A nick in the neck
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away
Our hero Dave Sky-nando once again tackles Darth Urologist and her henchmen (and henchwomen)
An attack on Bl’dar with Cystoscope and Cauteriser once again threatens our hero’s sense of humour and builds further character. The battle may have been lost but is the war entering its final stages and will the evil empire be defeated? Read on…..
Things had started so well. Exercise, low blood pressure, packed and ready to go, a slow walk and get to the Hospital just after the time required meant no waiting around and straight into operating gown and curtained off area. Plugged into my MP3 player I was off and in to the zone I use to protect myself from the Evil Force of Darth Urologist. I saw the Deep Sleeper Anaesthetist and the Registrar before seeing my Consultant and chatting through the “just having a peek and a few biopsies” stuff we normally do, what to expect and as I’m an old hand at this we agreed that I knew what was going to happen and all that stuff.
I signed the consent form (I must remember to take my glasses next time) and all was fine with the world. At 1:30 the man came to collect me, I jumped on the trolley – we checked my name and birthday, he said “You’ve done this before” and he wheeled me off to the Prep room – for the first time it was the nearest Operating Theatre not the far one but they did say as it was Friday there wasn’t much on.
Prep was easy – my heart rate was high – it always is and my Blood Pressure was high but not as much as some of my previous visits and the cannula was in by 1:40 but there was no Consultant and so we waited. The Registrar said he was going to have to wait as my Consultant “Knew my bladder and what it looked like”. My Consultant arrived 30 minutes later and I was relieved to see she was all OK and that I was ready to get this sorted. I wasn’t too worried – I knew things would take their time I knew this as I had programmed myself to let them do this in their own good time and not mine. I was still pretty early into Theatre and I was in front of everyone else in the room so all appeared fine. The Anaesthetist got me to hold the Oxygen Mask on my face and blow me that’s the last thing I remember until finding myself in recovery.
I came to not knowing where I was or what had been going on. After a few seconds I clicked in where I was, where I was in the recovery room and then when I looked up to my horror I was wired up to two huge wash out bags alongside my plasma bag. I was breathing Oxygen but asked whether I was cathetered if so why? I had to wait for my Consultant to turn up and explain it to me. I wasn’t happy but then shoved up to the eyeballs with General Anaesthetic and other drugs – I doubt I was in any position to rationalise what was going on. No, I had two possible permutations. I was connected to all this gear like I was when I had my initial TURBT and my Re-TURBT (Scar Wars I & I). That could only mean one of two things – a major recurrence and therefore lots of cutting and debris to get rid of or a perforated bladder which is a risk albeit a low risk. I was hoping for the latter of course but knowing there had been a recurrence 3 months ago I feared the very worst.
My consultant came out and saw me visibly upset and explained that after she had started the procedure she had decided to take a lot more biopsies and to take some around the neck of the bladder. By doing that she would have caused trauma to that area and there was a possibility that it would restrict the flow of urine and be painful and she had therefore put in a catheter and wash through. She had also taken some samples from where she did the work last time. I forgot to ask the question but she may have said all was OK but I missed that. I was transferred to ward 8 (another first) and was hooked up to the oxygen and offered some water. I know what to do and so started drinking for England but I have to say I have never been this thirsty either, my throat was incredibly dry.
I managed to see my Consultant and ask the right question. It was amusing as she at first thought I’d forgotten what she told me in recovery. No I hadn’t I just hadn’t asked whether it was clear. The answer was pretty good I guess “whilst there were some pink areas, they appear to be from the past operation biopsies.” She went on ”The bladder looks clear and I would be surprised if the Lab reports come back with anything different.” It was then that she dropped the bombshell that I would be in until Sunday. Such were the nature of the cuts inside my bladder apparently that it meant it would have to be.
I found that they seem to allow mobile phones in the ward these days and so when Mrs. F. arrived she found my bag for me and I was able to text out to the world that I wasn’t going to be home Friday night or even Saturday but that it should be Sunday.
About this time it starts to get to the point where I lose my sense of humour. When the nurse took my blood pressure which was low for me and average for everyone else, they left my table, with water jug and glass and things on it pushed away from the bed out of reach. WHY do that – surely you must realise with all the stuff strapped to me I can barely move???? Numbnuts! I eventually see a nurse and ask whether it would be possible to assist me. They do but no apology! Attention to detail people – attention to detail – how hard can it be to work out that I can’t move? Damn, I was going to be in until Sunday and the girls and Mrs. F were doing the Race for Life run in London so how was I going to get home etc…
That night I managed to fire off some SMS messages from my phone and I settled down to some mince and mashed potato which was about all that was available. There isn’t a lot to be said for Hospital food at the best of times. The people were nice but I just seemed to feel that they weren’t paying close attention. As we shall see it comes down to you looking out for yourself.
I was particularly not looking forward to a night inside and with lights out at about 09:30 I started to listen to my MP3 player but gave up. I also hate being in Hospital as I am prone to snore if I sleep on my back and I don’t like disturbing other people. As luck would have it, I know how to sort this out by wedging myself over on my side. Easier said than done with a catheter and more piping than BP used to cap an Oil Well!! Luckily, as the nurse came down to check my urine bag he decided that the wash through bags were no longer needed and they were removed and a bung shoved into the Catheter and so I was able to turn in bed and in fact become free enough to move around. Carrying my bag I was able to have a wash and brush my teeth but how sore I was already was apparent and of course, you cannot freely move with a tube shoved up your penis and into you bladder (no DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME).
The night passed quite well – I was able to hook myself over to the left and hang with an arm on the rail and propped with a pillow so followed a night of fits and starts as the poor two chaps opposite me (Kidney Removed man and Appendix Man) had various treatments done, Morphine shots and all sorts. I was awake early and at 5:30 they came around and start the ongoing process of Blood Pressure and Temperature taking, giving out pills etc. The long Saturday had started. I got up, sat on a chair and plugged in my MP3 player and waited for breakfast at 8.
What happened next sort of started the whole thing off for me as one of the Doctors turned up to take my blood. “You must be joking I said.” “No, we need to check your white cell count”. “I’ve been in 9 times and this is the first time you have ever taken blood from me here.” I was obviously pretty put out and made it known that I was pretty pissed off. Its not as if I’m a real Jedi and needed my Midichlorians sorted out for pity sake. I find the whole thing tiresome and in normal circumstances it would not have been necessary as I wouldn’t even be there. Again, one of my problems is that it isn’t in the plan I had for how it should all go. I kind of said something along those lines that if they hadn’t carved me up so bad none of this would be necessary. Those who know me may suddenly realise that this is me at my worst – I don’t do all this fluffing about stuff and if I’m in that sort of mood you get both barrels.
As is usual, just as Breakfast starts so my Consultant shows up! Luckily she tells me to continue eating whilst she sees Kidney Removed Man and another chap out of sight of me who has some sort of blockage. Then my Consultant looks at my urine bag and says “That’s looking nice and clear”. “You really want to go home don’t you?” I guess the Doctor who was with her had explained quite how bad my reaction had already been to them wanting a blood test and she knows me and my ways “I’d like to I half pleaded.” “Well we can take the Catheter out now and see how it goes but if there is any restriction we would have to reinsert the Catheter.” Now I know what you are thinking, you’d have taken the chance but my eyes are watering just writing this and so I thought for about 2 milliseconds and replied that “I wasn’t brave enough to consider having a reinsertion (having only had treatment ones before) and that an extra day would be fine given the ‘risk’”. Also it made sense that like normal, it would be out at 5:30 the next morning and I’d be home by lunchtime. There was the little matter of an anti-biotic injection if a catheter is in for more than overnight but that was a small matter and once that was done it was just a matter of banging out 3 good samples of urine in jugs before they let you go.
Saturday was the most boring day ever – it was hot and airless and I managed to drink my way through too many jugs of water apparently. The TV requires paying for and at the cost they wanted I could have bought the TV. On and on the day went, visiting came and went and meals appeared and were eaten. A bag of sweets kept me sane and finally at about 8 pm my MP3 player decided enough was enough and stopped working. Luckily I have a back up MP3 player and spare batteries so I switched over and used that one.
Night again proved awful as it was hot and sticky. Somehow, around 2 in the morning I must have managed to go over onto my back – easy enough done with a catheter hanging out of you – it hurts like hell if you pull, push or rest on it. I was awoken by a nurse saying that I was snoring – apart from frightening the daylights out of me she asked the dumbest question of all time. Are you ready for this? She asked “Do you snore this loudly at home?” My answer? “I don’t know, I’m always asleep when I’m snoring!”
With that out of the way I managed to get sorted and spent what was left of the night in a fitful sleep making sure to lie on my side. Kidney Removed Man and Appendix Man managed to get on and off to sleep with some heavy doses of pain killers.
5:30 came and they did the usual vital measurements – again – low for me. However no catheter removal. Was it on the list? Yes it was but no one was acting on it until my Consultant came along. The Doctor came along again with her blood stuff but not for me – she probably saw the scowl I had on my face by then. Everyone else got tested though – maybe this was a new thing?
At this point in time I was a bit concerned as breakfast arrived and my Consultant hadn’t shown up. They weren’t going to remove the catheter without her and so at 9:30 I was relieved to hear her say that it all looks good that can be removed and you can go home. I remind you that this was 09:30 Sunday morning. At this point in time, I fully expected that by 10 things would start moving. I spoke to the nurse who knew nothing about it but had to find the nurse who was walking around with my Consultant. Then at 10:30 there was a break through – they agreed that my catheter can come out but they needed to make up some anti-biotic – I looked strangely at the nurse – “make it up” – “We haven’t got any it will take half an hour”. Now I looked surprised as you’d have thought that they’d have anti-biotic on a surgical ward. An hour later 11:30 or thereabouts she tells me she has got the anti biotic and turns up with a saline bag that has had the anti-biotic stuck in it. Now I often wondered why they kept cannulas stuck in your hand if they didn’t use them? She sets it up and then says – in a sort of absent minded way I forgot I need a urine sample from your catheter. OK so she does that and here’s where the trouble started I reckon. She didn’t get a clean go at it and charged the syringe number of times which really hurt my bladder and started it bleeding as the resultant blood in the syringe showed. Then she said that my cannula was gummed up and she need to clear it. So she disconnected the saline drip and shot this large syringe of cold fluid into my cannula - it felt cold and sort of made its way up my arm.
OK so I’m sitting there really pissed off now this slow drip is going to take ages, she’s hurt my bladder and I can see blood and bits coursing down the pipe to the urine bag and then I feel it. I start to feel a little nauseous and a little hot, then my breathing started to quicken and my ear drums started throbbing. Oh no, I realised exactly what was happening. My chest started to heave and I managed to get my MP3 player off and push the nurse emergency call button. I grabbed the arms of the chair and braced myself – the next thing I knew was I was coming around and mumbling and my legs and arms were thrashing about everywhere. The nurses looked pretty scared – I spoke to one of them and said I’d fainted (obviously) and they laid me on the bed, got me completely flat and this must have been around 11:45 as lunch arrived as I was lying down.
I explained that I was almost certain it was the flush of the cannula or the back pressure on my bladder. I explained that this was exactly what happened to me the first time I came in (Scar Wars I) when they tried to correct a blockage in my catheter and with a similar outcome.
You would have thought that someone would have come around to see me after 15 minutes or so wouldn’t you? No it was 30 minutes or more later that they came around and saw me – I then asked permission if I could get up and have my lunch as it was getting cold. “but its salad said the nurse” “I know” I said. So I managed to eat my lunch and then lay back until gone 1 pm when the drip finally finished. The Doctor wanted to keep me in and in no uncertain terms I explained to my nurse why she wasn’t going to keep me in and exactly why. This seemed to work and finally at 1:30 the catheter came out. Could I have the cannula out? No apparently not. I went for a shower and then of course had to do the obligatory 3 pees in a jug. I managed those at 2:10, 2:30 & 2:55 at 3:15 they finally came and ultrasound scanned me and I was free to go at 3:20 at 3:30 I arrived home.
Nine times in the past four years I’ve had operations, seven of them have been rigid cystoscopies and like travelling in parallel universes there is not one that has been the same as another – not one! What is that all about? Somehow I would have thought that there would be some sort of commonality as suggested in all the literature you ever get from the Hospital before you go in – but as in the Corporate World that’s just the advert – the real thing is often a lot different to how you expected it to be. Let that be a lesson to us all.