Yesterday was long, stressful and slightly emotional.  I went into hospital for some plastic surgery on my ear as I had a tumour growing and it was blocking the hearing in that ear by 50%. 

My day began around 6.30 with a coffee.  I needed to fast for 6 hours before surgery at 11am, which meant I should have been up at 5am for breakfast, not happening so a cuppa will do.  The boy’s breakfasts made and served, lunches packed and children off to school by 8.30.  I’m all checked in and sitting in the “waiting” room reading my book by 10.45am. 

The chairs around me slowly fill.  Several noisy children, their parents and grandparents.  A whingy teenager, her mother and an overly chatty friend.  A very frail elderly lady in a wheelchairs escorted by her surprisingly frailer daughters.  An Asian man and his wife, who apparently thought it was a nightclub and came dressed in a sequined disco-dazzling top, and their daughter who is already bored stiff.  A woman my age who has the support of her very loving husband.  A South American mother and daughter who found it necessary to read out loud every question on the admission form and then animatedly discuss what might be the correct answer!  And several others, alone like me, accompanied only by a book or magazine.

By mid-day the room is full and I’m feeling good, the first of the patients have been called to have their weight and height recorded and return appropriately tagged ready for surgery.  By 1pm I am also weighed and tagged.  The seat is starting to feel small and hard.

At 1.30 the nurse announces that my surgeon has been delayed due to an emergency c-section in his rooms and he will start his list of patients around 3.30pm.  No problem, at least they didn’t cancel for the day.  Seat feeling like it’s made of concrete.

Around 3pm lots of the people around me have been called to dress in their robes and taken off to surgery.  The chatty friend of the woman behind me is driving me nuts with her constant tales of surgical disasters that have plagued her family.  I’d like to tell her to shut up but at least her banter is taking my mind of my rather sore ass.

By 5pm the whinging teenager is delirious and has begun to exaggerate that she has not eaten for over 24 hours.  The mother sooths her with the promise of McDonalds on the way home.  This then prompts the woman behind me to comment for the 90th time that she could murder a nice cup of tea. I fleetingly consider another kind of murder but as I can’t feel my ass any more the moment passes without incident.

5.30 rolls around and my sugar levels have dropped seriously low, I find myself tearing up and I’m no longer able to read my book as I can’t string two words together.  The Asian entourage are taken through to surgery and I am left with the whinging teenager who has now fallen into a coma due to lack of sustenance.  If I were having a baby there would be no need for any anaesthetic as the lower half of my body is now completely numb.

It is now 6pm and I am completely on my own in the waiting room, the nurse gives me my robes and ask me to change and place my belonging in a rather nasty plastic bag.  I watch the news alone in the waiting room, tears streaming down my face.

Finally at 6.45pm, eight hours after I arrived, I’m called into surgery!  As I’m no longer able to speak without bursting into tears, the lovely nursing staff give me lots of hugs and a big warm blanket to put over my chilly feet and legs which have turned an odd shade of blue. 

My surgery takes all of 15 minutes and I am in the recovery room by 7pm.  It’s now been 24 hours since I ate and I almost scull a cup of tea that’s offered by the nursing staff.  The surgeon advises me that all has gone well and that I can go home.  Hubby and the boys are summoned and by 8pm I’m safely home, tumour gone and ear restored to its former beauty. 

What a bloody long day!  I can’t even imagine how it feels to be waiting that long for major surgery, as happens so frequently for many. 

Now I can’t possibly finish my post on such a yuk note so how about a quick quiz?  I will ask you all to take the test and find out “Which Austen heroine are you?”.

Take the Quiz here!

TTFN