Last Tuesday I was up before the household, quick shower and final pieces packed and off I went, early enough to catch a night bus to the station. Travelled on the tube with the retail workers and work boots and tool boxes. My mohawk sans produce tucked up in a turban and a totally comfy but weird slogan for the day hoodie and I arrived early to UCLH. (University London College Hospital)
I sat around for a while, and Mr Gin joined me after dropping Squeaky off at childcare. I met Mr Hutt’s Fellow (possibly Registrar) and we signed forms and again I was told they generally sorted the bed issues out. While we waited in the waiting room Mr Hutt dropped in to say everything was ready to go ahead, all the bits assembled. He thought there was a bed but the surgery wouldn’t happen till the afternoon.
I was taken up around 11:30, dressed in the hospital’s finest gowns. I walked to theatre, this something if found interesting, normally there is a wheel chair or bed involved. I left Mr Gin behind, he wouldn’t be there when I got out as he had to pick up Squeaky.
The spinal went smoothly, both Anaesthetist , Mr John Dick and Chris (missed the last name) were lovely, apparently I sat very still but to be honest I didn’t feel it at all. Good work. Mr Hutt was relived that I had selected to be sedated, personally I didn’t want to be awake, nerves would make me extra chatty.
The operation was a bone graft, a piece of donor bone was to be attached to my femur with wires. The medicine/science is that the donor bone should grow into my bone and make it thicker, hopefully this will take the pressure that I can feel and spread the load. Thus hopefully lessening the pain from the stem tip that is resting against the inside of my femur.
I woke in recovery, a bit fuzzy and sore. Lovely staff, as always, recovery nursing staff tend to be the most attentive, I am assuming that recovery is a place that you have to be on your toes. I call Mr Gin, because they realised there would be no one to meet me and I really wanted to let him know I was okay. I had a lovely chat with a Filipino nurse, we talked about being a long way from home and the British weather. Then I was very proactive and threw up my nice short bread biscuit in a vomit bowl. I was feeling a bit dissociative which was to be expected but this nausea was not something I have had with a spinal. I was given a drug to help and then a swift and slightly painful bed change because my bladder was not really there so to speak and throwing up set it off. My blood pressure was low as was my heart rate, this was little bit weird, it is not a rare side effect of a spinal but the heart rate was causing concern. I needed to drink more water. Another nurse came in, a fellow who obviously spent a lot of time in the gym. We had a conversation about my gym experience as a 40 tiny woman compared to his as a hefty nurse. He felt my lower heart rate may result in being fit. (I am not sure if he was being nice, it is odd being called fit by a medical professional.)
I was taken up to the tenth floor where I was looked after by an amazing Irish nursing assistant called Kathleen, she found my home so I could call Squeaky which made me cry. She decided that a slightly nauseous, weepy, Australian mum needed that phone quickly and located it for me. She also took away the sausages and mash that landed on my table that really didn’t help and found a sandwich. Small things that helped. I rewarded her by throwing up the sandwich but in bowls, sadly still required another bed change. Another anti – nausea drug and pain killers followed. My temperature was low, not sure why, the nurses covered me up in blankets and tried to get me warmed. I was surprisingly in a single room, I was warned I would be moved onto a bay, which was fine, but I was happy to be a in a single room for the first night, feeling as spaced as I was.
A friend, H, who worked locally came over after work and sat with me for a bit. We looked at the amazing view over London but I have very little memory of the conversation because the combination of three anti-nausea meds, painkillers and wearing off sedatives really made life interesting. My blankets began undulate on their on accord, looking like that they were breathing. It wasn’t a pleasant experience but I think H thought it slightly amusing!
She left and I dozed for a bit. The downside to low blood pressure is that nursing staff want you to drink water, that in turn means that you need to pee and then that means bed pans! Ack, and getting onto those bastards is hard with a very stiff and painful leg! I hate, loathe bed pans. End of subject.
In the morning, the Surgical Fellow I met before the surgery arrived, looked at the scar, which is lower than my replacement scar, and felt that as long as the physio team agreed and I got an x-ray and that looked good I could go home that day. That was a little bit of surprise, we were expecting a bit longer and if we could get out in the early afternoon it would be all fine. My temperature was higher but blood pressure a touch low.
The Physio arrived, a lively lady named Stacey, arrived with crutches. I had morphine before she arrived in anticipation of this being tough but I was so ready to walk to the toilet it wasn’t funny. We went through a refresher of crutch using and I gently stood up. I then swore, a lot, it fucking hurt but manageable. Mr Hutt had told me that it was likely to be more painful than replacement, he wasn’t wrong. So, up I got, I was going to pee. I turned and my ears began to ring, my head felt tight and I felt really hot. I realised that I was going to faint. I told Stacey that I had to sit down, rapidly and she told me to lie down. She then harassed the bed to get my head lower than my feet. She was quite concerned and checked my blood pressure, which was low, not very low but a bit of concern and my colour was extremely pale. More goth than goth. The Physio decided that I wasn’t going to be discharged the day with low enough blood pressure. It took a while for my colour to return.
Stacey decided she would come back in the after lunch to see how I was going and do walking and stairs then. Annoyingly I was to stay in bed until she came back and that meant bed pans.
Mr Gin visited with snacks and I perfected some origami as we waited for the x-ray and physio. The Pharmacist dropped by and discussed drugs, including one that I had not tried before.
Dihydrocodeine, first test to see if it made me throw up and if it works. During the day I ended up doubling it up with morphine as the pain was pretty full on. In an attempt to feel more human I changed into a nightie of my own which helped.
Stacey the Physio returned and I was fine with the crutches, although the leg was sore, I was happy to give it a go. We did not do the stairs as there was no wheelchair but I wasn’t going home anyway because the x-ray had not happened. But I did not have to use a bed pan so I did not care!
So, Mr Gin went off to pick up Squeaky and H dropped in before she went off a meeting. I was nice to have her company, we admired the view again and I wandered around a bit on my crutches. She headed off on to her meeting and I settled in for the night after saying good night to Squeaky. By 9:30 I was struggling to remain awake so I went to sleep.
The morning was an early start with the Physio turning up before the joy of the pain med cart. I walked on my crutches to the stairs, the leg was very sore but I was going to do this, I miss Squeaky and my bed. (I missed Mr Gin too, but I was seeing him.) There was two Physios and we went up and down a flight of stairs. Oh boy, it hurt, my leg is so stiff, the femur hurt a lot and the incision was tight. I did it though. I got back to my room and Stacey was a gem and located a some morphine, I was very pleased to see it. It takes a fair bit to put me in tears but there was I lying on the bed sobbing but after a while it settled.
Stacey was happy to discharge me, now it was only an x-ray and we were golden but considering they had ordered it yesterday, I was a little worried. I had a pain free nap and an entertaining time doing origami feeling floaty.
The time was slipping away and Mr Gin had to go and pick up Squeaky. Thankfully the lovely R was pleased to duck out of work and wait with me while I butted my head against the wall of hospital policy about not prescribing oramorph. I was not happy with the pain management of the codeine, ibuprofen and paracetamol combo. It removed some of the pain but I wasn’t overly comfortable. The doctors suggested that I stay another night but I wanted to come home and hug Squeaky.
In the end I left with R and we had a bit of a tough time getting a cab due to being officially discharged at 5 pm. Getting discharged from hospital is unbelievably complicated and time consuming.
Home was lovely, Squeaky was lovely and it was good to see Mr Gin and eat real food. All in all it was a very different experience to Epsom and I felt it was odd that I only saw Mr Hutt once.
