Scar Wars VI - Return of the Bed - I?

Scar Wars VI

Return of the Bed - I

In a Galaxy Far, Far Away

Our Hero returns having been trained by Yogi (sorry Doug it fitted)

Our Hero has lost his sense of Tumour

All that is left of the Carcinoma in Situ has been blown away

The BCG and its Forces of Good have smashed the remaining cells of resistance

Once again the bladder functions as it should

Our Hero, keen to ensure no further outbreak of hostilities goes once again into the NHS

Filled with Trepidation (and other mind bending drugs) he enters the Theatre of Operations

Just One More Time!

Darth Urologist and her evil henchmen having failed to operate last time are keen to get our hero on to the table? "Do you expect me talk Darth?". "No I expect you to cry 003 and a bit" (thanks Flocky - I'll never get a girl friend now!).

Having starved, as instructed and arrived shaken, not stirred at the Hospital, our hero was led immediately to Theatre Preparation but was told, as were the others in the area - "don't get changed as we don't have any beds and you may be cancelled." "Deja Vu" thought our Hero Nero! "What did you say?". "Deja Vu" "Wow I thought you were about to say that". Time ticked by and our hero practices deep breathing and self hypnosis and listens to music and generally brings his blood pressure from off the boil to slightly above having your head squeezed in a vice.

Then the inevitable happens, the Registrar walked in and said that we are cancelled but asks me alone to stay as I am a priority and it might be possible to find a bed. The chap opposite gets dressed and goes off to enjoy Christmas and new Year without his Prostate being bored out. The other chap, who has been very nervously waiting decides to pay to go private and within 15 minutes he is signed up and gowned and off to Theatre giving me a nervous look and a thumbs up. I smile and wave reassuringly to him. He looks like I feel - poor fella, I know what he will feel like in the morning. Bless his cotton socks, on the way down to Theatre he tells the Nurse that he is worried that I may get cancelled again. I tell the nurse that I was feeling for him too as he has been having a terrible time and was really anxious.

I am told that it is now looking very doubtful and I am getting to a point of having not eaten for 16 hours or so and not having drunk anything for 6 or more hours and Mrs F. turns up and we discuss going home.

Suddenly all hell breaks loose and they want me to change and get ready to go to Theatre now. The urgency in their voices can only lead to complete adrenaline switch on in my body as they rush to get me prepped for the Op. The Porter arrives as I try to put my music in to calm myself down as it was such a shock to the system. I cannot listen to music, my BP is off the scale and suddenly I am really anxious as if in shock.

I arrive at Theatre and suddenly there are about 10 people around me all talking at once and I am now getting quite upset as they are all gabbling on about something and I can't seem to answer one at a time and get them to ask questions slowly. Eventually I get some sort of sense and we go through the check list, someone almost gets a smack in the mouth for some garbage question but I just give an angry retort back to whoever that was over my left shoulder - I can't remember the question now just that it was stupid. Calm descends on the room when my consultant comes in and leans over and smiles at me, she notes my heightened state of anxiety, apologises and says they will try and make things calm for me. From then on, only two people talk to me - it must have been their lunch break - The cannula goes in and hurts a little and they start prepping other areas but this time with little urgency and not roughing me up as they were doing earlier. The last words I hear are "a little pre-med and it should feel like a gin and tonic without the hangover".

I awoke in recovery and had a drink of the best water in the world, poured from the purest fountain of mountain glacier water (or probably from the cooler) however it is the best coldest water and tastes absolutely fantastic. Then I found I was catheterised. I was not happy, in fact, it must have been obvious as the registrar was called over who mumbled something about it and how all looked OK but didn't really answer me why on this occasion but on none of the other I had this bloody pipe and wash out attached to me. As is usual in recovery you come in and out of consciousness. I went in and out the washout bag was removed and when I came to next I was going to ward 5 - they were impressed that I knew where I was going as they had to look it up and then said I was right :-) They told me as they gowned me up where I was going.

I was on Oxygen and a drip, I came off those shortly after 2:30 in the afternoon but they kept the Christmas tree of valves and bits on the cannula which meant it was cumbersome and liable to get caught which it did on a number of occasions. The catheter was (thank goodness) a smaller one than I have been used to and so it was uncomfortable but manageable. I started drinking lots of water. I was less than impressed when I asked for water to be told that it could be got from any of the taps. I did explain that as they had connected me to a bag on the side of my bed and that the tube passes between the guard rail and the bed that even Harry sodding Houdini couldn't have escaped, finally did they realise that perhaps they would do it. Eventually Mrs. F arrived and she got me some water but the same thing. On the last ward we were not allowed to get it yourself as they needed to work out liquid in and out. On Florence Nightingale's ward, the war wounded and other miscellaneous ill people obviously didn't have that sort of problem and I yearned for the Urology Ward where at least they understood such things.

The General Surgery ward - what can I say, lots of very ill and very frail people with stuff connected all over them. Two guys opposite were almost bed ridden both had made successful expeditions out of bed on their Zimmers to the door and back. They were delighted with progress as they should be, they had made a distance of about 12 feet each. I'm not detracting from their efforts, just to highlight the sort of ward I was on. I was fitter than some of the nurses on there!

So, I wasn't happy and the poor old nurses were running about with lots of sick people to clear up after and so I got left to my own devices. then I found out I was staying in overnight and the catheter was coming out at 6 in the morning and I had to pee twice after that to go home.

I remonstrated with the nurse about it and she said how did I know what this was all about and I did explain that as this was the fourth time I had had this particular procedure I believed I was qualified to know what normally happened. I didn't win any friends. I was getting, by this time, pretty hacked off with it all.

My consultant arrived and she could see that I wasn't my normal cheery self. She explained why I was catheterised after I asked her why in a voice that was scathing and unbelieving at the same time. Apparently she felt that peeing would be too painful on this occasion and decided to do this. Me? I think she let someone else do the operation and they were less than gentle with me and she had to make that decision. I also asked her why I had this thing drilled into my upper left arm/shoulder. It was an Analgesic needle apparently in case I needed pain killers. I asked if it could come out as I wasn't using it and am normally prescribed oral pain killers. Sure was the answer but the nurses wouldn't take it out until I was leaving which again mighty pissed me off. By now the Cannula was also beginning to hurt a lot and they wouldn't take that out either.

Frankly - bollocks to the lot of them was my attitude by this late time of afternoon - about 5 pm. I was in a really foul mood by now and the other guys were really chatty in the ward. I spoke briefly to them but then stuck my MP3 player on and tried to calm down. It didn't really work and I had a meal, and Mrs. F. and L came in to see me with a pack of Wine Gums (for medicinal purposes only). Mrs. F. was pleased that I was a little happier than when she had left me. Not much gets past her and L is a very funny girl and so we had a lot of laughs and L and I destroyed a large bag of Wine Gums in the time they were there.

After they left, it wasn't long before lights out was happening and I was happy to have my light out at 9:30 and try and get some sleep. I was still too angry for sleep and the MP3 player did its best. I got perhaps 2 or 3 hours of fitful sleep but the chap diagonally opposite wasn't at all well and coughed and wheezed and was constantly being attended to. In the ward across the way at about 2 in the morning all hell broke loose as the lady in the bed was horribly ill and they needed to do a major clean. There were bangs and metallic crunches and rings as people clattered about to control her condition and to make the bed fit for her to return to.

In fact, that is the thing about Hospitals - you don't get any rest there are always people walking past you or along the corridor and dropping things and banging into doors and people taking measurements and all that. It is worse before you go to Theatre as every footstep could be the one coming to get you.

The Hospital experience is not my favourite. I am hoping that this was the last time that I need to go through all this. The mental preparation and the dread of it hasn't gone away, in fact I am better at this than I have ever been because I have prepared myself for it.

I suppose the best news about the whole thing is the fact that the bladder looks OK, it has a few phaser blasts and light sabre marks to the walls where the BCG and surgery have done their thing and in reality, I am most grateful to the team of people who have done this for me. Whilst I may not have enjoyed the "customer experience" the outcome looks to be the one that I've dared to hope for. Another few weeks waiting around to find out the results and I hope to have a good reason for mindless celebrations.

So, after a horrible night in the ward, at 6 the nurse came and removed the catheter and joy of joys no bloody injection before hand - they fill you full of antibiotic and blow me if they don't come along and whack you with another lot - but this time, out came the catheter and all was well with the world apart from the leaking you get for the first few hours. I duly filled myself up with water and made use of freedom from the bed - on reflection I should have done a Mel Gibson at this point, stuck on some blue paint and screamed out "FREEDOM!!!" at the top of my voice. I doubt anyone would have awoken and it would have been met by coughs, wheezes and the odd fart no doubt!

I asked if they would NOW take off my cannula and the device on my shoulder so I could have a shower. "Have a Shower with it on" These people are taking the p*ss I thought. In fact I thought of harsher words than that and at one time, I was considering coming home and taking out said Cannula and device myself - how difficult can it be? I was desperate to get home. I managed to sort out a good pee in a jug for them and they recorded that, had breakfast and delivered another "good" one and then got the news "just one more" I thought they were "F" joking. When I said that "you're moving the goal posts" I was told it has always been "three". "It wasn't last night" and neither had it been at anytime before. Apparently now it is as I asked two or three people. I then decided to divide and conquer by getting all the nurses involved. Having done the third pee and it being of good colour and consistency, quality and quantity I could go home. out came the cannula which bled like you cannot believe. I was surprised I had that much blood in my body. The other thing in my shoulder just came out - it didn't seem to be in a vein or anything but there was a needle dug in me :-( YUK.

So I got dressed and we re bandaged my hand after staunching the blood. I said goodbye to my fellow patients and got out as fast as I could. Rang home and Mrs. F. came and got me.

The Registrar told me that if I got any infection (Cystitis) or any thing like retention I must get back into Hospital A&E (ER) straight away. He then informed me of the possible scenario - again he said that it all looked clear but that lab tests would confirm. Then said they would need to look inside my bladder again at 3 months.

Dread - I don't want another of these in 3 months. I really hope what he means is a Flexible Cystoscopy. Now these aren't particularly pleasant things to have but in terms of keeping their eye on you they are a lot better than the preceding I can tell you. My first and to date only Flexi was 2 1/2 years ago when I was diagnosed. The pain afterwards was excruciating but I feel I can probably deal with that now and it will be done locally not miles away as it was then. I'll find out in a few weeks time what comes next and I will try not to get too excited just yet about being clear. If I am what celebrations we will have.