Well I'm feeling pretty good this morning. I'm in a bit of pain but nothing a couple of paracetamol can't handle and my cold is definitely on the way out.
So what happened?
Well as I explained yesterday I'd gone to the clinic to 'discuss' the removal of this lump and was expecting a battle because they seemed very insistent on doing it under general anesthetic, which every PH suffer knows is tricky to say the least. My appointment was for 11.10 and having experienced my local hospital before went armed with a good book as I expected a long wait. I even sent Peter off to do some shopping as I thought it would be pointless him hanging around too.
I was shown in to see the consultant at 11.12 and I braced myself for the argument to come. Too my utter amazement she said 'you've been through enough this year' and 'we need to get this done sooner rather than later' almost before I sat down. A good start I thought expecting an appointment in the next week or two. 'How about this afternoon?' Before I knew it I'd signed the consent forms and was on my way to the day surgery unit to be prepared. She didn't once mention GA and instead she explained that she planned to smother my boob in a special cream which would numb the skin, then pump me full of local and work as quickly as possible.
I have to say I was taken aback by the speed and only just had time to notify Peter what was happening before I was wheeled into theatre. The operation itself took less than twenty minutes and I was back in recovery with a mug of hot sweet tea and an egg sandwich. I was discharged with a pocket full of pain killers and antibiotic cover half an hour later with instructions to return next week to have the stitches removed.
Exhausted and completely stressed out I fell into bed around nine with a hot chocolate and a couple of pain killers and was soon fast asleep. I slept much better than expected and was not woken by pain once. I must be tougher than I think I am.
I am not allowed a shower until tomorrow so I stripped off this morning for an all over wash and got the first look at the damage in the mirror. I have a huge pressure dressing which has squashed me flat but this is good as the less movement, the less pain and I look like a small child has drawn arrows everywhere but apart from that everything seems fine. I can remove the dressing tomorrow and have been given a lighter, waterproof one to replace it with.
Another person going through a far rougher time than me is fellow PH sufferer Sita who's transplant partially failed as the heart wouldn't start beating. This is a real blow to the PH community, we have lost far too many friends this year, we really do not want to add Sita to the list. Despite my trauma Sita hasn't been far from my mind and she was the last person I though about last night and the first person I thought about waking up this morning. However a miracle has happened overnight when a new donor heart became available. To have one chance of life is lucky, to have two in two days must make Sita one of the luckiest ladies on the planet. At time of writing we do not know if this second op has been successful and we are all praying for good news this time.
Sita's predicament has been something of a reality check and I don't think there are many on the transplant list who have not had second thoughts over the last couple of days. We all see transplant as something of a miracle cure and don't even consider the possibility that it might not work. We are all aware of the dangers that follow transplant such as infection and rejection but we all expect the initial operation to go well. I must admit for a brief moment yesterday I did wonder if what I was going through was worth it. If I wasn't up for transplant the lump could have been left alone and just monitored. This event has made me realise both how much I'm prepared to go through to get the transplant and how scared I am of actually being called up.
Thinking about you Sita and hoping for good news soon.
In the news I was horrified to learn that Stuart Hall has been charged for indecent assault that took place in the 1970's. I really enjoyed Stuart Hall's commentary on It's A Knockout and viewed him as a sort of benevolent, jolly uncle. I still wonder what good it is doing dragging this all up now but he's apparently admitted it so I can't really argue.
Also the Palace and the Media are in uproar over a fake phone call made by two Australian radio presenters. In a shocking breach of patient confidentiality the nurses happily divulged personal information to this pair without once questioning their authenticity.
I really do not know how this happened, especially as each time I've been in hospital Peter has had real trouble getting any information about me.
And finally some university bod has taught a dog to drive. Really? Why?
Next blog could be tomorrow or on Tuesday depending on whether I feel up for work or not.
So what happened?
Well as I explained yesterday I'd gone to the clinic to 'discuss' the removal of this lump and was expecting a battle because they seemed very insistent on doing it under general anesthetic, which every PH suffer knows is tricky to say the least. My appointment was for 11.10 and having experienced my local hospital before went armed with a good book as I expected a long wait. I even sent Peter off to do some shopping as I thought it would be pointless him hanging around too.
I was shown in to see the consultant at 11.12 and I braced myself for the argument to come. Too my utter amazement she said 'you've been through enough this year' and 'we need to get this done sooner rather than later' almost before I sat down. A good start I thought expecting an appointment in the next week or two. 'How about this afternoon?' Before I knew it I'd signed the consent forms and was on my way to the day surgery unit to be prepared. She didn't once mention GA and instead she explained that she planned to smother my boob in a special cream which would numb the skin, then pump me full of local and work as quickly as possible.
I have to say I was taken aback by the speed and only just had time to notify Peter what was happening before I was wheeled into theatre. The operation itself took less than twenty minutes and I was back in recovery with a mug of hot sweet tea and an egg sandwich. I was discharged with a pocket full of pain killers and antibiotic cover half an hour later with instructions to return next week to have the stitches removed.
Exhausted and completely stressed out I fell into bed around nine with a hot chocolate and a couple of pain killers and was soon fast asleep. I slept much better than expected and was not woken by pain once. I must be tougher than I think I am.
I am not allowed a shower until tomorrow so I stripped off this morning for an all over wash and got the first look at the damage in the mirror. I have a huge pressure dressing which has squashed me flat but this is good as the less movement, the less pain and I look like a small child has drawn arrows everywhere but apart from that everything seems fine. I can remove the dressing tomorrow and have been given a lighter, waterproof one to replace it with.
Another person going through a far rougher time than me is fellow PH sufferer Sita who's transplant partially failed as the heart wouldn't start beating. This is a real blow to the PH community, we have lost far too many friends this year, we really do not want to add Sita to the list. Despite my trauma Sita hasn't been far from my mind and she was the last person I though about last night and the first person I thought about waking up this morning. However a miracle has happened overnight when a new donor heart became available. To have one chance of life is lucky, to have two in two days must make Sita one of the luckiest ladies on the planet. At time of writing we do not know if this second op has been successful and we are all praying for good news this time.
Sita's predicament has been something of a reality check and I don't think there are many on the transplant list who have not had second thoughts over the last couple of days. We all see transplant as something of a miracle cure and don't even consider the possibility that it might not work. We are all aware of the dangers that follow transplant such as infection and rejection but we all expect the initial operation to go well. I must admit for a brief moment yesterday I did wonder if what I was going through was worth it. If I wasn't up for transplant the lump could have been left alone and just monitored. This event has made me realise both how much I'm prepared to go through to get the transplant and how scared I am of actually being called up.
Thinking about you Sita and hoping for good news soon.
In the news I was horrified to learn that Stuart Hall has been charged for indecent assault that took place in the 1970's. I really enjoyed Stuart Hall's commentary on It's A Knockout and viewed him as a sort of benevolent, jolly uncle. I still wonder what good it is doing dragging this all up now but he's apparently admitted it so I can't really argue.
Also the Palace and the Media are in uproar over a fake phone call made by two Australian radio presenters. In a shocking breach of patient confidentiality the nurses happily divulged personal information to this pair without once questioning their authenticity.
I really do not know how this happened, especially as each time I've been in hospital Peter has had real trouble getting any information about me.
And finally some university bod has taught a dog to drive. Really? Why?
Next blog could be tomorrow or on Tuesday depending on whether I feel up for work or not.
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