I have woken up. It’s like waking up after a dreamless night, where someone has ripped out my innards, slightly pulling and replacing bits of me. On the finish line I am bundled together by more than 1000 stitches!
Yesterday arrived as yesterday’s often do. We had a 7am check in at the hospital. We met all the special people and doctors as well as the anethistiatist.
By 10am I was put in to my sleep of the day. Whilst I was being operated on in various different ways the rest of the world played on without me.
Well not so fast! I just remembered that in true marshian era I managed to do something remakably stupid the day before the operation. I had been to the post office to renew one of the girls British passports. I was feeling light and happy as this was something that we had tried to do for quite some time now, and this time I had managed to bring all the right papers/photos/signatures and they had accepted it all! Walking jollily out from said post office I had a mere 10 meters to walk on sidewalk before getting in to car. Well then I managed to fall face first on to the stoney pavement. Tearing both my hands in said process. Injuring the ring finger on my left hand to point of no useage.
So what does a family of five do to a mothers beaten hand on the day before her major op? Well we strapped it up fairly well with a plastic bandage. It would only have been strapped up in A&E anyway and wasting a lot of time.
As I was being monitored by my surgeons, anethistiatists and nurses we had at least 5 that said “you should have that x-rayed”. Well as we were at the hospital it was the right place for it!
After 8 hours of operations I was being woken up. I had been warned on by how hard the operations could hit me. I was promised to feel like being hit by a double decker. Another doctor said it could reminisce being hit by two double deckers. I woke up numb.
It was 6.30pm. I had a lovely Spanish nurse called Elena looking after me. She was from Galicia and as we have horses jumping in Gijon this weekend I thought this must be a good omen. Watford was playing in Man City and I was dreading the first loss of the season. But in the ICU or the high intensity unit there is no sport. No people that carry any news of sport events. It’s like ground hog day…
They did bring in x-Ray machines to take x-Rays of my chest and also to include my left ring finger.
Dan came in around 8pm only with part report of Watford game 0-2 to man city, but that was only half time. No results from any horse jumping.
It took another two very friendly nurses in the ICU to make me feel a bit more like me again.
I have this impressive gadget, I have renamed him “ghost buster” they call him “pain buster”. He basically gives you a shot of morphine when you need it! Think there is a real resealable idea. That nobody has thought of before now! Just intravenously gadget your morphine fix!
These are worlds clearly written by someone on morphine…
Better go now!