Scar Wars IV – A Scrape in Time

Scar Wars IV – A Scrape in Time
(Cue Music)
Episode IV
Our hero, captured by the NHS Guard is held imprisoned at their secret Headquarters cunningly disguised as a Hospital.
Stuffed full of Pills, brain altered through hypnotherapy he tries to escape from the evil clutches of Dr. Catheter and her foul band of followers, Captain Cannula, Sergeant Ivy Drip, Naughty Night Nurse (Yea I wish!) and Volunteer Trolley.
Can our hero escape, are the walls too high, are the steaks too rare, will the car park be empty, does anyone care?

Why am I asking you?

Light Sabres ready?

Underpants over your trousers?

Read on – if you dare…….

It was different this time. It was an early morning start, The Hypno stuff kicked in nicely and anyone who knows what a wimp I really am would be surprised as they only needed one herd of stampeding Elephants to get me in. Well no – I walked in fine and I amazed myself.

The evening before had been interesting as I wasn’t my usual bag of nerves and being hypnotised and also having some drugs to control blood pressure and heart rate were also a godsend as I was so much calmer this time walking in. I had even managed a good 5 ½ hours sleep – unheard of.

All that changed though. They looked at the list and I wasn’t on the morning list. I was on the afternoon list! Heart sinking like a stone we were about to leave but were asked to stay. 3 ½ hours later they allocated me a bed and so I was able to get ready, in some form. The wait had been almost unbearable but I listened to my MP3 player intently and just switched off – in my own little world. A real annoyance is that the have placed a water machine in the admissions lounge. I hadn’t had a drink since the night before and all I could see were people coming in and filling their cups and the water bottle gurgling. Another mind trick devised by the NHS without anyone thinking of the way it pisses off their customers.

There is nothing quite like having nothing more to concentrate on than having your operation. Have people at the NHS never had this experience? If they had they would surely change the system – no one “wants” to be there. So after settling in, getting changed and doing the obligatory measurements (NO not that one) I was fitted with my rather fetching DVT socks, Operating Gown (hello Cheeky) and placed on my pre op bed slider etc. I then had the rest of the time remaining to lay down, listen to music and look out of the window and contemplate the upcoming proceedings.

As is always the case when you are on “Nil by Mouth” the food trolley and drinks trolley come around, some one pokes their head in and then see the card and says “sorry”. The waft of food and clinking of tea cups soon gave way to a quiet period and I was settling back when about 2 pm the Registrar arrived to “consent me”. This is the form that agrees for them to operate, take appropriate action, turn you into an Arsenal supporter, have possession over your immortal soul and many other caveats and small print that you haven’t the time or the inclination to read thoroughly and that provide the team with a get out for everything including nuclear war, earthquake and political upheaval – all the things a standard insurance policy will not give. Acts of God included.

The registrar described the procedure. I have to tell you I questioned just about everything he said. The way he was talking this could be worse than the first or second operations. 2 days catheterization, possible puncture of the bladder wall! Jeeps what were these guys going to do to me – I thought it was a few biopsies – he was talking re re-sectioning and I had that last time. I did mention that and he said it was a "maybe" and a "worst case scenario". I started to prepare myself for a repeat performance of the previous operations. I had a totally different view on what they were going to do but, I had to be ready to wake up in the state I was in last time.

Having signed the form a few minutes later the porters arrived to take me to theatre. I was a bit surprised as I hadn’t seen the anaesthetist and so I grabbed a copy of the notes I made about my meds and took those down to theatre with me.

The banter was interesting the Assistant Anaesthetist was chatting to the porters about their tattoos and wondering whether it hurt. There was a sort of general consensus about whether it did or it didn’t and the upshot was that where the tattoo went over a bony part that it did. That decided - and me looking to find another piece of paint drying - I finally got wheeled in to theatre. We squared away the meds I was on, sorted out which hand to stick the cannula and, as always, I got the blunt one again! This was really the only point at which I felt anxious and I did some deep breathing until they put in some mild pain killers and then that was it. Off to the land of Nod.

I remember coming too and being very pleasantly surprised that I didn’t have a catheter in place. No drips, no water bags – I was even reasonably conscious.

I was wheeled back to the ward where I finally got some water. I had been gone just 1 ½ hours and of that 30 minutes were spent before I got into theatre and I reckon I hadn’t been in for more than 10 or 15 minutes.

I was told that I could go home if I could pee normally and so I started drinking loads of water. Knowing what it was like last time, I decided that the best strategy was to show them a good jug full. WRONG! No they wanted a series of these – If I’d have known that I would have worked on a series of smaller ones. Of course last time I did that they weren’t happy and did bladder scans. We now come back to not being allowed to drink for what must have been close to 18 hours by then. I had no drip to hydrate me and so I was drinking litres of water at a time. The upshot was that it took me hours to produce the required quantity and yet if I had managed to show them a steady series I could have got out earlier. In the urology ward I think things would have been different but there you go. I got out at about 10 p.m.

The Specialist saw me and was very upbeat. A very small area that was suspicious, which was TURBT and taken away for analysis and a series of biopsies on the original and other areas. The view that they had was that apart from the one tiny area everything else looked fine. In a few weeks they might be able to downgrade. I might have to do the BCG again but (hey) that isn’t so bad.

Right now, I am coming to terms with what that means. I think it may be too early to break out the Champagne but perhaps a small celebration might be in order? Hey, why not a big celebration? I think it will take a little time to sink in, part of me is saying it is great news - the best, another part is saying that it is a little disappointed that not all of it was got. Another bit, unheard until writing this says something entirely different - it has to be good news as if they had upgraded rather than downgraded then you would be in trouble. It's like when people win something and they say "it hasn't sunk in yet!" I know exactly what they mean - I don't know whether to laugh or cry, run screaming out into the woods or what. I am very pleased though - relieved and pleased.