I watched the videos and was quite excited to get to watch it in real life. As I said to the nurse in pre op this wasn't the kind of thing that worried me.
I'd had an intrusive camera in most entrances/exits of the body and from the video it seemed a small one.
I talked through the procedure with the nurse and I got a gold star for paying attention. I then got corrected by the surgeon for being too smug as he explained in much more technical terms. I said, wow, that's even more fascinating. I had to keep reminding myself not to enjoy it so much as I got wheeled through.
It's a big team and a big room. I asked for the stone roses or the banana album, but I'd settle for Berlin or the third Deadbeat compilation tape. Sadly we got a WiFi signal malfunction and had a mundane musical mixture.
First up was a quick look to see where my liver stopped and a gap to my stomach began. Good luck with that I thought but with less than 100 units in 2 months it was surprisingly easier for a target site to be found. Next up the spray and wire.
The most painful, and that is moot, as it was more of a surprise, was the clear nostril that took the banana spray.
The surgeon was so accurate and the nostril so clear of mucus that it went right down my throat. Like a shot I had in Newcastle once upon a time. That was a tear maker shaker.
I assumed the position, on my side with my shoulders forward and square but my arm trailing to let the X-ray machine do it's stuff.
Swallow swallow swallow, yep, that's it in and hooray, let's tape and prepare.
Next up the ballooning of the belly and then the two incisions to staple the stomach to the skin wall. Wheech out the wire. Then drill a hole for the tube, blow up the tube's balloon with water. Tidy site up and cover.
I still had 5 minutes left to survey all the pictures of the job and to thank the team for such an inside track. Superb work and done so quickly. I was back up in the ward, about 200m away via long halls and lifts in no time. I'm glad I wasn't trying to catch a plane at Stansted as it's the only comparison I could make with the porters. Imagine pushing me uphill on a non motorised trolley, or prevent me rolling away from you going downhill. I'm reliably informed Gordon lost the pram when I was only a 3 stone baby on tempeland road so the larger 61 year old me was a big ask. 3pm I'm texting and sleeping, oblivious to how easy a successful procedure could hit a landmine.
By 6pm a bit of pain relief and then off to the ward. Ouch. That's when it happened. I still don't know if it was me stretching to pull my bag in, a speed bump in the corridor or moving a boot but somehow the wound took a direct hit and I was swearing like a loud sweaty sweary thing. I was close to passing out and I thought, stay awake, while the rest of me was, why to feel this pain, let it go, you stupid smug git, no laughing now pal eh. The porters stopped shouted up to the nursing staff, moved me back and I had 5 more hours for it to settle down. It didn't. Oh, and now I couldn't laugh anyway as it was agony laughing.
I eventually moved but it was terrible. I lay all night drinking the morphine but the relief lasted less than 30 mins.
By the morning the docs had a look and said yeah, another night and see how you are. A wee tad tender, thought I.
That's where I'm at now. A wee tad tender but I've got my pals codeine and paracetamol. I've also got a bottle of morphine but it didn't seem too long lasting so I'll save it for the weekend, when I hope to get back out walking.
Yesterday I had all the nutritional stuff and speech therapy which was great. I flushed my tube all by myself and learned the on off switches.
I also got some wind put yesterday which was a huge bonus. Tube wearers of the world are united on this but laughing is a big no no.
Me and my new pal, tube who is the perfect cousin have been chatting away and once the stitches come out I think it will ease off significantly.
In the meantime I'll walk the streets of Oswald and south Oswald road waving my stick at all these young folk who come too close.
Mind you the farts I'm letting out at the moment are so loud you'd need your Sony Walkman on at full volume not to hear me coming.
And then came Saturday morning. Yes the weekend. I slept like a baby until 2:40am. It was a deep dihydrocodeine coma kind of sleep.
Once I woke I got up had some Weetabix and jogged around the flat like I was in Andy type auditions for little Britain.
At 4am I went back to sleep and designed something to replace the nylon string vest thingy. By 8am I was admiring myself.
No doubt the moobs are shrinking but the old Camino shreddies have been converted into a skin soft Bamboo tube hold all.
I made the coffee, had more Weetabix wondered about the general madness I see everywhere and then remembered it's all material, or even immaterial. Thanks again for the many what's app messages. My energy seems to rise and collapse randomly so if you get a thumbs up or no response I've probably just taken something for the pain again.
So back in bed, tube flushed with sterile water, rotated 360° and now I'm in bed.
Stitches out on Monday. I'll hopefully get a stroll in the afternoon. I really enjoyed walking out yesterday even for just a few steps, but I'm also partial to a long lie so that's pretty cheering too.
What was so funny last night was Jackie had a bottle of at Nicolas de Bourgeuil. It was one of her favourite reds, her only one until I introduced.her to the light Mencia in Bierzo and Leon.
I could smell it in the bathroom. I know you're all laughing that I could sniff out a bottle of red in a nuclear holocaust but I kid you not it was like it was under my nose. I'm potentially due to lose these taste sensations which is why I mention it. It's a diary note for me, remember when. It was hysterical though whenever I shouted, "is that you having another glass?" Pot, kettle..... Please complete the sentence.
Today brought other great news. The beetroot worked it's magic. I have spare sachets if anyone is a bit bunged up. My tubes from top to toe are as clear as the queues to get back into Summerhall.
Summerhall is a venue used during the festival. I enjoy a pint of Barney's there but it can get very busy at festival time. When I head along on Tuesday for a pint I'm sure I'll be one of about 3 not 333.
Enjoy your weekend wherever you are.
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