(Reposted from my diary).
Good morning all, I have been back home a week so I thought now would be a good time to post an update on how things went before and after the op.
Day 1 - I arrived at Bruxelles Midi where I was met by a lovely driver who whisked me off to the very strange hotel (converted from a prison). The room was adeqaute and had air con so all was good. Fred arrived at my room around 8pm and talked me through op, he then told me to go and get myself a nice steak and a glass of wine as it would be a long time before I had the chance again. Fred then emptied my band and departed. I wandered down to the Canal restaurant and had a lovely filet Mignon and a glass of wine.
Day 2 - At 0715 I met up with a lovely couple of Irish guys and two ladies from London and we formed a fat arsed conga down to the hospital. Arrived at the hospital did the paperwork and eventually I was allocated a room sharing with Keven from Donegal. Dr Chris came over and had his ruthlessly efficient chat and then we both donned the hated gowns and submitted to the ministrations of the hairy arm pitted nurses. Eventually stockinged, shaved (I'd done this at home) and weighed we waited for the call.
At 10am a nurse arrived to wheel me down, I arrived in a kind of holding bay where I waited half an hr before Dr Chis arrived for a last minute pep talk and then I was wheeled in to theatre where Fred cracked jokes while the nurses strapped me to the table in a crucifixion pose, I asked Fred if the BDSM was obligatory but he just laughed. The anaesthetist then arrived and said that as I went under I might feel him pushing down on my throat as this was required to stop regurgitation. As I was wearing suspenders and a dress whilst strapped down in a supine crucifixion pose I did wonder if I would wake up with an orange in my mouth.
The next thing I remember was waking up in recovery and feeling very cold and a little sore but a lot better than I thought. I did notice the clock said 1230 in my fugue, after a while I was wheeled back to the ward where Dr Chris came over and said all had gone well and I just dozed off to sleep.
The rest of the day was spent between sleep and morphine while various nurses treated me as a blood piñata. At around 8pm a nurse arrived called Sabrina, she looked at my drain and began to get agitated. It transpired I had drained 3 pints of blood post surgery and my blood pressure was beginning to drop. She then started to take blood but could not find a vein, she lowered the bed and adjusted it so my stomach stretched out and it was agony I told her she was racking me and I was in pain but she just said shut up baby. I carried on complaint while she continued the bizarre Flemish torture enlivened by her making 9 attempts to draw blood leaving me feeling like a fat dartboard. Eventually as she just wouldn't listen I put the bed straight myself and told her to I was happy to be further prodded but only by anyone but her, she responded she was a midwife and shouldn't be doing this as she was overqualified. I said I didn't really care and asked her to go and stand in the car park facing a wall where she would probably be more useful (I'm never normally this rude, and all the nurses were brilliant, except her) she then wondered off in a huff to get another nurse.
A normal nurse who was not a skilled water boarder then arrived and tried to get blood and succeeded first time, she was also worried about the blood and started making phone calls. It becomes a bit of a blur from here on in but as she was on the phone I was suddenly whisked down the corridor by 3 nurses jabbering excitedly in Flemish and wheeled into intensive care. Immediately I was what I can only describe as gang medicated, repeatedly. Simultaneously nurses did my ECG, blood pressure, inserted a catheter down my snakes eye, a catheter in my neck (the only way they could get blood) and another catheter in my wrist. As all this was going on they called my next of kin (by this stage I started to worry). The blood pressure machine then went wild and they began to look worried and I slowly started to slip off to sleep, moments late Dr Chris arrived like a white night and took control. He put stiches in my drain port and asked me what medicines I had taken in the last 2 weeks, I said I had only taken Asprin but that was 9 days ago, his eyes lit up he ordered some anti Asprin meds to be given and everyone calmed down.
Day 3 - Woke up in ICU around 7am feeling a little better but very tired as I had been woken every 30 minutes for various tests and samples. I was checked and watched till 1300 when Dr Chris arrived and pronounced me fit to go back to the ward. The nurse then pulled what appeared to be a party balloon out of the end of my winkle and I was wheeled back to my room. I was met by a very worried Irishman (Kevin) who's concern was palpable, we chatted for a while and I tried to sleep, this was difficult as I still had the tubes hanging out of my neck and arms so comfort was difficult, it was also hard to sleep as Kevin liked to play Donegal FM on his phone whilst watching back to back programs about Alaskan gold miners. At about about 7pm Sabrina the teenage ***** arrived with Fred and they asked how I was, Fred apologised for her behaviour and I said no problem we all have bad days, I then tried to engage with Sabrina by chatting about gold mining and the price of carpets in Donegal (subject I am now expert I ) this didn't really work so I tried to sleep. I couldn't get off so asked Sabrina for a sleeping tablet and she said no she didn't like people to have sleeping tablets. Eventually around 2300 she flew back to her lair and the nice nurse with the upholstered armpits arrived and gave me and Kevin sleeping tablets and off to sleep we went.
Day 4 - Woke up at around 6am to the sounds of paddy FM and the clank of mining machinery, felt better but sore, the bleeding had calmed and then a bit later water, and food arrived and I tucked in, the rest is pretty standard checks from Chris and the nurses and declared good. I was told as a "bleeder" I would not need the stockings or injections when I left. The drain was pulled out (not as painful as expected more of a pulling sensation) the tethers were removed from my neck, Dr Chris gave us a final warning and pep talk and then back to the hotel for around 1300. I filched and armful of a timely at the hotel and then went to sleep, at around 8pm Fred turned up and changed my dressing as I was oozing (not bleeding) and gave me a load of dressing if needed, Fred also said if oozing got worse I was to either walk hospital, phone him or phone taxi to hospital depending on ooze.
Day 5 - woke feeling a lot better and ooze had calmed right down, day was spent relaxing and I chanced a little walk into vilvoorde and had a cup of tea in a cafe. I the. Went back to hotel to meet Fred at 4pm who changed dressing again and then off to sleep.
Day 6 - Met the car at 11 and whisked off to Eurostar, nice journey back changed at London and back home to Bristol for 6pm where I have relaxed ever since.
On reflection an eventful week but I have no regrets, there were issues but I think it highlights the benefits of using Dr Chris. Had I encountered issues of intensive care proportions at a private clinic I would have been whisked via taxi or ambulance to a NHS hospital. As it was I was just wheeled down the corridor as all facilities were on hand, a benefit to my mind.
After the first week I am 17lbs down and feeling pretty good, sorry it's so long winded but I find the act of documenting my experiences very cathartic and it's good to get it down for future reading before my memories blur.
Thanks to everyone on here for your support before and after, the information and emotion crutch it provided was invaluable.
Good morning all, I have been back home a week so I thought now would be a good time to post an update on how things went before and after the op.
Day 1 - I arrived at Bruxelles Midi where I was met by a lovely driver who whisked me off to the very strange hotel (converted from a prison). The room was adeqaute and had air con so all was good. Fred arrived at my room around 8pm and talked me through op, he then told me to go and get myself a nice steak and a glass of wine as it would be a long time before I had the chance again. Fred then emptied my band and departed. I wandered down to the Canal restaurant and had a lovely filet Mignon and a glass of wine.
Day 2 - At 0715 I met up with a lovely couple of Irish guys and two ladies from London and we formed a fat arsed conga down to the hospital. Arrived at the hospital did the paperwork and eventually I was allocated a room sharing with Keven from Donegal. Dr Chris came over and had his ruthlessly efficient chat and then we both donned the hated gowns and submitted to the ministrations of the hairy arm pitted nurses. Eventually stockinged, shaved (I'd done this at home) and weighed we waited for the call.
At 10am a nurse arrived to wheel me down, I arrived in a kind of holding bay where I waited half an hr before Dr Chis arrived for a last minute pep talk and then I was wheeled in to theatre where Fred cracked jokes while the nurses strapped me to the table in a crucifixion pose, I asked Fred if the BDSM was obligatory but he just laughed. The anaesthetist then arrived and said that as I went under I might feel him pushing down on my throat as this was required to stop regurgitation. As I was wearing suspenders and a dress whilst strapped down in a supine crucifixion pose I did wonder if I would wake up with an orange in my mouth.
The next thing I remember was waking up in recovery and feeling very cold and a little sore but a lot better than I thought. I did notice the clock said 1230 in my fugue, after a while I was wheeled back to the ward where Dr Chris came over and said all had gone well and I just dozed off to sleep.
The rest of the day was spent between sleep and morphine while various nurses treated me as a blood piñata. At around 8pm a nurse arrived called Sabrina, she looked at my drain and began to get agitated. It transpired I had drained 3 pints of blood post surgery and my blood pressure was beginning to drop. She then started to take blood but could not find a vein, she lowered the bed and adjusted it so my stomach stretched out and it was agony I told her she was racking me and I was in pain but she just said shut up baby. I carried on complaint while she continued the bizarre Flemish torture enlivened by her making 9 attempts to draw blood leaving me feeling like a fat dartboard. Eventually as she just wouldn't listen I put the bed straight myself and told her to I was happy to be further prodded but only by anyone but her, she responded she was a midwife and shouldn't be doing this as she was overqualified. I said I didn't really care and asked her to go and stand in the car park facing a wall where she would probably be more useful (I'm never normally this rude, and all the nurses were brilliant, except her) she then wondered off in a huff to get another nurse.
A normal nurse who was not a skilled water boarder then arrived and tried to get blood and succeeded first time, she was also worried about the blood and started making phone calls. It becomes a bit of a blur from here on in but as she was on the phone I was suddenly whisked down the corridor by 3 nurses jabbering excitedly in Flemish and wheeled into intensive care. Immediately I was what I can only describe as gang medicated, repeatedly. Simultaneously nurses did my ECG, blood pressure, inserted a catheter down my snakes eye, a catheter in my neck (the only way they could get blood) and another catheter in my wrist. As all this was going on they called my next of kin (by this stage I started to worry). The blood pressure machine then went wild and they began to look worried and I slowly started to slip off to sleep, moments late Dr Chris arrived like a white night and took control. He put stiches in my drain port and asked me what medicines I had taken in the last 2 weeks, I said I had only taken Asprin but that was 9 days ago, his eyes lit up he ordered some anti Asprin meds to be given and everyone calmed down.
Day 3 - Woke up in ICU around 7am feeling a little better but very tired as I had been woken every 30 minutes for various tests and samples. I was checked and watched till 1300 when Dr Chris arrived and pronounced me fit to go back to the ward. The nurse then pulled what appeared to be a party balloon out of the end of my winkle and I was wheeled back to my room. I was met by a very worried Irishman (Kevin) who's concern was palpable, we chatted for a while and I tried to sleep, this was difficult as I still had the tubes hanging out of my neck and arms so comfort was difficult, it was also hard to sleep as Kevin liked to play Donegal FM on his phone whilst watching back to back programs about Alaskan gold miners. At about about 7pm Sabrina the teenage ***** arrived with Fred and they asked how I was, Fred apologised for her behaviour and I said no problem we all have bad days, I then tried to engage with Sabrina by chatting about gold mining and the price of carpets in Donegal (subject I am now expert I ) this didn't really work so I tried to sleep. I couldn't get off so asked Sabrina for a sleeping tablet and she said no she didn't like people to have sleeping tablets. Eventually around 2300 she flew back to her lair and the nice nurse with the upholstered armpits arrived and gave me and Kevin sleeping tablets and off to sleep we went.
Day 4 - Woke up at around 6am to the sounds of paddy FM and the clank of mining machinery, felt better but sore, the bleeding had calmed and then a bit later water, and food arrived and I tucked in, the rest is pretty standard checks from Chris and the nurses and declared good. I was told as a "bleeder" I would not need the stockings or injections when I left. The drain was pulled out (not as painful as expected more of a pulling sensation) the tethers were removed from my neck, Dr Chris gave us a final warning and pep talk and then back to the hotel for around 1300. I filched and armful of a timely at the hotel and then went to sleep, at around 8pm Fred turned up and changed my dressing as I was oozing (not bleeding) and gave me a load of dressing if needed, Fred also said if oozing got worse I was to either walk hospital, phone him or phone taxi to hospital depending on ooze.
Day 5 - woke feeling a lot better and ooze had calmed right down, day was spent relaxing and I chanced a little walk into vilvoorde and had a cup of tea in a cafe. I the. Went back to hotel to meet Fred at 4pm who changed dressing again and then off to sleep.
Day 6 - Met the car at 11 and whisked off to Eurostar, nice journey back changed at London and back home to Bristol for 6pm where I have relaxed ever since.
On reflection an eventful week but I have no regrets, there were issues but I think it highlights the benefits of using Dr Chris. Had I encountered issues of intensive care proportions at a private clinic I would have been whisked via taxi or ambulance to a NHS hospital. As it was I was just wheeled down the corridor as all facilities were on hand, a benefit to my mind.
After the first week I am 17lbs down and feeling pretty good, sorry it's so long winded but I find the act of documenting my experiences very cathartic and it's good to get it down for future reading before my memories blur.
Thanks to everyone on here for your support before and after, the information and emotion crutch it provided was invaluable.
