Pain Like No Other

Ok that's enough for now about my fellow inmates  patients at the hospital.  Now back to the reason that I was in there, to have an abdominal myomectomy.

I went in for my op on a Tuesday and went home on the Saturday.  It has to be said that I have never experienced pain like it.  For 3 days post op I had my own morphine pca, basically press a button for pain relief.  I kind of liked it but after a while morphine is very strong so the docs and nurses wean you off it. Oohhh noo.  Anyway, my body basically felt like I'd done 10 rounds in a boxing ring.  My stomach was swollen and tender.  I had a catheter in for most of the week and didn't go for a number 2 for a good 3/4 days.

As you are less reliant on morphine, you are encouraged to move around a bit more as that's gets your body working and heading back to some kind of normality.  Generally at the beginning when I tried standing and walking around I felt dizzy and unsteady but slowly but surely I got used to it.  It was nice to walk over to talk to other people on the ward. I certainly was no 100 metre sprinter and generally had a hand pressed on my abdomen as it gave me some comfort.

Once the morphine had gone it was onto those lovely painkiller 'cocktails' codeine, ibuprofen and paracetamol.  Lots to begin with at regular intervals during the day.  Week 1 and week 2 post op were definitely the most painful.

It hurt to past wind - oh my god did it hurt.  Part of the stomach bloating is due to a build up of gas so that needed a means of escape and it was certainly painful,  you really found out how gas passes through your body, could have made your own map! Sneezing also hurt, as did laughing.  All these normally usual bodily functions turned into pain.

Getting out of bed was another excuse for pain.  As your ab muscles are not working, being able to manoeuvre yourself in and out of bed, chairs or anything else was an art in itself. The trick was to rotate  your legs to be over the side of the bed then to swing your body over and push yourself up with your arms.

And The Jumper

Ok, as well as the addict, the other fascinating character was the one in bed opposite.  She must have been mid to late 20's, was married and had her mother who came in to see her often.  Basically, when I was brought in and coming around from the general anaesthetic and the morphine highs, I kept smiling at her.  All she did was scowl back.

Anyway, it turns out that she'd tried to end it all by jumping out of the window at her mums flat.  She survived with a broken leg and the left side of her face was drooping a bit but on the whole she was alive and relatively unscathed.

Anyway, for the first few days she had lots of docs and psych people visiting her and drawing curtains around her.  I have very good hearing and an uncanny knack of turning in and out of conversations so I managed to piece together her story from those conversations.  In the main she just wanted to be discharged back into her mums care but her mum did not want that to happen. She called her mum a witch and blamed her for everything - in many ways it was like viewing crazy teenage tantrums which were far worse as they had had such a dramatic and almost devastating ending.  

Her hubby didn't seem like the brightest kid on the block but he seemed to try and do all he could to make her happy.  Her mum by no means seemed perfect but she did care so that was something.
During the night the jumper was bloody annoying as she was like a whining child moaning and asking for painkillers.  In our part of the ward, her general moaning was stopping everyone from sleeping.  There was one night when the others turned on her and told her to shut the hell up.  It was about time really as she in many ways was there due her own devices and the rest of us were there for ops etc.  You could tell she wasn't used to being told off in that manner as she soon shut up.

In the end, an ambulance came by one day and she was carted off to a mental hospital nearby.

The Addict

Oh yes the craziness of the patients on my ward just went on and on.

The Scouse Addict
A recovering heroin addict on methadone who was in hospital for stomach pains - which roughly translated to she wanted a safe place to stay with warmth and 3 square meals a day. Actually on the food front we would be served 3 courses for all meals and she would always go for 2nds and large portions.

She was actually one of of the friendliest people on the ward.   She was talkative,  actually at times a bit too much and one of the few people that said hello to everybody and I mean everybody.

Being on methadone also meant that she knew her way around a drug cabinet and her rights and entitlements.  She would automatically wake up when it was time for drugs and at times chase the nurses for them.  Yes when this was in the middle of the night it was not conducive to those of us who actually wanted to sleep at night in order to get the well and get the hell out of there (me).

The other thing was that she drank so much tea.  Day, and night "can I have a cup of tea please nurse" " can I have some hot water please" as she even had her own ready supply of tea bags, milk and sugar.  Supposedly tea helps methadone get into the system quicker apparently.

She also had some kind of behavioural problems - once a thought was planted in her head she would just go on and on and on.  Oh my god believe having someone asked repeatedly for drugs or tea did get kind of annoying and at times I did scream in my head.

Patients - The Good, The Bad and the downright crazy

Well my first foray into the hospital was certainly interesting esp as I had 2 different locations on the ward during my stay.  The patients were certainly a mixed bag and in many ways the inspiration for me to write this blog - just fantastic characters to observe when there's nothing else to do as you're stuck indoors.  Here's the cast list:

The Surrey Princess
The ultimate in posh bitchiness.  She was a classic, skinny,dirty blonde, demanding - someone where only the best would do. Actually, on the 2 days that I was on the ward with her, I don't think she actually spoke to me - maybe I just didn't come across as being posh enough.  Anyway, she certainly knew her painkillers and was an expert in saying oohh no, such and such doesn't work for me, I prefer this and that one (the more expensive pills from  what I can ascertain).  This girl knew her drugs and her rights.  Her nervous disposition compounded her fear of needles and her own shadow by the looks of things meant that she wasn't the best patient when it came to getting a line put in or having bloods taken.  I have to admit it was kind of funny to watch.

She did display the ultimate example of bitchiness though. One of the other patients whose mum had flown over from Georgia as soon as her daughter was rushed into hospital arrived outside visiting hours straight from the airport. Anyway, the Surrey Princess told the nurses that it wasn't fair that her mum was there outside of the official opening hours and that she should leave.  Basically her parents had been told that they would have to wait until official opening hours to see her.

It was divine retribution though when her parents arrived early too and the other girl got to say to the nurses that that wasn't fair and they were asked to leave and come back later. She shouldn't have been a cow in the first place.  It was hard enough being in hospital as it was.

The Georgian
Apart from her run in with the Surrey Princess she seemed quite nice.  Although her and her boyfriend seemed to spend most of their time hiding behind curtains - not sure if her encounter with the princess meant that she just didn't want to have a shop window open to all on the ward.  Her mum was lovely though. Plus her mysterious boyfriend seemed nice.

The Joan Collins Esq Glamour puss
Defo my fav character that I met in hospital.  She was an old lady from a bygone area - who did her hair and put on make up just before major surgery and was chatting up the young docs (she must have been in her 80s).  She was just fabulous and had such a zest for life that it was just infectious.  Rouge, bouffant hair and powdered face.

She was Italian and lived in Highgate with her elderly brother who she helps to look after. Constantly reading Mills and Boonesque love stories and having energy and having a smile on her face. She had fractured her leg and left it for four days before coming to hospital as she thought it was nothing and didn't want to waste anyone's time.  How amazing was that and humbling. I loved chatting to her as she was fascinating and I have her number and will defo call her to make sure that she is ok.  Plus help her out I guess - once I'm fully back on my feet.

It has to be said if I'm anything like her when I'm her age with energy and spunk I'd be one happy bunny.

More about the characters in my next post .......

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.