow I’ll have your prize book with me.
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Glad it all appears to have gone well, Lucinda. A student doctor couldn’t get my catheter into one of my veins in the back of my hand, though he tried for fair while before the doctor took over! Reading this brought back memories, lol.
I’ve had two post op infections too, though it seems to have worked well so far… crossing my fingers!
Thinking of you right now xx
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I read your earlier blog post with interest Lisa and it was a great help. Thank you. Keep your eye open for more messages from me! Still not reassured all has gone well.
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This all sounds so traumatic, Lucinda – I do hope you start to feel a bit better soon. Don’t worry about dusting, just focus on getting better. Sending healing hugs xxx
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I have to admit I’m not too worried about dusting when I am well! Thank you for your good wishes Toni, rally appreciated.
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Thanks for the good wishes, Dave and Beth.
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