Preparation – the start of things to come.

I was hoping that someone would ask if I had been in this hospital before and I would answer “Yes” with any luck they then would ask “when?” and I would reply “1954!”  It was 2015. It’s a joke I had rehearsed for a while but no-one asked…!

Well this is it! Meeting the Anaesthetist! The questions are important but not taxing and there was a chance to ask some of your own. I don’t think I asked any questions. It was all clear what was to happen, I signed the forms; then…the parting words from the Anaesthetist.  “I look forward to seeing you later.” As one Anaesthetist pointed out “ when people ask what I do for a living I often say, I spend my day putting people to sleep and then waking them up”…

The next activity was the visit of the Colorectal Nurse who was to site the position of the ileoscopy bag. With my shirt open she asked me to bend and twist into many of the normal positions we encounter in the general run of life. The reason being was to mark a point on my body that would avoid any natural body folds where the small bowel would soon exit my body in order to connect with the ileoscopy bag. I would like to think she needed to consider where the six-pack was! Thankfully she selected the appropriate position and there were very few rolling layers for her to contend with. The small bowel would protrude only a little and only for a short time. (Well, a few months as it actually turned out!!)

Once allocated a bed in one of the small wards, I changed into the “gown” and also into a very tight fitting pair of green socks. Covering the entire length of my lower legs it transformed that part of my body to look like one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men! I had barely finished changing when the porter arrived with a trolley/bed to transport me to the operating theatre. I usually like going to the theatre to see a show, this time however I had a part to play admittedly it’s a non-speaking part, but I am central to the plot.

On arrival in the preparation room the Anaesthetist and several other nurses greeted me. I went through several questions to confirm who I was and whether I understood what was about to happen, I remember this being a pleasant time chatting with the medical staff. I am not sure who brought up the subject but we all seemed to join in on the subject of cycling. A cannula was fitted in my hand (a devise to enable drugs and solutions to be delivered to my body when needed.) and I was asked to sit on the side of the trolley. The gown was loosened at the back and I was told to expect a cold sensation. Oooh! I took a sharp intake of breath as some form of spray landed on my back. Oooh! it did feel cold but only for a few seconds. An epidural was then administered. From what I can understand this is an injection to provide pain management but at the time I thought it was a small tube of some kind. When told to lie back on the bed I inquired if it was safe to do so just in case I crushed the tube or whatever. Smiling they told me there was nothing there I had simply had the sensation of what had happened.

Whilst I had been in the sitting position I faced what looked like some form of ‘hostess’ trolley but instead of lunch it contained a number of medical appliances. I noticed there was one gauge that had the word Oxygen upon it – the needle being in the red zone and the word ‘empty’ adjacent to it, Thinking of the newspaper headlines… “Patient left in Vegetated state due to lack of Oxygen”(Yes, some people would notice the difference!)  I thought that I should mention it. Even bigger smiles from the staff “No, we wont be using that equipment, no need to worry!”

At some point the Consultant entered. “Nice to see you again.”  My hand was injected and within seconds I was sleeping. At this point the real work began for both the Surgical Team and the Anaesthetist. I wonder if, like my mum when I was younger, they were happy when I went to sleep?

Tractor Man

GBNHS

Bowel School

The idea of being invited to attend Bowel School seemed strange at first but, always wanting to support any offers that would aid my recovery, I accepted. I remembered   a sporting representation of the letters PPPPP, which translates to ‘Proper Preparation Prevents Poor Performance’. I did not want to be a poor performer.

My dear wife was going to accompany me to this class. I thought I would play a joke and pretending I was a little boy. I came into the room with my hands cupped holding a number of mini Mars Bars and said “look at what I made in Bowel School today Mummy.” You can now arrange the following disparaging words in any order. “Grow up!”  “Disgusting!”  “Have you nothing better to think about?”  “Is that necessary?”

There were a number of other patients present at the class with their respective partners. The session was led by the ward sister who had also invited a number of nurses. These professionals would guide us through a number of topics, which were to be considered in light of the forth-coming procedures.

The dietician offered many interesting aspects of nutrition and provided suggestions for meals and ways to adjust our present diet. My wife being very experienced in this area made a good contribution by way of questions, the answers were, I think, useful to everybody there. When we were given the opportunity to taste one of the high calorie energy drinks many of the partners seemed reluctant and sampled with a small sip. I do admit that, nice as it was, it wouldn’t become a best seller in the supermarkets.

Nurses from the physiotherapy department guided us through our recovery program.

Apparently deep breathing exercises can prevent lung infections when you are restricted in your movements. We all joined in, trying out the different methods of breathing. “Deep breath” was the command and as we all drew in and sucked most of the air from the room I am sure the curtains on the window moved away from the windows, though perhaps it could have been a slight breeze as it was a pleasant day outside… We then practiced a few stretching movements, followed by some recommended leg movements and as we performed this sitting down it looked like an armchair version of Riverdance! These exercises were to be performed at regular intervals along with the deep breathing when we were in the ward post op.

Any one expecting a few days in bed may have been shocked to hear that this is no longer the case. It is thought to be medically beneficial to be active the day after surgery even if that activity is simply by getting out of bed and into a chair – mmm at this rate I think I will be back on my bike by June!

Accompanied by one of the nurses we were taken on a tour of the ward. The design of the hospital is such that the wards are grouped around a hexagonal, which is an administrative area. This means you can start to walk from the entrance of your ward, around the hexagon and then find yourself back where you started  – the entrance to your own ward! It may not seem inspiring to visit a hospital ward but I thought it was. The sight of men and women in their hospital attire walking around the ward, gradually building the number of laps day by day and getting fitter and fitter was encouraging. Feeling sporty I wondered whether there was a lap record I could attempt to claim after my surgery?

Tractor Man

GBNHS