The day of my surgery had arrived. I awoke early having slept very poorly, a combination of anxiety about what was ahead and the now ever present hot flushes (still present from the chemo). I had tea and toast at 5am and then tried to go back to sleep again. It worked, I did sleep until 9am. I was not allowed to eat or drink anything after 6am so no breakfast!
I had already packed a bag for the hospital, a quick check and we were off, we had to be there for 12pm.
My emotions were conflicted, feelings of anger, frustration, relief and a whole lot more…..
We went to the admissions ward and they directed me to a side room and the wait began. I was clerked in; they took my weight, blood pressure and heart rate. They inserted a cannulae into my hand and an anaesthetist came to talk me through the process that lay ahead.
After what seemed an endless wait I was issued with a surgical gown and was instructed to change. I continued to wait, about 5pm a nurse and porter came to wheel me down to the theatre.
I wish I could say I was strong and calm, but I wept the whole way…
Craig walked beside me. The poor porter tried to engage me in conversation, probably trying to help me settle, I wasn’t the most communicative with my snivelling responses!
Suddenly my bed stopped at a door and Craig wasn’t allowed any further with me. Again, I wish I could say I was calm and in control but I was crying so hard, I didn’t want him to leave me on my own. But he had to.
They wheeled me through to an area adjacent to the operating theatre, they confirmed my name and details and advised me the theatre was being cleaned following the previous surgery. I was left alone in this clinical area for what seemed like forever. It probably was only 20 minutes but time was moving very slowly for me. I was weeping to myself the breathing techniques I was trying weren’t calming me down.
My surgeon came to say hello and mark on my left breast with a marker pen the margins for the surgery.
It suddenly was very REAL.
They transferred me onto the surgical bed and they started to inject something into my cannulae.
That was the last thing I recall.
I remember coming round and feeling totally spaced in the resus ward. I could hear the nurses talking in the background and was aware of them checking my obs. They asked me questions about my pain, I had a lot of discomfort around my left shoulder and arm. They gave me pain relief which really helped and then at 10.30pm I was transferred from this peaceful environment back up onto the ward…not so peaceful.
I was coming round to my new location, I was in a small side ward with another 3 patients. The lights were dimmed but there was a lot of noise. Most of this was coming from the elderly lady in the bed opposite mine. She was shouting and screaming and seemed incredibly agitated and confused. She was unsettling the elderly lady in the bed beside her who also started shouting.
It was a very loud, tiring and disturbed night.
The nurses were also anxious about the amount of swelling around my left shoulder and requested my surgeon come back to review me at 1am. She assessed me and encouraged me to start moving my arm a little. I slept a little, especially after the nurses moved the party animal in the bed in front of me to another bay. The regular checks of my blood pressure and Oxygen saturations and the discomfort made for an interrupted few hours.
Far too soon it was morning, I was extremely tired. The doctors’ round arrived and they checked the swelling at my shoulder. Again they were concerned and they discussed the need for me to go back to theatre. This would be decided by my surgeon when she reviewed me later in the morning. I really didn’t want to go back to theatre, I just hoped they were wrong.
My surgeon assessed me an hour later, and was happy that I would not need further surgery…such a relief.
The nurses came round with basins of water and I sat over the edge of the bed and washed my face. I felt tired and weak, but I wasn’t emotional any more.
The surgery was done, MY BREAST WAS GONE, (thanks Cancer) time to move on to the next stage…rehabilitation.
No comments:
Post a Comment