The lead up to the operation

Everybody having an operation the same day as your admission has to arrive at 7am regardless of what time the surgery will be. This is so that you can meet your anaesthetist and see you surgeon before they start their days work. You also have to arrive early so that they can finalise the list for theatre, and to secure your time slot.

Failure to arrive on time could result in the cancellation of your surgery and so, ever the panickers, we arrived at the hospital at about 6.40am. The doors to Ward A are automatic and programmed to open at 7am and not one minute earlier so there were a number of people milling about in the main entrance, a short distance from the ward. Oddly we then found ourselves queuing up outside the door like we were vying for a good spot at a concert. This feeling was zapped as soon as the doors swung open, we traipsed inside and were assigned our beds.

When I had my surgery three years ago, it was the sight of the hospital bed which set off my tears so I had prayed I could stay strong this time, and not add to the stress of my poor parents.  I was taken to Room 8, bed B, and kept my calm. In fact, I found that everything that morning just filled me with more excitement; this was finally it.

The lady in bed A was very quiet and very nervous. The Prof was her surgeon also and so I heard that she was having her coccyx removed! He began explaining that the coccyx was named by the Greeks after it's similar appearance to a cuckoo beak... Perhaps he was just talking to try and calm her but when he then said “well it does when you get in there anyway” it made her go quite pale. 

Due to my possibility of infection, I was last on the list. They didn't tell me how many were before, just that I was last on the list. I couldn't believe it. But then it also made perfect sense, and I knew I should have seen it coming. They couldn't risk having the infected metal in the theatre when another operation was yet to come.  

This was the most sensible thinking the surgeons had so far shown that morning...

The first thing The Prof said to me was “now remind me, did we decide to take all the metal out or just part of it?” I really hope he was joking but he still wrote a little reminder to himself on my back for when I wasn't awake to tell him!

"Removal of metal"

When a spinal registrar came to see me and also asked what I was having done, I have to admit I felt a little bit anxious. Can you imagine how this made Mum feel!? He added two arrows to the graffiti on my back so they knew, his words not mine,  “where to operate”...

My anaesthetist was a much more collected and reassuring figure. I asked him roughly what time I could expect to be going into theatre and he said early afternoon, between 12 and 1 o'clock.

At least 6 hours to wait.

   

Time actually went pretty quickly and there were visits from nurses and forms to fill in. I was brought a hospital gown and paper knickers, and measured and fitted with the long socks you have to wear while bed-bound to prevent thrombosis.

I was going to wait until 12ish to put on this fetching outfit but then a porter arrived at 11.40am to take me down to theatre! It was quick change, hug from my parents and then I was whisked away.

I passed The Prof dressed in his scrubs with a funny little hat on and it struck me how this is his day job, something he does every week. He really is so clever, even if part-mad-professor too. I was wheeled down to operating theatre 3 and passed lots of people who all smiled and wished me well. I heard a chap call to The Prof that he was going to grab a sandwich before they start, and The Prof say he wasn't need for about half an hour. All weird things to remember, I know, but all things which highlighted how normal this was for them and helped a little with my nerves.

Though obviously not too much as my heart was beating very fast and, despite my remaining calm on the outside, gave me away when they began attaching all the wires and heart monitor in the anaesthetic room.  My anaesthetist got me to hold my hand over the edge of the bed to try and get the vein up; it was nervous too and trying to hide. Once the needle was in they injected something to relax me and I remember going all funny and feeling like I was floating. When I tried to speak to tell them I understood they were about to give the anaesthetic I couldn't speak properly and then that was it, I was gone...

...and I woke up in Intensive Care after a three hour op with a completely metal-free spine.