24. Operation

Well.  A memorable day. 

I had to be there at 7.30am.  We were there with very little time to spare, found the ward.  We sat and waited to be called.  I looked at the women around me.  Mostly older.  As they got called through, I heard that most of them were day cases.  I BURNED with jealousy.  Why me?

We were shown into a ward which had recliners in it.  It looked like the Nuffield's chemo room.  Not a proper ward, which, strangely, was unsettling.  It didn't look like a proper hospital room.

Most of the other patients (inmates?) were chatty.  I couldn't join in.  I know I'm antisocial but I couldn't make an effort under these circumstances.  One woman was there for her sixth operation, which she also called her last chance.  I really, really didn't want to hear it. 

First the surgeon came round.  I'd never met him before but by this point I was too far gone to register any feeling about this one way or the other.  Next the anaesthetist came and I remembered to ask for a premed. 

Blood was taken, with no problem, thank goodness, then the bit I'd been scared about all week, having the radioactive dye injected into the lump.  It was fine.  A really fine needle.  I was back on the ward by 9.30.  At 10.00 I sent R off to get a drink and have something to eat.  The nurse had said I'd be fourth on the list so I assumed I'd have hours to wait.  10.10 she was back, doing my paperwork because number three had gone in.  I asked for my premed, which she brought about 30 mins later.  I was starting to panic that it wouldn't have time to work before I went to theatre. 

She put me on a trolley, in case I fell asleep.  I was far too wired for that!  R came back and I listened to music.  Time ticked on.  I dozed (OK, I was wrong) off and on.  At 1.10, only 10 mins later than the original estimate, they came for me.

The trolley was wheeled down the corridors, and it WAS just like it appears on the TV.  I still wasn't freaking out and hoped I'd be able to keep it up until I'd been given the anaesthetic.  Into the anaesthetic room, which wasn't patient friendly and non threatening like the Nuffield one. After an initial glance around, I determined not to look and instead focused on my pulse rate (which has gone up since I stopped going to the gym).  The anaesthetist came, I asked for a local injection where the canula was going, he reluctantly agreed and didn't give the local time to work but the canula didn't hurt too much anyway. 

And... one minute I was there and the next I was coming out of a dream in the recovery room.  As easily as that.  Not terrifying.  One minute I was there.  There next I was gone.  Simple as. 

As I came round, my boob hurt, so they put more morphine in the canula.  It still hurt, but the nurse said they'd give me codeine on the ward.  I felt amazingly fine.  Awake.  Alert. 

It was about 5 when I was wheeled back to the ward.  I still felt OK.  I sat up, still feeling good.  I considered painting my toe nails (note to K!) but couldn't reach my bag.  I needed the loo but they wouldn't let me get out of bed to go, so (same as after I'd given birth) I determined to wait.  No bedpans!

At 6, R arrived and I got a cup of tea.  Which was amazingly delicious.  Which then came back up.  After 30 mins I felt better and he went and got me an iced lolly (hangover cure!) which was lovely.  Which came back up.  After that I slept.  I vaguely remember telling him to leave at 7.30 because he was sitting there while I slept and he'd had as long a day as I had. 

I woke up at 9, puzzled that it was still light, at 12.30am.  At some point I'd phoned my daughter.  Later in the night, someone fell on me.  Not much later the ward woke up again.  Breakfast came and went, but I felt ill so continued sleeping.  The consultant came round and prescribed more anti sickness med.  He also said that the lymph nodes looked clear, that the lump had been bigger than they thought (it HAD grown) but that he thought he'd got it all.  Fabulous news!  After he'd gone the nurse and I decided that extra anti sickness med would probably not make any difference. 

Finally, at 11 I woke up properly, with a headache that felt like a migraine was coming.  The nurse gave me IV paracetamol and I took some codeine which seemed to help a bit.  Gradually, gradually, over the next hour and a half I felt better.  Until finally, I felt like me again.  BUT euphoric!  The news was as good as it could be at that point.