Saturday, 14 January 2017

5th January - The day of my surgery


Finally the day of my surgery comes around, along with the nerves. I'm asked numerously if I still want to go ahead. I'm hoping this is standard hospital procedure rather than fate trying to tell me something. I'm sorely tempted to change my mind, but I'm not sure that cancelling with a couple of minutes to spare is the done thing.?? (Is it?) All I kept asking myself was "could wait until I'd swum Windermere?" And perhaps I should postpone it, but there was never going to be a good time to have this done, and so needed to just get on with it.

Both feet done? Check!
All went well, and with pain killers I felt fine. I was advised not to stand until I could feel my feet (they had injected some numbing stuff in them - I'm nothing if not fastidious about using the correct terminology aren't I?) which is ok until you need to go to the loo. The nurse told me I'd have to use a commode, and this is where spectacular loss of dignity happened - let me explain... There was no way round it, and certainly no persuading the nurse to let me go to the bathroom. I had to use a commode (no this isn't it, although awful in itself). No need for detail here, but seconds after I had sat myself back on the bed to dress half a dozen nurses came running into my room. The nurse was perplexed, I was stunned. We had no idea why they ran in so urgently, until they explained that I had managed to sit on the call button, with my bare backside no less, I hadn't felt a thing! They explained that when you continually press the button it signals an emergency in the room and they had all come to help. You can't fault their speedy response that's for sure, but at this moment I find myself sitting on my bed virtually naked from the waist down with a room full of people looking at me... I'm still mortified, as probably are they!

Home the following day in the most awful footwear that I need to learn to love, to start my recovery...


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