Day Surgery

Part of my anxiety - a huge part - is health anxiety. Even though that makes me something of a hypochondriac, I don't like doctors and medical procedures. They make me very anxious. So, you can well imagine how I must have been feeling about the prospect of day surgery. It was nothing too invasive but it did involve general anaesthetic. Yikes. That was yesterday and I lived to write the tale. *sigh of relief*

I was pretty cool about it up until the night before. I knew I needed it done and that the results would be immediate so I was actually impatient to go in and get it over and done with. I went to bed the night before and slept well ... for an hour. After that, my sleep was fitful and my anxiety levels really high. On a scale of 1 to 10 they would have been a 10. My heart was pounding, I was sweating and my mouth was as dry as cotton. Unfortunately, drinking was not an option after midnight so that exacerbated the anxiety. One of the first things I do when I'm anxious is have a sip of water. I also do it when I'm hungry to tide me over.

Morning came and being up and about calmed me and gave me a purpose. Even the traffic jam we hit on the way to the hospital didn't unduly upset me. It would have normally; we were stuck in traffic and behind a bus so couldn't see ahead. Once there at the hospital and checked in, the nurse had a long chat with me and took copious notes. After that she took my blood pressure and told me my surgery would be in two and a half hours. What????  My anxiety rose. I didn't know how I could go that long without eating or drinking anything. I'd really had to work to give her the wee sample she needed; there was no liquid inside me to come out. I was sooo thirsty.

I decided the most sensible thing to do while I waited was nothing. That way, I'd expend as little energy as possible. I began by staring out of the window. It was a beautiful, clear morning, and I could see across the green playing fields of Flinders University to Main South Road. Being 8am on a weekday, the cars were at a standstill, just as they had been when we'd taken the same route thirty minutes earlier.

Following that, I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the day surgery ward. The low hum of the air conditioner underpinned it all but was barely noticeable. The dominant noise was that of the voices drifting in from the nurses' station right outside my small cubicle. Blood pressure machines being wheeled across the lino floor occasionally competed with the voices. Every so often there was a bang or crash, the origin of which I couldn't begin to guess.

After awhile, the hunger and thirst began to make me feel nauseas but somehow I drifted off to sleep. The next thing I knew an orderly had appeared to take me to the theatre. He asked me for my full name, date of birth and the procedure I was having done. The ride through the hospital hallways didn't help the queasy stomach.

Once there I asked him the time and found out that I'd waited less that two hours. He left and my surgeon came in. He asked me my full name, date of birth and what procedure I was having. I knew it was protocol but I was sorely tempted to tell him that he should know since he was the one performing the procedure! He left and the anaesthetist came in and introduced himself and asked me to sign something to do with fees. I hope it was nothing too major because I was so hungry and thirsty I think I was too hypoglycaemic to be making major decisions. He asked a few questions, listened to my heart and lungs and asked me to tell him my full name, date of birth and what procedure I was having done. After he left, one of the theatre nurses came in and introduced herself and asked me to tell her ... I think you may already know by now.

Finally they were ready for me in theatre and in I went. They hooked me up to a blood pressure and heart beat monitor, put electrodes or some such things on my chest, put a line in my arm, and just as I was going under, another nurse asked me to tell her ... yep, again. I sped spoke because I was losing it by then.

When I woke up, my leg muscles were spasming wildly. The recovery nurse said it was the anaesthetic but got me a warm blanket which was really soothing and seemed to help. She also gave me a cold drink of water. I didn't feel quite as thirsty or hungry anymore. Then she took my blood pressure and I was wheeled back to my room.

Once back in the room, I was fed and given a cup of tea and a bottle of water. They even brought me a second cup of tea. I was on some kind of a drip which I found out was fluid so, by the time I was unhooked and had drunk everything, I'd had nearly two litres of fluid. Yay!

After that I got dressed and waited the couple of hours for my husband to come and get me, passing the time crocheting. Once home, I ate lunch, had another cup of tea and crashed out!