Being Part Of the 'In' Crowd

As mentioned previously, I have never been in hospital before.  Little did I know that they are such a hive of activity. They take monitoring and evaluation to a whole new level. Urine, blood pressure, taking bloods, pills, anti clotting injections (that bloody hurt and often drew blood I'll have ya know), pills, catheter and monitoring of it. Then it's onto the cast that make up 'the hospital'.

Consultants are obviously the leaders of the pack and they only grace you with their presence once every few days.  Mine thought he was cool and basically had a humour bypass but hey he's a decent surgeon so won't hold that against him.

Otherwise you're in the hands of the gaggle of junior docs. I have to admit that the main junior doc assigned to  me was a bit of a cow and managed to freak me out no end at times when I just didn't need that. It was her first week at the hospital and so she was eager to follow the consultants words to the latter.  But freaking me out when it came time to remove my catheter for the 1st and then 2nd time was no help at all.  By saying that if  bladder didn't wake up soon I'd have problems for the rest of the life for some reason was not inspiring. It made me bloody scared and only seeing a bad bleak future for myself.  I do think that in terms of people these junior docs have a lot to learn- empathy is one of those things that goes cap in hand with experience and  maturity.  It was painfully clear that many of these junior docs were fresh out of school and had no idea about people or how to understand and communicate with them.

As for nurses there were good and bad ones.  And some that were a combination of the two much like Jekyll and Hyde. There was one who was my main nurse when I arrived - she tried to take out a line from my hand when it couldn't actually be done so she was tugging hard at my hand just to make sure and yes I did almost cry.  She was a bit of what I'd call a brown noser - licking doctors arses and smiling at the sister but at times she was an outright bitch.

I was moved to another part of the ward for my last few days and the nurse there was loads nicer.  She treated all of her patients differently and took time to get to know us. She had been an inpatient herself at the hospital for a similar op so had empathy and maturity.

Then there was the I work way too hard nurse.  She did something crazy like 3 or 4 nts back to back so stress, ridiculous workload and sleep deprivation  meant that she was horrible to patients.  There was no empathy, pure bossiness and general rattiness.  At one point my anti clotting injection that she had tended to give me a in my arm (tho it made my arm bleed) - well the next night she was going to give it into my belly. I told her to take her hike as one of the symptoms from my op was constipation and I hadn't been for days and had a really swollen, tender belly.  I told her no categorically. I won - it was in my arm. Yay.

And as for the patients, where do I begin ..........

Back To Reality

For obvious reasons, coming round from my op was a tad hazy.  I remember waking up and people talking to me, there was a nurse there and I remember my consultant talking too. I wasn't in pain but very very out of it - morphine was my friend that's for sure.

Here goes for what I can remember.  The surgeon saying that they had expected to take out 4 fibroids but they took out 6 (4 large and 2 small hidden ones that were hidden in the ultrasound). Everything went well although he did say the funniest thing.  As mentioned before I had my period during the op - due to the size of the fibroids my periods were bad - real bad as I hadn't taken trans. acid due to nil by mouth - my flow was left to it's own devices so basically went into overdrive. 

The next thing the surgeon said which struck me as being mighty dumb was "oh my your period was really heavy during the operation."  If I actually had the ability to be my usual sarcastic self I would have gone: "Duuhhh, why else would I have pushed myself forward for major surgery." Alas, my comment only took place in my head. 

The Big Day - The Wait Begins

6 months after my consultation, check in time has arrived for my abdominal myomectomy.  Had to stop eating and drinking the night before and check in was at 7am on the morning of Dec 1.  I had to finish packing and and then hoped into a cab to get me to the hospital at that ungodly hour. 

First stop was to report into admissions reception - everyone having ops in the hospital was there so it was certainly a random bunch.  I am fiercely independent so was alone - looking around everyone else it suddenly dawned on me that I was the only lone soldier. Maybe I should have had someone with me. 


Anyway lots of waiting around was the name of the day.  About an hour or so later my name was called and I was taken to another waiting area for my to the pre op assessment area.  Lots of waiting around then I met my consultant for the first time (my consultation 6 months before was with a lesser mortal).   

The funniest thing has to be the fan club of junior docs who surround consultants. It's like have he had his own harem of giggling young chicks around him (the docs were mainly female and rather young). The consultant looked at my abdomen and felt around a bit - he said that my fibroids had grown loads in the 6 months since my ultrasound and initial consultation.  They were no portruding above my belly button - I knew it was getting worse as none of my clothes fitted and that was both top and bottom plus even my bras were starting to feel uncomfortable as the fibroids were growing upwards.


He said that they were going to take out 4 large fibroids.  He explained the risks of haemorrhaging and I made a wise crack which he didn't seem to like to much - I can't help that I use humour to mask my nervousness and fear. 


Anyway, he left and the gaggle of junior docs took some blood (actually more acurately poked around my hand for ages to try and find a vein - an act I would become very accustomed to in the coming week). 


Then it was off to the kind of waiting ward where I was questioned by a nurse.  It was quite funny as she too was Nigerian and as well as the normal questions she was giving me advice to travel to Nigeria and hurry up and find a nice Nigerian husband as I wasn;t getting any younger. Not sure if those wise words are part of the overall nurses conduct but I took it in the spirit it was meant.  

Anyway,I was then left in a cubicle.  Fully clothed for a few hours just waiting then I was asked to take off my clothes and put on one of those fetching hospital gown with the open backs.  As it was 10 or 11 now I had a nap as it had been a long old morning.  


I was still hanging around until about 3pm by which time I was bored, tired, hungry and thirsty.  That was one long old wait.  A nurse came to collect walk me down to operating theatre where the 'fun' really begins.

Preparing for the Big Day

As a hospital inpatient virgin, I was a bit flummoxed about what I needed to do before heading into hospital for an abdominal myomectomy. Work, life, what happens if things go wrong - so much to think about and such little time. 

Home - well this was me setting up home entertainment (tv, dvd, hifi) in my room for those days post op when I'm not too mobile. Obviously this was a bit of a challenge and I've still not quite managed to get my Freeview to work but hey. Also, had to get in some frozen food and other bits so that I wouldn't starve whilst recupuratting.

Work, saying to my boss for the umpteenth time I'm having a major op and will be off for around a month or so.  It sinked in on my last week when all my plans had a big gap in December. So then it turned into handover notes time and getting things into a nice state where I could hand them over to freelancers etc. It was funny talking to colleagues about heading into hospital - had comments such as " I'd trade places with you anytime to have a month off work - could do with that at the 'mo".  Did point out that major surgery wasn't a walk in the park and a high level of pain and discomfort would also be part of the package so quite the picnic they'd assumed.



The main thing for me was worrying I guess - would I be ok?  Would all the fibroids be removed?  Would I still be able to have kids? Would I still be ok to be operated on as my period was due when I was being operated on?  So many questions and my appt with the consultant happened 6 mths prior to my my op so there wasn't really anywhere to turn.  I have to admit that I did a lot of online fact finding and people's blogs about their myomectomy experiences were a god send.  Some stuff I had to take with a pinch of salt and one thing that stood out was the fact that everyone was different in terms of how they reacted to the op. 


In the end to settle the what happens as I'll be on  my period question was settled when I rang the ward where I'd be and spoke to the sister.  She also helped reassure some of my general neurotic fears so that was good.  And thank god I could take tranexamic acid tablets before my op (outside the nil by mouth time) so at least I'd be able to leave the house 2 days prior to my op.  Without them another 2 days of my life would have been ruled out as my periods were just crazy. 

To Ab Myo or To Not Ab Myo

The decision to have an abdominal myomectomy was a big one for me.  Never been in hospital, used to having my own independence and the thought of things going wrong quite clearly scared me.  


Having had heavy periods and being diagnosed with fibroids around 4 years ago was where things began for me.  For the first couple of years my symptoms were being managed by taking tablets but gradually the impact of these was lessening and by stomach was ballooning.  

In the past year as well as starting to buy size 18 clothes (I used to be a 12/14) and am pretty fit hitting the gym regularly. I was effectively reaching the end of the road - and when I was away travelling worrying my arse off about what to do when my period arrived with its crazy flow and me sharing a room - I knew that I had to take action to deal with this.  The horrible fibroids that were invading my body had to go. 


When I got back from travelling, I had an appointment with the specialist 2 days and that was when I voiced that I wanted a myomectomy to have my fibroids removed.  The Dr went on to tell me the downsides of the op, how it's a major thing to do and the long recovery time.  But my mind was made up.  Being Afro Caribbean means that its more likely that the fibroids may make a reappearance.  I wanted to hopefully get this thing settled ideally once and for all or if not quite that, at least have some respite from my symptoms.

NHS Vs Private - The Big Debate

The recent huge international debate between the US and UK about private vs public healthcare earlier this year certianly fascinated me.  Up until then my main enounters of the NHS had been through my GP and heading in for the odd test now and then (not that I am odd mind!:) so I guess that you could have said that I was more pro NHS than everything.

In January this year, I was on holiday in the US and got pretty sick. As I was literally coughing my guts up and my ribs felt like I'd done 12 rounds with Tyson, I had no choice but to head to my friends private GP.  Wow, it was a private medical centre $100 just to register then you pay for the appointment and then you pay for your meds.  No subsidies here I tell ya. 


The medical centre was in the posh part of San Francisco and it was lovely, in terms of customer experience lots of wide open spaces, friendly and accessible helpful receptionists.  The doctor was lovely,really sympathetic and listened.  Ok - it does have to be said that my NHS GP's have been the same but for some reason the American level of service was just that touch better.  It could be argued that as I was paying for the consultation the GP had to be really nice to be as if I had been a local I could have taken my custom elsewhere next time.  None the less I left with a hefty prescription to relieve my acute bronchitis and allow me to be fit to board a plan to head home. 


The one big shock for me was the cost of everything.  Everything was plonked on my credit card and I kept all the receipts to claim on my travel insurance once home but still shelling out $500 was sizeable. The main chunk was my medications - one of the inhalers came in at $200 - ok it was super doper and was the one that sorted out my lungs and the bronchitis.  Only when faced with having to pay for healthcare consultations and their corresponding medicines do you realise how tough life is without free healthcare.  What would I have done if I was a low income american citizen unable to pay for health insurance - I would have had to wait until I was on deaths door before I could have a hope in hell of seeing someone.  That to me is a crying shame.  


My recent stay courtesy of the NHS this month was not the precise pleasurable experience that I had hoped for but it was free, I had a good surgeon who works in many of the prestigious private gynaecological hospitals - who knows maybe he had a hand in the birth of the Beckham clan! The hospital buildings had seen better days and some of the nurses were nice and some not so nice.  But the one thing that struck me is that you can't knock the fundamental ideal of free healthcare for all even if it is used and abused by some at times. 

Why Am I Here?

A rather profound question to ask but one which is actually quite simple to answer.  I had suffered from fibroids for 4 years with symptoms that were getting worse and worse. Often heading to the docs to explain this, I found myself questionning if everything was in my mind.  In the end, I realised that I wanted my life back and put myself forward for an abdominal myomectomy - actually I thought I would have had to battle a bit harder than I did but hey.

December 1 was the day of my op. This blog tracks my thoughts leading up to the big day, my 1st ever experiences as an NHS inpatient (good and bad) and how I am now doing in the long phase that is recovery.  Anyway, I figured that writing a new blog would be a good way to:

• keep me (and hopefully you) entertained whilst I'm home in recovery
• share my stories with others experiencing a similar op as the internet was where I found out lots of useful info

Anyway, I hope that you stay tuned for this journey :)