Wednesday 17th October 2018

“So for now I say goodbye to this chapter of my life and I look forward to what comes next.” – Brooke Davis

I was to report to North Manchester General Hospital at 8.30am for day surgery. Time to say goodbye to my right nut ! Bag packed, and with my usual “bring it on” philosophy, I jumped out of my dad’s car and wandered to the day surgery unit.

It always strikes me how many questions the nurses have to ask – smoker, height, weight, fitness, allergies etc, the interrogation can be lengthy. However, up to this point in life, the answer to everything is a resounding no, I’m fit and healthy with no known issues.

Things took a turn when they said they were “admitting me” and I’d be in overnight, which turned out to be a blip and it was as I had expected, in and out of the revolving door same day.

Still pretty chipper, I told the long list of doctor’s and nurse’s that asked me my date of birth and my address (presumably to make sure I’ve not been replaced by an imposter,) and eventually made it to the anaesthesia room where I had a good chat with the chap who would put me to sleep.

Now, I had “the snip” just under a year back, my first operation where I was put to sleep, so this part seemed recently familiar. When I woke up from that, it was like going from being absolutely hammered (I mean room spinning, about to vomit type hammered) to being sober and hangover free in about two and a half minutes. Not this time though…

I felt incredibly tired. I was asked if I wanted to get off the bed and into a chair. Absolutely not ! It hurt down there ! So I had a nap for about 30 mins. Woke up, got into the chair very slowly without too much discomfort, then took the offer of a sandwich and a brew. One bite of my sandwich made me realise I felt terribly nauseous, so I had another nap for about 30 mins. Then I felt a bit more “with it,” ate my sandwich just about, then drank my warm tea.

After the minimum 2 hour stay, I was fine to go home and Jayne arrived to take me home. I walked gingerly out of the ward to the car, hunched over somewhat. The wound felt tight if that’s the right word. It reminded me of being in the RAF Cadets, going flying where the parachute was pulled so tight around your thighs that you simply were not able to stand up fully straight.

Straight home onto the sofa, and had another nap, not before asking for : Hot Dog Stuffed Crust Pizza, Sticky Toffee Pudding, Mint Imperials and some Kettle Chips. Only to realise after Jayne went to get it, and cook it, I was too nauseous to eat anything still, so I went to bed and slept really quite well.

The pain afterwards wasn’t too bad, I was dubious that paracetamol would do the job but it did. I even managed to sleep on my side (I’m a side sleeper) from night 2 which helped a lot.