Pre-Op assessment

I have a pre-op assessment at the hospital at some point the week before. It involves the normal tests - bloods are taken, MRSA swabs done, and weight/height recorded.

Apparently, I'm a vain person when it comes to my weight. Despite seeing the sign suggesting that shoes should be left on to get on the scales, I keep trying to get around the nurse and take them off, but she isn't having any of it. I do however manage to remove my light weight linen jacket and leather belt which, in my defense has a heavy leather buckle.....

Despite my fears that the recent wine consumption has increased my waistline, I am apparently 3kg lighter than I was when I finished university 11 years ago, so there is cause for some celebration. Not passing out when I was stabbed by the nurse who clearly wasn't in the most compassionate mood is also cause for celebration.

I then have to wait to see the junior doctor, who will check my heart rate etc then go on for a chest x ray. Busy busy busy.

The junior doctor is lovely, but extremely enthusiastic - I receive a great prep talk about how fabulous my consultant is, how good the team is, how that it is so fantastic I've found the lump myself etc etc etc and that she is sure we've caught it early. I try to smile and nod, but I feel so OLD.  

I do sadly lose my composure when we start talking about GA - as I've mentioned before, they do scare me. I'm not going to volunteer to try this procedure under a local though, so I have to lump it and man up.

After blubbing all over the junior doctor I get lost on the way to the X ray department. I was given instructions which looked quite simple - turn right by the Deli to Go, go through the double doors, right out of the lift...... you get the gist. Unfortunately, if you choose the wrong set of double doors the instructions don't work as well. I eventually give up and ask for help and am eventually escourted there by a charming young orderly.

The chest X ray takes no time at all and then I am free to go, but having been shown the way in I then struggle to try and leave. Eventually I ask for directions and a lovely gentleman who has been visiting a relative helps me to "escape". His words.

In the lift on the way back down, he looks at me and says "I'm sure I've seen you on television" - clearly, he's the right demographic and I confess that he has probably seen me on Antiques Road Trip - turns out I was right, but fortunately he just quizzes me on the celebrity valuers we had on, nothing else.

Fame at last. Time to retire?