Monday 17 July 2017

The Operation

Rob drove me to East Surrey hospital and we arrived at 7am. Just as we were checking me in to reception, I was called by a nurse to register me. She went through various questions like allergies, got me to sign a consent form, measured me for my lovely anti-DVT stockings, took my blood pressure and got me to wee into a cup.

Then I met with the two surgeons (I had met one of them at the gynae appointment just 11 days ago) who explained the whole procedure to me. I found out the official name for my op is a bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy which is where they remove both your Fallopian tubes and ovaries. My surgery was scheduled to be laparoscopic (aka keyhole) but they did warn me that if anything went awry (bowel damage or anything unforeseen) it would need to become open surgery. The surgeons explained that they would make two cuts in my abdomen and one in my belly button. They would then put a tiny camera in one of the incisions and do the surgery through the other holes. The camera would transmit an image onto a big screen in the theatre for them to work from. They take the ovaries by almost putting them in a fishing net and then pulling them out through each incision. Then they would stitch up the holes using dissolvable stitches and that would be that. Christ.



Next stop I met the anaesthetist who explained to me how that would work, I've had two GAs before so I'm used to the procedure, but I told her I had shite veins and also I was sick both times before when I came round from the GA so she noted that and said she would make sure that I would be given an anti-emetic.

Then I was sent back to the waiting room and was told I was due in third so could expect to be waiting until about 11am. Rob and I waited for about forty minutes and then at 09:10 I was called for the op. Rob and a nurse walked me to the pre-op waiting room, Rob had to leave me here. Through tears I kissed him and he left.

I went into the pre-op ward, gave my details and I then had to change into a gown, take out my contact lenses and put my lovely stockings on. It was then that I fully burst into tears as the realisation of the imminent op hit me. The nurse there was lovely and chatted to me for a bit and then an anaesthetist came and wheeled my bed through to the anaesthetic room. There the anaesthetist that I'd met earlier put a cannula in my hand, asked me what job Rob did, what I did, about Denbies (!) and the next thing I knew I was waking up on the immediate recovery ward.

My throat hurt like anything from the tube being down there and my right arm was incredibly sore. I felt nauseous so they gave me the anti-sickness drug straight away and then little sips of water. I vaguely remember people speaking to me and one of the surgeons telling me everything had gone well. After some time passed, I have no idea how much because I was in and out of being with it, I was taken to the main recovery ward. I asked them for my glasses because not being able to see was just compounding my confusion.

On the recovery ward I felt very groggy and my stomach was rock hard. In order to access everything during the op, they fill your abdomen with air, the only way to get over this is to apparently fart as much as I can over the next few days! My arm was feeling more and more painful and then the anaesthetist came to see me. Apparently during surgery my veins weren't playing ball so they moved the cannula to my wrist, which subsequently leaked into my veins! So my poor veins are bruised inside.

The ward sister then offered me tea and a sandwich, but where my throat hurt so much, I just wanted something really soft, so they brought me a jelly. I managed the jelly and then Rob appeared! I was so happy to see him. I hadn't realised but I had actually been in surgery longer than expected, it's supposed to take about an hour but mine was more like 2. Rob had been waiting at home for the phone call to come and get me and as almost 4 hours had passed (including my time on the ward) and he'd still not had a call he just turned up. Then my Mum appeared too and I cried. I wasn't allowed to leave until I'd been to the toilet so once I'd passed urine I could go. Mum and Rob helped me get dressed, Mum brushed my hair and then I hobbled to the car.

Rob drove home very carefully, dropping Mum at CH station to get her car. He helped me up the stairs and I got in to bed. I had mashed potato and baked beans for dinner and don't really remember much more of the evening other than my arm being unbelievably sore and my stomach being rock hard.

Another step done, goodbye cancer fuel.


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