I’m in bed now, at 7.30!
Instructions are no hoovering, no making tea, no cooking, no walking dog long distance on my own, no lifting, no shopping, and to rest keeping dog out of way of drain, or vice versa.
Seems weird, but I’ve got everything just so up here, so before I settle down for the night, let’s give you a giggle.
Things have changed since my last surgery. No beds in the day ward, just seats, and set out gowns and sexy red slipper socks on the tables in each curtained cubicle. No need to get undressed until you go down to theatre.
Putting on the bottle green compression socks was a laugh as I couldn’t do it having no grip in my hands, so Hubby and I struggle like some kind of under training Cinders and Charming. The end result was a lot of sock under my foot as we tried to keep the top from rolling up over my knee. Add the red slipper socks and I looked like an elf in drag.
I had to walk down to the isotope room for my radioactive injection. At least I didn’t have to be wired this time. Still, the idea was that the dye would point the direction to the lymph nodes network during surgery. Apparently they’ve taken 4 maybe five and sent them off to the lab with Dick. I had a lot of people in fits of laughter over how I gave him his name.
I walked into surgery at 12.10, and the operating table bed was waiting for me.
The anesthetist was a bloke who had the bedside manner of a turnip, and didn’t listen when I told him about my veins. When he put the cannula in it bloody hurt and the room started to swim so I didn’t have much of a say in things other than I wanted cheesecake and how much I loved Hubby and Maggie.
I was on the ward by around 4 and Hubby was there in five minutes of my arrival having been camped out in reception. It was good to see him.
I slept on and off for the duration of his visit (how rude) and he left just before 6 as MSM had had the dog for us. However, he’d noticed my left hand was badly swollen and drew the nurse’s attention to it. The drip was immediately removed (it was almost empty anyway) as was the cannula because the Turnip had put it in wrong causing my hand to swell and they had to cut off my wrist band. I played air piano for about half a hour to get my fingers working and all is well tonight, though the vein area is still a little puffy with no vein in sight.
The lady opposite me on the ward had gone into theatre before me and had a lot more tubes and drains than I had. It looked like she would be staying in an extra night. The old dear by the window was waiting for the results of her two day tests and chatty to everyone (worse than me). She snored most of the night and the other older lady opposite her was waiting to see if she’d have surgery today, but had had a cold and was coughing a lot (great). She was a heavy smoker and they cancelled her surgery today so she has to wait again.
The young girl next to me had her gall bladder removed and was in a lot of pain, asking for pain relief all night and phoned her family at 3 am. I thought it was nearly time to get up until she said it was 3.43 and carried on talking. I was annoyed at the time until I found out what was wrong with her, then didn’t blame her. She rang her partner again at 6 to tell him how to prepare the formula for their 7 month old daughter.
Blood pressures were taken every couple of hours, and they also tested my sugar around 9pm which had rocketed to 12.8! This was down to the chocolate bourbon biscuits and cup of tea I had as that was all that was going at the time, and also the anesthetic. It had dropped to 7.2 this morning so I’m not worried.
Now the bit you’ve all been waiting for………… the bed pan saga. Guys you don’t have to read this bit if you’re easily embarrassed.
Yours truly has never used a bed pan, and anyone who’s been in hospital knows that your dignity goes out of the window on a broomstick.
Hubby had gone home and I hadn’t had a wee since 12.05, so as I wasn’t allowed out of bed (shucks), I had to ask for a pan. They are not like the metal ones you see in the Carry On movies but more of a shovel with a thick cardboard insert. The nurse was lovely, except I couldn’t go. Oh yeah, the urge was there, but nothing was forthcoming, so it had to be taken away and I tried again an hour or so later.
Eventually relief was mine but I couldn’t stop and they had to rush off for reinforcements as my impression of Niagara Falls continued to flow. I had the biggest Tena Lady napkin (2 feet square) under me all night, though I didn’t actually hit the bed so good was the team at catching me. If you’re interested, I let (d)rip over 2 pints in one sitting. This time not for me blue or even green wee, but a rather fetching aquamarine, which clashed wonderfully with my bottle green socks. The red slipper feet had long since disappeared.
I had another pan before settling down for the night and couldn’t go, but used an old trick of pushing on my stomach which eventually made everything co-ordinate. I had to call for a nurse in the night but she said I could have a commode, another new one on me, but better than trying to balance on a pan in the dark!
This morning I walked to the bathroom for a wee and a wash under my own steam and felt more human after cleaning my teeth and getting the black marks off my chest marking the side and op description I’d had.
The drain is a pain by getting in the way and I get twinges periodically if I move too fast. Once we’ve had a couple of days of less than 50ml leakage in a 24 hour period, we can go to the breast clinic and have it removed. I’m taking paracetamol which is perfectly adequate for pain relief for me, and all being well the dressing can come off next week. I hope so.
The site is clean and obviously flat, but I feel no different. My nurse friend across the road was right and there is no pain there at all, just uncomfortable where the drain goes in under my arm.
My bestie from SW days here is coming to visit tomorrow. I’d hoped to meet her at the coffee shop but I honestly don’t feel up to it, especially as the drain is bigger than I anticipated even though I was provided with a bag in which to transport it. I was told I could buy a Gucci one if I preferred, but pointed out that my days of designer stuff never started let alone were over.
I do have a rather nice heart shaped pillow from the hospital though which is great as the top indentation neatly protects the tubing and I can rest my arm on the bottom part.
Now it’s up to me to get the balance right for the healing process and not to push things because of impatience. Once the dressing is off, we should know when i can see my consultant for the results and I can drive. Hubby is adamant I won’t be taking a turn at the wheel on the return journey home, so that’s going to take longer than usual.
Much as we are grateful to MSM for her generosity in letting us stay here for the duration, we want to be home asap. Running around after Dick has taken up two months of our year and now we just want to get on with life.