Scar Wars VII
In a Galaxy far, far away
Our hero Dave-Sky-Nando* has to endure another trial by cystoscope.
Darth Urologist and her team have a plan to flypast the potential moon (don’t drop those pants Dave) to the planet Bl’dar and entering via a narrow well guarded pipe gain access to the inner lining and there search for mutant and militant cells of insurgents of the Atypia, Precancer and Cancerous tribes.
Any cells of mass destruction were to be treated to shock and awe tactics of the allied NHS forces.
The only way to mount this attack and fly the cystoscope through the narrow and tortuous passage is during sleep induced by her evil henchman Darth Anaesthetist. Our hero, overcome by mind bending drugs and sleep inducing chemicals is overpowered once more and the Empire does its worst.....
Dave-Sky-Nando, Jedi Master, Cancer Survivor and all around good guy, entered the concrete and glass citadel and the ward that is the pre-theatre preparation centre. He was pleased to observe that at last, the old surgical operating gowns “for Hospital use only” which – let’s face it are not a fashion statement, aren’t big or clever and didn’t exactly fasten properly leaving the patient to “moon” those within eye shot of the wearer had finally been consigned to the incinerator. The new, rather tasteful gowns are two tone blue, that tie up properly and overlap sufficiently so as not to leave the rear exposed unless you want to wear them that way.
I must be getting used to it as blood pressure and heart rate were high but not out of bounds like normal. An MP3 player with classical and easy listening music assisted the 3 hours between admission and being wheeled to theatre to go reasonably quickly.
The ritual of going through your details many times to ensure they have the right person and the other various checks are undertaken at this time:
False Legs or limbs?
Metal work in body?
Jewellery?
Loose teeth, crowns, caps?
Mobile phone, hidden camera?
Picture of the Queen, comic or other publication?
Sharp wit?
Uncut toenails?
Aircraft carrier, space station?
Criminal record (Mcfly, Robbie Williams etc)?
Machine gun, IED, tank?
Any drugs, cigarettes or alcohol?
Any scissors, water, lipstick, packed lunch or other dangerous stuff you can’t take onto aircraft?
Once you have convinced them that there is just you under the operating gown they finally leave you alone after you have signed your consent form.
This time and probably for the first time, I let things just happen as it is going to happen at their speed and not mine, I can’t influence anything including their schedule and the way they do things at the Hospital. I see my consultant who has a quick look at the notes and assures me as the anaesthetist checks me over that it is the usual inspection and do I have any questions. I don’t except that when I finally find out that the Registrar did me last time and I look into the eyes of the butcher who gave me such a rough set of biopsies then. I don’t know at that time, but I soon find out that he did me again this time. His trademark being that you end up with a catheter for his cystoscopies. A lesson from some of my Jedi friends might be in order....
Wheeled to theatre the procedure is run through again, checking who you are, if you have any contraband secreted about your person. I’m Ronnie and I’ll be preparing you. He did well and the cannula went in easy enough and the check list was mechanically run through whilst we waited for the theatre to become empty and for the anaesthetist to come in and deal with.
RU1?
RU12?
IM1 n U?
IM12,
U2?
Stupid Droids :-)
A guy who looked like Yoda tipped up and he was the head anaesthetist – I had met the junior who was also there. “”Sleep dreams sweet put you this will” said one, the other added “holidays nice you think now of”. “Ouch” I said as he started doing something nasty with the back of my hand where the cannula was and I could feel quite sharp pains in the vein there. They then stuck a mask on which was a first and so a combination of things eventually saw me off to sleep.
The next thing I remember was waking up, oxygen mask on and being really pissed off that there was a catheter in me again. It makes you feel as if you want to urinate all the time but can’t. It is annoying when before you haven’t had one and then you wake up and find that they’ve pulled you around enough for a second time to do it again when before it hadn’t happened. You also know that you aren’t going home that night like they told you – many times before - that you would. I was already pretty much sure that I’d be in overnight as it was an afternoon slot.
Two hours after going down to theatre, I was in a ward, without my belongings which were somewhere else as I wasn’t in urology where I should have been but another surgical ward. At least it wasn’t the one I was in last December which really was the ward from hell. Here the nurses all seemed very nice and after the two others patients I had shared the pre theatre ward appeared, our belongings turned up. Mind you, as I was all bagged up I could hardly move, another reason I hate catheter is that you are really limited in your movements. I had to wait until Mrs. F. turned up to get my stuff out of my bag especially my MP3 player.
The automatic bed was working well but again I had real difficulty trying to adjust my posture as I had this bloody tube hanging out of me.
It was on return to the ward that the full horror of the next 15 hours or so became blindingly apparent to me. The chap next door to me was obviously struggling. He wasn’t a urology patient but had just had a violent reaction to morphine and wasn’t allowed to eat or drink. However, he had what I can only describe as tourette’s syndrome. Up to 4 or 5 times a minute for all his waking hours he would be moaning, groaning, sighing, ooowwing, arrring, coughing, spluttering and so on. Now the nurses realised and tried their hardest to sort it out and tried medication etc. However, on and on it went. I used my MP3 player to best effect that I could without making a nuisance of myself and finally at 2 am he finally fell silent. I managed to lie on my side, deaf ear up, and get a few hours sleep. At least at about 4:30 when he started again I was sufficiently with it to turn on my MP3 player and try listening to that. I must note that my MP3 player gave up the ghost at about 9am and so if there is a next time I ought to take both players as this one needs a USB port to recharge it.
At 5:30 I had my vital signs done and good grief, 139 over 89 and 86 heart rate – amazing almost normal for me when at home where I try and keep 130 over 90 as a maximum. They then took out the Catheter which was a relief but it was a large catheter not the small one I had last time so I felt quite sore. I had been bashing the water back since 4:30 and so was ready to start to show them 3 clear urinations for which they leave a bottle. I was able to do two before breakfast and one afterwards. However it took over 1 ½ hours between sorting that out and actually getting discharged from the Hospital. I had to slightly force the issue but I was pleased to get out and get home.
The best news of all really is that it all looks clear, no red patches or anything else unusual they still took a full range of biopsies though. The lab reports I hope fully support that and even more than that I hope that this really is the last time I have to go through these full biopsies and cystoscopy again. Mind you, I thought that the last time until I saw my consultant. They also said they wanted me to do more BCG but then changed their minds. I’ll find out in a few weeks when I see my consultant.
There’s a bit of a mess where the cannula went this time and I am a bit tender today – I guess they smack you full of pain killers and today is the first day that bruises are coming out and that I am actually feeling sore in all the places you really don’t enjoy being sore in.
This time I knew the drill and what was expected of me and in both pre-assessment and the main operation itself, I expected things to go at their pace and not how I wanted them to, I drank plenty of water before arriving at the Hospital and all the time (when I was allowed to) which meant passing the tests and irrigating the bladder was assured. I was still slightly put out that they managed to end up sticking a catheter in and one of the big ones too. If I never have another one it would be too soon.
In terms of how do I feel about it now – well – I am still taking in the fact that it is clear and I am not absolutely certain what that means. I mean it looked clear last time but they found atypia. But if it is clear then I think that I go onto a maintenance holding pattern. I am hoping that this is flexible cystoscopies but there is a nagging doubt in the back of my mind that thinks it may mean I have to continue to have these full versions for many years but with greater periods between each one.
My continued thanks to my family and friends both online and offline who continue to look out for me and send me best wishes and prayers.
I hope that there won’t be a Scar Wars VIII.
*A creation of Steve Kelley Inc. :-)