I had to go into hospital for a day procedure. The preparation was worse than the actual procedure but I won’t gross you out by going into detail about that.
Did not sleep well the night before – not unusual. I get up and shower, unhappy that I can not have a drink of water or cup of tea. I am dreading the day ahead – anticipating the throwing up that usually occurs from anaesthetics. My friend picks me up early and the traffic is surprisingly light. The reception is full and I become anxious.
I am finally admitted and find out I am second in line. I am taken to a cubicle and told to change. The hospital gown makes me feel vulnerable and exposed. Then comes the endless round of questions – I get asked 3 or 4 times what my name, date of birth, and procedure is. Hopefully that means I won’t get mixed up with someone else – better to be safe than sorry. They do my stats – BP is good.
The anaesthetist is lovely and explains what she will be doing clearly. As she leaves I find myself inexplicably dissolving into tears. I try to settle myself by concentrating on something else – taking a few deep breathes and counting the hooks holding up the curtain around my cubicle – 51. I am unable to block out the noise and conversations going on around me but am thankful the curtain is drawn. I am very anxious – just breathe – in through the nose, out through the mouth.
One of the anaesthetic team come to put the line in and can’t find a vein. After a 2nd attempt she calls for assistance and they finally decide to leave it for the anaesthetist, who they say is a genius at getting the line in – 3rd attempt is successful thankfully. I do not enjoy the feeling of falling asleep and almost immediately waking again even though more than an hour has passed – I have lost time and it always freaks me out. However, I am very grateful not to awaken throwing up as I usually do. I cannot remember having an anaesthetic without that happening so am pleasantly surprised.
I awaken enough to have a welcome glass of water. I get dressed and have a cup of tea and sandwich. All good – still no nausea – happy. I have been asked 3 times by now how much pain I am in – ‘zero’ I say again.
I have to wait for the results before they can let me go – it worries me a bit that the person who went in after me got their report before me but the nurses say not to read anything into that. They were right – I am fine, no sign of cancer. I can go home now. This was what I was expecting even though I have been waiting since November to get this news. I go home with a grateful heart and the added bonus of not having to work the next day.