Bearing in mind the smallest (who clearly knows that something is going on), wakes at this time on most days you would I think I'd be used to it? Hell no. I am not, nor will I ever be a morning person.
And it's dark outside, despite the fact it's only the end of August. So no quick walk for me to clear my head.
I'm allowed clear liquids until 5am so down a couple of pints of water and put Fireman Sam on to cheer the youngest up.
It's all fairly mundane at this stage. Shower, wash hair, dry hair, apply make up, take make up off as I'm not allowed to wear it today, get dressed..... etc etc etc. We're all a bit on edge which is not really that surprising.
Hospital bag by the back door I laugh to myself - last time I had a hospital bag by the door I was in labour. A totally different removal process to what is going to happen today.
6am. Anaesthetic cream (Emla) goes on. It's needed because I'm having a Sentinel Lymph Node test which involves injecting a radioactive dye into the nipple/breast area and seeing how far along the lymphatic system it travels. After I plaster myself in cream, I have to try and put a sterile plastic wrapper over my breast. It is not as easy as it sounds. It's like trying to use clingfilm in a force 10 gale. I complately fail the first time - just as well they gave me two. Second time lucky and thank frick it works. I don't fancy being injected without it.
We take our son to find the in-laws and say a hasty and slightly teary goodbye. Off to the hospital we go.
I'm not sure how long my husband is going to be able to wait with me - they don't like too many family members in the waiting room as it gets really busy, but he comes in to get me settled. We enter the Same Day Admissions Unit (SDAU) and I'm checked in. Apparently I'm second on the list today, which is a relief - hopefully this should mean I'm done by lunchtime so I will definitely get home today.
It is weird in the waiting room. I hope that everyone is as nosy as me and trying to work out who is in for what.
After only about 45 mins the anaesthetist comes to meet me. The long awaited Mr Sharp.He sounds just like Morgan Freeman and very quickly puts me at my ease. I confess my fear of a GA - he tells me that he only does locals for this procedure on the really old and crusty patients and I don't come under that category. First compliment of the day!
He's also impressed by the fact that the junior doctor at my pre-op assessment took my blood pressure, heart rate etc. Usually they are too lazy! He takes everything again just to be sure.
All done, so we go back to the waiting room by are accosted by another junior doctor who is waiting in the corridor for me. How nice to be popular!
Another brief chat - basically he just wants to confirm that I know why I am there, and confident that between us we're still sure I'm having my right breast removed he takes a marker pen and draws a directional arrow to said breast. Hopefully it isn't permanent! I'm not going to see Mr Pain until just before the op, but I am assured he'll have had his morning coffee by then....
From what I can tell, the Emla cream has not made everything numb yet - frankly I was hoping for even less sensation. Jnr doctor (who is fairly easy on the eye) assures me it will start to work soon, but also that the injection is painless anyway. On the basis I am envisaging a huge Dr Frankenstein style syringe filled with bright yellow liquid I am not convinced.
Finally, I sign my paperwork, in triplicate and some other forms relating to a Sentimag test - this is basically a new trial method for the Sentinel Lymph Node test, but with different stuff. More signatures in triplicate.
Have you watched "Father Ted"? All these signatures and queries to ensure I know I'm having done is a bit like the housekeeper on Father Ted asking whether anyone would like a cup of tea......"are you sure, are you sure, are you really really sure that you want a
In my head, I'm saying "no no no no no no no, but then I don't want cancer either...." I just smile and nod.
We go back to the waiting room, but find it is totally packed now, so it looks like time to say goodbye to my darling husband. I'm normally a big wuss, but held back my tears as we parted company. It looks like I'm getting stronger in my old age.
Just as soon as he goes, Jnr doctor comes back with more Emla cream so I whizz off to the bathroom and put some more on. Apparently I'm becoming a dab hand at these dodgy plasters. It's good to learn new skills!
No comments:
Post a Comment