Tea and toast

It’s an uncharacteristically early start today, and we’re at the hospital by 7.25. Day of Surgery Admissions is a hive of activity with green scrub-clad anaesthetists and surgeons going from patient to patient, nurses asking the necessarily repetitive questions - name, age, address, allergies, form after form completed  …. the list is endless. 

I have my own questions, typed out efficiently. The poor registrar tries hard to answer, relieved when my surgeon turns up. Fortunately, we generally seem to have the same concerns. 

I’m always humbled by the level of care - once you are here, within the system. The staff are just so wonderfully caring. I’m still shocked by the cold of the anaesthetic room, love the banter, hate the cannula, and feel more smothered by the mask than I remember, but the drifting out of consciousness is actually quite pleasant.  

The vacant space between that drifting off and coming back remains a mystery - and I really don’t want to even think about the indignities performed within this time warp. I’m back, piled high with warmed blankets to stop the shivering I always have post-op. Then there’s the regular checks of blood pressure, oxygen and temperature - it takes a while to get my stats up.  

Finally, it’s back to the ward and time for tea and toast - the highlight of my day, and hence the subject of today’s blip. 

My surgeon comes to see me. Biopsies taken, area explored and ‘tidied up’. I’m still a mystery and now they want to check for TB and I’m waiting for a chest X-ray and bloods - the results of which will take six weeks apparently. 

I’m not sure whether this three year mystery is finally starting to be solved or whether it is becoming even more complex. Today’s another stage in gathering yet more information and over the next month or so hopefully everything will come together and decisions will be made …. 


…. and hopefully, I’ll soon be home . 

Update - finally home by 5pm…. More tea and toast and treats thanks to G! I