As I told you previously, I am an impressive projectile puker after anaesthetic so, to be honest, my first thought on waking up after any op is please don’t let me be sick. This is not based on nothing. After my hysterectomy I was so sick that part of my wound came open – not ideal you have to agree.
However, this time I woke up back in the same room with the lovely nurses and the heated blankies. The only time I’ve not been sick after an op, I went into hypothermic shock (I know, I am a disaster) but there was none of that this time. I lay with my eyes shut for quite a while before I allowed myself to have a feel of where I had been cut. I must have still been heavily drugged up as I had no pain at all.
Once I opened my eyes, a lovely nurse checked up on me and gave me a small sip of water. I had the distinct impression the anaesthetist had told them he was determined this one wasn’t going to puke and they weren’t to let me ruin his work by letting me have too much water!
I can only describe the feeling I have after an anaesthetic as a terrible sinus infection or what it must be like to be punched in the face really hard – not something I have actually experienced, although I’m sure there’s been times it might have been warranted.
I was wheeled up to a ward where my partner was waiting; there were 5 other beds already taken in the ward by ladies of mixed ages. It was BOILING in the ward but one of the nurses brought a fan to the end of the bed to cool me down.
After a while, Katrina (guardian angel nurse) arrived to explain how the op had gone and what would happen over the next few days. Unfortunately, it was half way through this conversation the old pukey feeling came upon me and I had to say ‘I’m going to be sick’ – Katrina and my partner jumped into action to look for the familiar cardboard bowler hat. Only just in time, bowler hat appeared and I was sick – but it was a tiny, tiny amount and I think it really was my mind that was convinced I was missing a step if I wasn’t sick. Katrina beat a hasty retreat.
My partner mentioned to one of the nurses that I had VHi and was entitled to a semi private room if one was available. This wasn’t some rank pulling exercise, but VHi had told me I was covered for it. Within half an hour two porters arrived and wheeled my bed into a private side room where I remained for the next three days. Having experienced a large ward after my hysterectomy where nobody slept (Scarborough Hospital), I was eternally grateful for this silent room with a window over looking Cork.
The wound itself was covered with a Piko Dressing. This is a clever compression dressing which has a small box attached to it. This is the battery operation which keeps the compression on the dressing. This stops any air getting in and subsequently any infection; basically it’s just damn clever. I also had a Blake Drain in my thigh. This is a tube going from your lymph nodes, draining away the fluid that your nodes would normally be doing. The drain has a small pump attached to it which needs to be emptied out regularly – more on this drain in later blogs. In addition to all of that, I also had a catheter so that I didn’t need to get out of bed for a wee. I sent my partner home. Anyone who has ever been in hospital knows that hospital toast is THE best toast in the whole wide world. Once I had managed to keep that down I drifted into a post-anaesthetic, pain killer induced sleep for the night, only waking up when the nurse came in to empty catheters and drains and take my blood pressure.
Tomorrow I would worry about scars and results, but not tonight….