Under the knife

After being assessed in A&E I was admitted to a surgical ward. I was still in the dark regarding my condition. The doctors continued to "umm and arr" without really discussing anything with me, almost as if I wasn't there. The ward was all male and I made a couple of pals, mainly through a mutual enjoyment of football! This helped pass the time away while I was waiting to see what the next plan of action would entail? After two days of pain management and scans I finally got to meet my consultant. He was a really helpful and discussed in layman's terms what was about to happen. He explained that they were going to examine the "mass" they had discovered on one of the scans. They would be doing this by "keyhole surgery" and then expanding the operation if necessary to remove the offending article. The operation was going to take place in two days time and I was to be the first on the table! The next day or so passed quite quickly and as the pain was under control I enjoyed the company of my fellow "inmates". The day before the operation was spent filling out consent forms a being visited by numerous doctors and at least one anesthetist. There was also another visit from my appointed consultant who was accompanied by a flock of junior doctors who had come to "prod" my abdomen as I was a good example for them to carry out that two fingered tap test thing they do! Everyone and their dog had a go, which to be honest was quite funny! The night before the op I payed a visit to the chapel. Now this was a bit of a revelation for me as I had long since given up religion, but I found the peace and quiet of the small room soothing and it gave me time to reflect on my situation. On returning to the ward I was greeted by a nurse with a glass of water and a small brown tablet. She assured me that I needed to take the afore mentioned pill to "clear out my system" in preparation for the operation. Pill taken, I retired to my bed. That was around 9.30 pm. I was woken at around 12 midnight by strange gurgling sounds emitting from my stomach which were accompanied by a weird pulling sensation in my bowel. I sat it out for as long as I could bare. Then I had to sprint to the toilet where the world fell out of my bottom. This happened four or five times over the next two hours until I could go no more! I managed to grab a couple of hours shut eye before the porters arrived to escort me to the operating theater. I was helped onto the trolley and made my way down the maze of corridors to the theater reception. I then signed another consent form and was then moved through to small reception area where I had Lines inserted and a epidural fitted. My consultant popped out of the operating theater doors to say " see you soon"! As the doors swung open I was able to glimpse inside and see the room in all its clinical glory. The large light above the table was warming up to full power. The rows and rows of instruments could be seen gleaming in metal trays. I suddenly felt very small and afraid. It was then that the anesthetist who had administered my epidural gave me peace by uttering the immortal line " count back from ten" I think I made it to seven!