The Surgery

I checked into the hospital on the evening of July 5, 2013.  The surgery was scheduled for 8 on the following morning.

It was a long night.  Sleep conspired with the hands on the wall clock to rob me of much needed rest. Time ploughed excruciatingly towards 6 the following morning.  I was forbidden all fluid since midnight.  There is a reason for this.  Fluid is known to complicate the surgery by entering the lungs.

At precisely 7 am, I was given a bottle of surgical shower-gel and told to shower.

At 8-30 am, I was wheeled towards the Operating Theatre.  Eyes shut tight, you won't feel what you can't see.  My son and husband whispered brief encouragement which I heard between the squeals of the wheels.

Outside the Operating Theatre, (i.e. the Scrubbing Area) the anaesthetist stuck a needle into my veins explaining that it was for the drip.   She explained what it meant to be administered the General Anaesthesia and what to expect, got me to sign some papers (Let me tell you I'll sign anything at that point) and proceeded to wheel me into the Operating Theatre.  I found myself inside a well-lit and small windowless room with an overhead surgical light.  The upper section of the walls were replaced with glass but nobody stood outside to observe the surgery.  A black mask was held over my nostril and that was the last thing I remembered.

When I came to, there were two things on my mind.  First, the anaesthetist had a bad cold. Second, I was chilled to the bones and practically jabbering incoherently.  A heating device was placed on my body.  It blew hot air all over my torso and slowly, warmth returned.  I was wheeled back to the ward.

Man, it was cold!