Scar Wars VIII - Keeping a Sense of Tumour

A Long Time Ago, In a Galaxy Far, Far Away

Our Hero Undertakes One More Mission.

Darth Urologist sets out to Sound the All Clear but Instead

Tackles a Minor Insurgent in the Realms of Bl'dar

More Sequels Than Rocky or Halloween, Will This Story Never End?

Welcome to Scar Wars VIII - Keeping a Sense of Tumour or

“Where does that pipe go?

NO....You have got to be kidding!” 

Anything can happen in the next 30 minutes warned the Commander of Stingray and to some extent that's about what happened to Dave-Sky-Nando (tm)* on a sunny day in April 2010.

Packing my bag and walking to the Hospital on my own for the first time were parts of my strategy to just get on and see the procedure through.  It was a sunny day and my MP3 player pumped out some decent old music, if you like Kansas that is?  I changed Players once I was there as they sat me in with a whole host of other people waiting to be allocated beds.  As my old Jedi master Only One Bed Only used to say, Hospitals are just people factories, you get used to this and I should “Be mindful of the Force”.   In fact in 5 minutes I was escorted to my trolley and curtained off area and got changed into the NHS Gown.  They are certainly a little better than they used to be and at least cover up part of your modesty these days.  My other MP3 player was set up with quiet relaxing music and classical passages just to let me take things easier.  This time I had taken 2 MP3 Players as last time I had run out of battery power on one – this time I was not going to be without for lack of battery power.

I was relatively happy in my own little world, my blood pressure was through the roof – no change there then and on a second go it was down to slightly above abnormal.  We went through the usual check lists.  Loose limbs, Dentures, WMD, Grenades, cluster bombs, liquids, political news papers and pamphlets, crossword book and so on.  After they are convinced that none of these are in fact camouflaged under your gown you are left alone to get on with things.  I am happy with my own company, always have been.  Leave me with an MP3 player and I’ll be OK and so it proved except the Nurse who checks every now and then that you haven’t escaped or smuggled someone or something in would keep leaving the curtains open much to the distress of the guy opposite me who looked as if he was going to be shot.  So frightened was he poor lad and his companion had the devils own job to calm him down.  Me?  I'm an old pro at this.  I’m terrified but don't let on – only my heart rate and blood pressure give it away.   Ideally I’d liked to have had a few Prozac to wash down before I got there but that wasn't to be unfortunately.

The Anaesthetist turns up and we go through a series of similar Q&As and he leaves satisfied that he will see me in theatre.

My consultant D’Arth Urologist arrives.  I have every confidence in her – she is a matter of fact, charismatic, authoritative and highly respected.  I chat knowingly about what is going to happen and we say how quick it comes around and was it only last August I saw you dah de dah.  Then she says “we normally let you go on the day don’t we?”  Well, this is my chance to score one in the back of the net.  “No” I say “the last two times I’ve ended up with a catheter wedged into me and only once in all the times I’ve been did you ever get me out on the same day”.  She made to look at the notes – “Perhaps you had an enlarged Prostate?”  “Not to my knowledge” I said.  She looked through the notes further and then we discussed the consent form which I signed and she said she would see me later.  A brief smile and she was gone.

The Nurse decided on a couple more occasions to leave my curtains open which I quickly closed.  I have no idea why they want to do that – just leave me the “**** alone!” I think to myself.    The last thing I want is anyone looking at me or catching my eye.  I deal with these things better when I am in my own little world, my own bubble if you like.

As often happens, temptation in the devil’s disguise as the lunch trolley rattled noisily (too noisily) past our ward smelling quite good for Hospital food, that was followed by the drinks trolley and the general clatter associated with dishing up meals, cutlery clinking and crockery ringing.  Thanks guys we really need that when we haven’t eaten for sodding ages.  It was like the old system where we were sat next to the water dispenser – you know the ones with the water bottle that gurgles away.  Just what you need when you aren’t allowed any and people are coming in past you helping themselves and slurping away at the ice cold water. 

I’m disturbed by a Hip Doctor.  Now I don’t mean that he was wearing 60s clothes or anything like that, although in hindsight it would have improved the corduroy and stethoscope look a lot I reckon.   He picked up my notes; I switched off my MP3 player and made a show of looking as if I was sitting upright.

He looked puzzled.  Asked me if I was someone – who I assured him I was most definitely not.  “Not having a Hip Replacement?” he asked again I assured him that “Not that I was aware of”.  “She said it was here on the right – I wonder where he is?”  With that obvious whimsical rhetoric he departed my curtained area and proceeded to across the Ward where I heard him say “Ah, found you, good.  Nearly gave your Hip to some chap over the other side.  Glad I found you now.......”  I switched my MP3 player back on and remember thinking to myself how I'd probably prefer to have what I was having done rather than what he was.  Mind you isn't it amazing that you can get new Hip and Knee joints – that is just brilliant.

So back to me.  I know that there’s about an hour to go and so dash off to the toilet and get myself sorted out.  I’ve been drinking water steadily all morning so that I am hydrated properly as I’ll need to keep lubricating my bladder after the operation and it helps not to be dried out like I have been before.  They came for me about 1:45 I suppose – I know I was going into Theatre 4 (my usual one) at 1:50 and I would have been out by 2 pm. 

The prep guys were OK they normally are and we had a bit of a laugh especially when I told them I worked for a charity and they looked at each other and smiled and said “SO DO WE!!” very good.  The cannula went in on a 9/10 and I said it was one of the better ones.  Slightly further towards my wrist than normal but it was OK.  I grabbed some Oxygen and that was the last I remember of the day. 

Waking up I eagerly grabbed some water from the Nurse and eased my hand down and checked – ahhhhh joy of joys no Catheter thank goodness for that.  It felt like I wanted to urinate but that couldn’t be as they normally drain you out afterwards.  They had no beds and so I lay there for ages.  They moved me down the ward towards the exit.  I still wanted to go but the nurse and I agreed that it would be a surprise if that were so. 

I then felt really uncomfortable and asked whether they could make me a bit more comfortable.  Yes indeed they tipped me back.  The explanation is there is a slider sheet under me and if they tipped me forward I’d spill onto the floor.  My consultant arrived and delivered what is now the shock news that everything looked OK but that there was a very small tumour inside and that she had whipped that out.  It just seemed a throw away statement and so I shrugged my shoulders and said thanks.  She then said – you can go home when you feel up to it?  Now that did give me a lift. 

However as she walked away I got some real pains in my bladder area and I said to the nurse, I just feel that I need to urinate – he got me a bottle and pulled the curtains.  I have never felt SO RELIEVED as I was then.  I filled the bottle up almost to the spout – no wonder I was uncomfortable.  I don’t know whether my strategy to hydrate had paid off or whether they had left some stuff inside me to work after the surgery?  Who knows?  It was the best piss in the world and it didn’t hurt either.  That was to come later.

Finally they moved me to Ward 5 a surgery ward and the nurse there was lovely and really looked after me.  Getting between the Trolley and my Bed was a bit of an adventure as the Oxygen Mask was still connected as was the Plasma to the back of my hand.  That wasn’t an issue but as I got off the trolley the air pipe lifted up my operation gown so as I said “That was achieved with a total lack of dignity and decorum!”

I had to wait a while until they came with some food – well that’s what they called it and I had that, a drink and then all I wanted to do was go home.  They came and got the Cannula out – what a relief that is.  Then gave me my clothes so I got changed and texted Mrs. F.  As I sent the text Mrs. F. Cruised into view and was surprised that I was ready to go.  I said I’d walk home with her “No she insisted, if I fell over she couldn’t move me and I’d just had a general anaesthetic!”  Of course I wasn’t thinking clearly.  I checked with the nurses that all was Ok and Mrs. F. got the car, collected me at reception and drove me home.  I was home 8 hours after I had left in the morning.  That’s the earliest ever and yet they had taken out the tumour too.  I felt the best I have ever felt after one of these operations.  Sure it hurt urinating for 12 – 18 hours afterwards but you can manage that when you are home.  In your own bed and in familiar surroundings are the best place to be.

It looks as Dave-Sky-Nando (tm) * will be continuing to make visits to the Hospital and the story will go on beyond today and a new page has begun.   There will be more Scar Wars episodes and there will be a journey to continue to travel along.  It just goes to show, you can think you are doing so well and have made huge strides and great progress and Bladder Cancer, the little tinker, can come back and recur.  The good news, as we should all know by now is that it is controllable and with amazing professionals like my Consultant, things are manageable and treatable.

 

Dave-Sky-Nando (tm) * A creation of Steve Kelley Inc. :-)