Never assume.........
Yesterday was Thanksgiving Day...the day I was booked to get that naughty uterus hoiked out by the robot. I was prepared and ready; breathing calmly, accompanied by my dearly beloved partner and baby son (!!!) and had my crochet in attendance and a book to read. I had cut down my packing to a minimum (I’m not good at that), and hadn’t brought extras due to the security and storage problems posed in a busy NHS hospital.
We set off from home just after 6 am. As already mentioned, Peter was amazed that there were so many people on the bus ..... “where are they all going to?”. Oh the joy of never commuting and not therefore understanding the economy of the service industry. We were, in true famille Quiney tradition, laughing heartily - mostly due to the fact that Peter suggested all these people had known he would be on the bus and had come to greet “the Legend”...........
{IN FACT - AS I WRITE THIS, PETER HAS JUST SUGGESTED I WRITE A BOOK ABOUT HIM ENTITLED ‘THE LEGEND THAT NEVER WAS}
....... I digress.
So we arrived at the Royal Marsden, and waited in reception until the magical entry time of 7.30 am. Just before the allotted time, we made our way upstairs (to the same area where I did my timed marching a few days ago) and joined the throng (and I mean throng) of people all arriving for surgery........ How many people there are with cancer? Peter said he hadn’t realised that cancer was going to affect men too (on that particular day - he has clearly been focussing on female cancer only). He was continuing in the light hearted vein that we had adopted at the start of our journey (we all cope with stress in different ways) and at one point I had to whisper in his ear, that some people were probably very upset and anxious, so perhaps we should calm down on the humour........
I was a little worried because I had neglected to follow my pre-op instructions to the letter, and had not rung the unit at the pre-arranged time the day before to confirm my attendance. I mean - who WOULDN’T confirm attendance for surgery to remove cancer???? Really?
I was worried that somehow, they might assume that Madeleine Quiney was NOT going to attend for her radical hysterectomy with bilateral salpingectomy and oophorectomy......... What if I wasn’t on the list???
I managed to catch the attention of a senior staff nurse as the nurses were bustling in and out of the holding area calling people by name, and admitted my failings. She smiled warmly, and reassured me that it was fine! She checked that I was on the extensive list, and patted my arm kindly. Soon after, she came back and ushered the three of us into the ward. I was shown the first bed on the left hand side, and we were requested to wait for a bit.
Ned stretched out on a chair, which then meant that no-one could get past his legs, Peter perched on the bed, and I took the patient’s chair. We were soon visited by Marielle Nobbenhuis, and her team, and she greeted us all warmly, and checked that she had Peter’s number so she could call him after the surgery to let him know how it had gone. She asked me if I was happy for an onlooker (I wrote about this yesterday), and I agreed.
I was then met by the lovely anaesthetic consultant, who was at pains to explain procedures to me - we discussed the fact that I dislike cannula insertion in the back of my hand (bruising lasts at least a week) and that I have great veins. So good, in fact, that I let students practise bloodletting on me - some of you reading this will have taken my blood! He warned me about very rare occurrences following GA, for example, tooth damage! But I wasn’t to worry - if that happened, they have a specialist orthodontic team at the Marsden. Great.
Then, the nurse came to check through the list with me. She measured me for TEDS (excellent....still a medium - please may that continue - worrying about lymphoedema in the very dark recesses of my mind.....) and left me with a gown, oversocks, a fluffy towelling robe (remember I’m treating this little misadventure as a holiday) and red name bands to match the one she attached to my wrist (one for my ankle - my choice which ankle, and one for my suitcase...which I now had to squeeze my coat and boots into as well - packing fail - I thought I’d been so clever) Red name bands I hear you cry????? Yes - allergic to trimethoprim and cheap metal! For those of you not involved in healthcare - a red name band is an alert, a warning.... usually for something far more serious, like diabetes, or epilepsy, or a serious life threatening condition, not just a dodgy reaction to cheap earrings - well.....they did ask.
I settled down to wait (I was apparently second on the list) and would possibly not be wheeled down to the basement until around noon. So I got out my crochet, and my book and tried to practise a bit of mindfulness. I was entertained all the while by the Estates Department at the hospital, who were trying to fix the automatically opening door, which was broken. You have no at idea how entertaining it is to watch the normal traffic in and out of a busy ward when the door doesn’t open.
I became the voice of Janus (classical reference here) and started to call out to all who passed that the door was broken, and to push hard!
At around 11.30, I thought “right. Let’s get gowned up” . I struggled for a good few minutes to get those pesky TEDS stockings on, adorned myself in the netty knickers (apparently, they rip them off you on the table...... not a vision I want to dwell on,) ........ and put on the oversocks and attached the red label to my right ankle to complete the look......
As I was sitting waiting patiently - I can admit to some butterflies here, Marielle poked her head around the corner - and I knew, as soon as I saw her face full of regret, that I was not going to have my surgery on Thanksgiving Day. Some poor soul needed emergency robotic surgery and she was going to have to cancel her list for the rest of the day..... yes. This was a blow. I was psychologically prepared, but.... I do feel well - and hopefully, my condition is not so serious that it can’t wait another few days. I had no choice but to remove my theatre attire, dress back up again, and set off for home! I didn’t even have my purse or my house keys.
Thank heavens for the over 60 Oyster card, and a key safe outside the front door!
Watch this space for a re-run on Monday 26th November (not Thanksgiving Day - but there are numerous saints who the Catholic Church recognise on that day, so I shall adopt the only female one - Gaetana Sterni........)
From this point on, Monday will become GS day, which could also be an acronym for “GYNAECOLOGY SAVIOUR DAY”
Happy weekend everyone. 😘
PS ————-
am still waiting for more cartoons of uterus kicking. I have a beautiful book for them to be mounted in. Get those pens and pencils (or drawing tablets, or slates, if you’re old enough) out , and draw me a uterus being kicked into touch!
We set off from home just after 6 am. As already mentioned, Peter was amazed that there were so many people on the bus ..... “where are they all going to?”. Oh the joy of never commuting and not therefore understanding the economy of the service industry. We were, in true famille Quiney tradition, laughing heartily - mostly due to the fact that Peter suggested all these people had known he would be on the bus and had come to greet “the Legend”...........
{IN FACT - AS I WRITE THIS, PETER HAS JUST SUGGESTED I WRITE A BOOK ABOUT HIM ENTITLED ‘THE LEGEND THAT NEVER WAS}
....... I digress.
So we arrived at the Royal Marsden, and waited in reception until the magical entry time of 7.30 am. Just before the allotted time, we made our way upstairs (to the same area where I did my timed marching a few days ago) and joined the throng (and I mean throng) of people all arriving for surgery........ How many people there are with cancer? Peter said he hadn’t realised that cancer was going to affect men too (on that particular day - he has clearly been focussing on female cancer only). He was continuing in the light hearted vein that we had adopted at the start of our journey (we all cope with stress in different ways) and at one point I had to whisper in his ear, that some people were probably very upset and anxious, so perhaps we should calm down on the humour........
I was a little worried because I had neglected to follow my pre-op instructions to the letter, and had not rung the unit at the pre-arranged time the day before to confirm my attendance. I mean - who WOULDN’T confirm attendance for surgery to remove cancer???? Really?
I was worried that somehow, they might assume that Madeleine Quiney was NOT going to attend for her radical hysterectomy with bilateral salpingectomy and oophorectomy......... What if I wasn’t on the list???
I managed to catch the attention of a senior staff nurse as the nurses were bustling in and out of the holding area calling people by name, and admitted my failings. She smiled warmly, and reassured me that it was fine! She checked that I was on the extensive list, and patted my arm kindly. Soon after, she came back and ushered the three of us into the ward. I was shown the first bed on the left hand side, and we were requested to wait for a bit.
Ned stretched out on a chair, which then meant that no-one could get past his legs, Peter perched on the bed, and I took the patient’s chair. We were soon visited by Marielle Nobbenhuis, and her team, and she greeted us all warmly, and checked that she had Peter’s number so she could call him after the surgery to let him know how it had gone. She asked me if I was happy for an onlooker (I wrote about this yesterday), and I agreed.
I was then met by the lovely anaesthetic consultant, who was at pains to explain procedures to me - we discussed the fact that I dislike cannula insertion in the back of my hand (bruising lasts at least a week) and that I have great veins. So good, in fact, that I let students practise bloodletting on me - some of you reading this will have taken my blood! He warned me about very rare occurrences following GA, for example, tooth damage! But I wasn’t to worry - if that happened, they have a specialist orthodontic team at the Marsden. Great.
Then, the nurse came to check through the list with me. She measured me for TEDS (excellent....still a medium - please may that continue - worrying about lymphoedema in the very dark recesses of my mind.....) and left me with a gown, oversocks, a fluffy towelling robe (remember I’m treating this little misadventure as a holiday) and red name bands to match the one she attached to my wrist (one for my ankle - my choice which ankle, and one for my suitcase...which I now had to squeeze my coat and boots into as well - packing fail - I thought I’d been so clever) Red name bands I hear you cry????? Yes - allergic to trimethoprim and cheap metal! For those of you not involved in healthcare - a red name band is an alert, a warning.... usually for something far more serious, like diabetes, or epilepsy, or a serious life threatening condition, not just a dodgy reaction to cheap earrings - well.....they did ask.
I settled down to wait (I was apparently second on the list) and would possibly not be wheeled down to the basement until around noon. So I got out my crochet, and my book and tried to practise a bit of mindfulness. I was entertained all the while by the Estates Department at the hospital, who were trying to fix the automatically opening door, which was broken. You have no at idea how entertaining it is to watch the normal traffic in and out of a busy ward when the door doesn’t open.
I became the voice of Janus (classical reference here) and started to call out to all who passed that the door was broken, and to push hard!
At around 11.30, I thought “right. Let’s get gowned up” . I struggled for a good few minutes to get those pesky TEDS stockings on, adorned myself in the netty knickers (apparently, they rip them off you on the table...... not a vision I want to dwell on,) ........ and put on the oversocks and attached the red label to my right ankle to complete the look......
As I was sitting waiting patiently - I can admit to some butterflies here, Marielle poked her head around the corner - and I knew, as soon as I saw her face full of regret, that I was not going to have my surgery on Thanksgiving Day. Some poor soul needed emergency robotic surgery and she was going to have to cancel her list for the rest of the day..... yes. This was a blow. I was psychologically prepared, but.... I do feel well - and hopefully, my condition is not so serious that it can’t wait another few days. I had no choice but to remove my theatre attire, dress back up again, and set off for home! I didn’t even have my purse or my house keys.
Thank heavens for the over 60 Oyster card, and a key safe outside the front door!
Watch this space for a re-run on Monday 26th November (not Thanksgiving Day - but there are numerous saints who the Catholic Church recognise on that day, so I shall adopt the only female one - Gaetana Sterni........)
From this point on, Monday will become GS day, which could also be an acronym for “GYNAECOLOGY SAVIOUR DAY”
Happy weekend everyone. 😘
PS ————-
am still waiting for more cartoons of uterus kicking. I have a beautiful book for them to be mounted in. Get those pens and pencils (or drawing tablets, or slates, if you’re old enough) out , and draw me a uterus being kicked into touch!
Wonderful writing! So descriptive. .... I can almost here 'The Leg End' being numerous!
ReplyDeleteThat Should read 'Humerous'!!!!
ReplyDelete