… now complete.
Two days earlier than expected.
I’ll be running like Usain Bolt, before you know it….
Yeah right – more like Oscar Pistorius… without his blades.
On a serious note, here are some thoughts of mine, regarding the operation.
I am writing these before I go down to theatre (Tuesday), but have decided against publishing them, until surgery is complete and I am back on the ward…
- Woken up at 6.45am, by a nurse keen to get me washed and the bedsheets changed. Apparently, having tiny bits of smoky bacon crisp, stuck to your skin, is not very hygienic, if going to theatre.
- Clearly there’s no breakfast for me – I’m Nil By Mouth. I could give or take the toast, but would commit murder for a coffee.
- At least I won’t go thirsty – they have me on a drip. Sadly, it’s a drip of saline and not a flat white.
- Serious bit alert… I’m not scared about having an operation. I have a lot of faith in the surgeon. I also know that I have no alternative, but to have this operation – unless I want to live in bed, suffering with strong pain, for the rest of my life.
- I feel a tad selfish – while I don’t expect or think anything will go wrong, if the very worst should happen, I won’t suffer or know anything about it. Those I would leave behind – my wife and family – would be the ones to have their lives ruined.
- Apologies for the two bullet points above, pretty hard stuff there. Although, as you’re reading this, you know that I’m ok.
- Everytime I hear a trolley coming down the corridor, towards my bedroom, I wonder if it’s the porters, coming for me.
- A nurse has taped my wedding ring to my finger. Obviously, I never forget that I am wearing the ring, but this simple act of securing it to my finger, makes me feel even more settled and that my wife, Claire, will be with me, as I am in theatre.
- Post-surgery, I’d love to think I would have the appetite to devour a huge plate of nachos and a large margarita from Pizza Express. Chances are, I’ll be sick and being begged to have a nibble of toast.
- This is one of the reasons I’m blogging now. All I will need to do, when I return to the ward, is hit the PUBLISH button, under this post.
- I think that’s about it. Wish me luck, although that’s a stupid thing to say, as like I said, the fact you’re reading this means that the operation is complete.
I’ve refrained from proof-reading all of the above.
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