chris2710
New Member
I was told to report to the hospital (L&D) at 7am on Thursday 23 February. As the journey is 100 miles each way we left home at 4.30am incase there were any problems on route. Anyway we had a smooth journey and reached the hospital at 6.30. Due to the earliness of the hour the waiting list office where we had been instructed to go to wasn't open yet so we settled down for a half hour wait. By the time 7 came there was quite a lot of people waiting, normally I would take a back seat and wait but the speed I reached that counter when they opened the shutters was something to behold. Anyway from there we were told to go to arrivals, which we duly did and reported in. Shortly after a nurse came and took me into an office, she said that she wasn't sure why I had been asked to report at 7 as I was second on the list and that normally I wouldn't have been asked in until 9. Anyway we worked our way through a form, general information, history, etc, quite a long questionnaire though, was also asked to confirm that it was my signature on the consent form, (this was something I was asked more than once through the proceedure). I was also weighed. Due to the distance to the hospital I hadn't had my second lot of blood tests so she said she would arrange for someone to come and take samples, and then sent me back to the waiting area. Sometime later I was then taken back into an examination room for my blood tests, I'm not sure if this was the way he normally took blood or whether it for another reason, but I have never before had blood taken this way, instead of syrienge (sp) he extracted the blood using a needle and long plastic tube emptying the blood into a container which he then transferred into the normal vial. After a very long wait a nurse came down to collect me for my op. I kissed my husband goodbye and followed the nurse and my bag through the corridors. I was shown into a changing room and given a gown and told to undress and put the gown on with the stockings that I had been given earlier, and to top these of with my dressing gown and slippers and then to give my bag in for safe keeping. At this point I will add that I was told that I could keep my knickers on and that when I came to they were still in place. After getting changed I went back to the desk, when I was directed by a doctor to go behind a screened off area, he had a quick look at my stomach asked a few questions and then directed me back to the nurse, she asked a few more questions and filled in a few more details on the form and then shortly after led me into the operating theatre. I climbed onto the table and was greeted by the anaesthetist and her team, they were very kind and put me at my ease.
I remember coming round in a fair amount of pain and feeling a bit sick, I pumped at the morphine pump like there was no tomorrow, but it was pointed out to me that it would only work once every five minutes and I had to actually wait for it to take effect. They can measure how this pump was used and I was told after that I had tried for 101 hits with 40 succeeding, the majority of these within first coming to. It gets a bit fuzzy now but I was pushed down to the wards together with my drip stand and morphine. I formed a love/hate relationship with this drip stand but at this point it was my best friend, more about this relationship later.
I slept for a while after this and then awoke with a desire for a wee. I was given the choice of a commode or walking to the toilet, remembering past advice from others to move as soon as possible I opted for the walk. The nurse walked me to the toilet, telling me to use the disabled one as it would be the only one that I would be able to get the drip stand into with me. Bit of a performance as my movements were restricted by the cannula and tubing to the stand, felt a bit like a child on a leading rein, took several movements to move from loo to wash basin & soap to papertowels and then to bin and to finally get out of the door, I was exhausted after going through this proceedure. I very slowly made my way back to my ward and bed. Half way into the ward I realised that my husband was waiting there for me. He told me later that I was white as a sheet and had really frightened him at this point, but me, I was just feeling really chuffed with my achievement though eager to get back to bed. Andy just stayed a short while and although I was glad to see him I was also glad to see him go so that I could go back to sleep for a while. At some point during the afternoon I had a visit from Mr Barecca and his team, they seemed pleased with me and the way the operation had gone, though I got a look from Mr Barecca that spoke volumes because i was sitting with my ankles crossed
The rest of the afternoon evening was spent dozing with the occasional shot of morphine. Andy reappeared again for the evening's visiting hour and this time stayed a bit longer. After Andy went I visited the loo again and then settled myself down for the night. I was continually visited by nursing staff taking obs and blood sugars but because of the amount of anaesthethic in my system I just followed their instructions and then fell back asleep.
Then my drip stand decided to act up!!!!!!!!!!! As well as the morphine pump I was also hooked up to bags of fluid etc and somewhere in the system a leak developed. The first thing was that the alarm went off, a continual and loud bleep, so nursing staff were contually having to come and reset it, I could cope with the bleeping noise, as could most of the other patients except this one woman who as soon as she heard the first bleep continually cried out 'nurse, nurse' in a very gutteral voice and disturbed everyone. This woman was Iranian and I don't know if it is cultural but she looked down on the nurses and treated them as menials, refusing to say please or thank you or to be at all pleasant to them, until she was told by the sister that if she didn't improve her manners they would refuse to treat her. Anyway back to my drip stand, and its alarm call, I also realised that where my hand had been resting on the bed there was now a definite feeling of damp on the covers, the sheet and the gown I was wearing. Thankfully I was still drowsy enough for this not to affect my sleeping too badly, though I do remember that at one point they were moping up the floor area near the bed.
I woke about 6.30 in the morning and decided I had had enough if laying in a dampened bed and after another visit to the loo settled in the chair feeling quite happy. I meant to say I had long since stopped using the morphine pump, in fact the last two bursts had been more for my hand where they had inserted the cannuala rather than my stomach. Because the alarm had been going off constantly on my drip stand the battery pack had run out so by now I was plugged into the mains, which imprisioned me further, I lost count of the number of times I would set out only to realise that I hadn't unplugged the machine and then off course the alarm would start again (thankfully quieter now) as it was low on power. This also resulted in me continually getting tangled up and shortening the tube between me and and the stand until I only had a few inches movement. I was really getting to hate this machine by this point.
A very kind and caring lady came and changed my bed and gave me a bowl of water to have a wash and I then climbed back onto the bed where I was once again visited by one of Mr Barecca's team, he asked a few questions as to how I was feeling etc and said that if Mr Barecca agreed when he came round later in the day that he could see no reason why I couldn't go home that day, and that I was to now start having liquids and that I was to try drinking both cold water and have a hot drink later. As I only had those sponge things with water I was more than happy at the prospect. A little nervously I tried my first sip, waited tried another, success!!! By the time Mr Barecca came round during the afternoon I had drunk most of the jug of water, except for the cupful I tipped on the floor when I was trying to get myself untangled from my tubes, and a cup of tea. Mr Barecca came during the visiting period and had no hesitation in saying I could go home. To be honest my first thought thank god I can get rid of this drip machine and asked Andy to go and ask a nurse to release me from it. But unfortunately no one was available and we had to wait a further hour and a quarter, my hatred for this machine growing and growing. Eventually I gained my freedom and with a dose of paracitamol (sp) only my second for the day, we said our farewells and happily left. Andy fetched the car and picked me up at the door, I settled in with my pillow and made the journey home. I thank all those who advised using a pillow it was so comforting and despite the length of the journey I felt next to no discomfort, except for a short burst of heartburn.
After making a few phonecalls and texts to keep everyone up to date I retired to bed. I had a somewhat unsettled night due to heartburn and finished up taking a few walks round the house trying to shift it. When I woke Saturday morning, I didn't feel very good at all, it was only heartburn but what heartburn, I had griping pain and my whole body from neck to lower back ached. I somehow managed to get through the day, I only felt up to taking clear liquids and found it quite difficult to drink the required 1.5 litres. Mind with amount of medication I had to take, including doses of Gaviscon, I felt like I'd had a meal. Always in the past I've just thrown medication down without water, now I found I had to take each tablet individually with a small amount of water and take a break between each tablet.
Now this morning I woke up and the heart burn seems to have passed and I really feel good. I had half a slimfast for breakfast, that was a bit thick and cloying, a small glass of milk, mid morning and a small portion of soup and a petit filous for lunch, the petit filous was delicious, the soup and milk ok. Everything has stayed with me so far and at present I'm feeling quite optimistic. I've arranged a walk round the block with my husband for tomorrow and today I'm having a pyjama day.
I meant to say I left the hospital with 2 weeks of anti clotting injections, iron tablets and fast tabs. I was given a B12 injection in hospital. I also found out from my letter, that I now have a 30cc gastric pouch, 120cm less intestine and my liver was well shrunken. I also discovered that in fact Mr Barecca didn't actually do my surgery, he was 'unscrubbed but present in theatre, The actual operating surgeon was Mr A Warsi and he was assisted by Farhan Rashid (I met him at my pre-op) and Feb Terrado, who I'm not sure but I think it might have been him that that took my blood earlier in the day. Either way I'm perfectly happy with their attentions.
This has proven to be a very long discription I only hope you didn't get too bored reading it all.
I remember coming round in a fair amount of pain and feeling a bit sick, I pumped at the morphine pump like there was no tomorrow, but it was pointed out to me that it would only work once every five minutes and I had to actually wait for it to take effect. They can measure how this pump was used and I was told after that I had tried for 101 hits with 40 succeeding, the majority of these within first coming to. It gets a bit fuzzy now but I was pushed down to the wards together with my drip stand and morphine. I formed a love/hate relationship with this drip stand but at this point it was my best friend, more about this relationship later.
I slept for a while after this and then awoke with a desire for a wee. I was given the choice of a commode or walking to the toilet, remembering past advice from others to move as soon as possible I opted for the walk. The nurse walked me to the toilet, telling me to use the disabled one as it would be the only one that I would be able to get the drip stand into with me. Bit of a performance as my movements were restricted by the cannula and tubing to the stand, felt a bit like a child on a leading rein, took several movements to move from loo to wash basin & soap to papertowels and then to bin and to finally get out of the door, I was exhausted after going through this proceedure. I very slowly made my way back to my ward and bed. Half way into the ward I realised that my husband was waiting there for me. He told me later that I was white as a sheet and had really frightened him at this point, but me, I was just feeling really chuffed with my achievement though eager to get back to bed. Andy just stayed a short while and although I was glad to see him I was also glad to see him go so that I could go back to sleep for a while. At some point during the afternoon I had a visit from Mr Barecca and his team, they seemed pleased with me and the way the operation had gone, though I got a look from Mr Barecca that spoke volumes because i was sitting with my ankles crossed
The rest of the afternoon evening was spent dozing with the occasional shot of morphine. Andy reappeared again for the evening's visiting hour and this time stayed a bit longer. After Andy went I visited the loo again and then settled myself down for the night. I was continually visited by nursing staff taking obs and blood sugars but because of the amount of anaesthethic in my system I just followed their instructions and then fell back asleep. Then my drip stand decided to act up!!!!!!!!!!! As well as the morphine pump I was also hooked up to bags of fluid etc and somewhere in the system a leak developed. The first thing was that the alarm went off, a continual and loud bleep, so nursing staff were contually having to come and reset it, I could cope with the bleeping noise, as could most of the other patients except this one woman who as soon as she heard the first bleep continually cried out 'nurse, nurse' in a very gutteral voice and disturbed everyone. This woman was Iranian and I don't know if it is cultural but she looked down on the nurses and treated them as menials, refusing to say please or thank you or to be at all pleasant to them, until she was told by the sister that if she didn't improve her manners they would refuse to treat her. Anyway back to my drip stand, and its alarm call, I also realised that where my hand had been resting on the bed there was now a definite feeling of damp on the covers, the sheet and the gown I was wearing. Thankfully I was still drowsy enough for this not to affect my sleeping too badly, though I do remember that at one point they were moping up the floor area near the bed.
I woke about 6.30 in the morning and decided I had had enough if laying in a dampened bed and after another visit to the loo settled in the chair feeling quite happy. I meant to say I had long since stopped using the morphine pump, in fact the last two bursts had been more for my hand where they had inserted the cannuala rather than my stomach. Because the alarm had been going off constantly on my drip stand the battery pack had run out so by now I was plugged into the mains, which imprisioned me further, I lost count of the number of times I would set out only to realise that I hadn't unplugged the machine and then off course the alarm would start again (thankfully quieter now) as it was low on power. This also resulted in me continually getting tangled up and shortening the tube between me and and the stand until I only had a few inches movement. I was really getting to hate this machine by this point.
A very kind and caring lady came and changed my bed and gave me a bowl of water to have a wash and I then climbed back onto the bed where I was once again visited by one of Mr Barecca's team, he asked a few questions as to how I was feeling etc and said that if Mr Barecca agreed when he came round later in the day that he could see no reason why I couldn't go home that day, and that I was to now start having liquids and that I was to try drinking both cold water and have a hot drink later. As I only had those sponge things with water I was more than happy at the prospect. A little nervously I tried my first sip, waited tried another, success!!! By the time Mr Barecca came round during the afternoon I had drunk most of the jug of water, except for the cupful I tipped on the floor when I was trying to get myself untangled from my tubes, and a cup of tea. Mr Barecca came during the visiting period and had no hesitation in saying I could go home. To be honest my first thought thank god I can get rid of this drip machine and asked Andy to go and ask a nurse to release me from it. But unfortunately no one was available and we had to wait a further hour and a quarter, my hatred for this machine growing and growing. Eventually I gained my freedom and with a dose of paracitamol (sp) only my second for the day, we said our farewells and happily left. Andy fetched the car and picked me up at the door, I settled in with my pillow and made the journey home. I thank all those who advised using a pillow it was so comforting and despite the length of the journey I felt next to no discomfort, except for a short burst of heartburn.
After making a few phonecalls and texts to keep everyone up to date I retired to bed. I had a somewhat unsettled night due to heartburn and finished up taking a few walks round the house trying to shift it. When I woke Saturday morning, I didn't feel very good at all, it was only heartburn but what heartburn, I had griping pain and my whole body from neck to lower back ached. I somehow managed to get through the day, I only felt up to taking clear liquids and found it quite difficult to drink the required 1.5 litres. Mind with amount of medication I had to take, including doses of Gaviscon, I felt like I'd had a meal. Always in the past I've just thrown medication down without water, now I found I had to take each tablet individually with a small amount of water and take a break between each tablet.
Now this morning I woke up and the heart burn seems to have passed and I really feel good. I had half a slimfast for breakfast, that was a bit thick and cloying, a small glass of milk, mid morning and a small portion of soup and a petit filous for lunch, the petit filous was delicious, the soup and milk ok. Everything has stayed with me so far and at present I'm feeling quite optimistic. I've arranged a walk round the block with my husband for tomorrow and today I'm having a pyjama day.
I meant to say I left the hospital with 2 weeks of anti clotting injections, iron tablets and fast tabs. I was given a B12 injection in hospital. I also found out from my letter, that I now have a 30cc gastric pouch, 120cm less intestine and my liver was well shrunken. I also discovered that in fact Mr Barecca didn't actually do my surgery, he was 'unscrubbed but present in theatre, The actual operating surgeon was Mr A Warsi and he was assisted by Farhan Rashid (I met him at my pre-op) and Feb Terrado, who I'm not sure but I think it might have been him that that took my blood earlier in the day. Either way I'm perfectly happy with their attentions.
This has proven to be a very long discription I only hope you didn't get too bored reading it all.
