Lockdown Diary - Wednesday 8th July 2020

I shall start this post, my first since Sunday, with a warning - actually, make that two: It's going to be a long post, as I have a lot to say; It's also going to have load of hospital / surgery / whatever stuff in it too, about which you may well have zero interest. I'll mark the beginning and end of that section clearly so you can skip it and move to the rest of the blog without getting bored senseless. I have to write it though, because it needs to be recorded for posterity and for one reason or another everything that surrounds this operation has been a major part of my life, with a load of impacts on almost every aspect of it, for a few years now. I cannot ignore it for that reason.

I came out of hospital yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon being discharged at around 1:30 p.m. and collected by a good friend. During my time in the hospital - from 7:20 a.m. on Monday, when I was greeted by the admin person at the door of the ward - I was looked after incredibly well. I'd like to thank my surgeon/consultant, the anaesthetist (and her team), and all the nurses who cared for me so wonderfully whilst I was in hospital.  As I said to one of the nurses, I'd never been looked after so well anywhere and would come back and stay, minus the surgery, for such fantastic TLC.

Whilst I was in hospital some really wonderful friends did a makeover of our front garden which has transformed it, making it look much tidier and making some of the plants stand out and share their full glory. Many thanks for that, it was nice to come home to the transformation.

The next paragraph is the start of the section you may well want to skip.  The whole hospital saga, in all it's gory detail. Give or take. You have been warned...

I was so glad when Monday came around because I've been looking forward to having this operation since the beginning of the year. It should have happened in March - in fact I was less than a week away from having the operation when Covid-19 put paid to that.  At that time I was told it was postponed with no planned date for doing it, other than that I would be at the top of the list once operations re-started.

I arrived at the door of the ward, fully masked up, at 7:20 a.m., and was invited in with a "We're expecting you" and taken to a bed in the admissions bay.  I was the second bloke in and was soon joined by two others - the bay only holding 4 beds for social distancing reasons.  I was checked-in, tagged and weighed by one of the nurses, then told to change into the rather fetching gown.  At around 8:15 the surgeon came to see me and chatted through the operation, or, more correctly the two operations plus one investigative procedure, and the possible side-effects and risks. The plan was to insert a camera to investigate the damaged areas of pipe work and decide whether I need one or two grafts.  Next step was to take a strip of skin (two in worst case) from my inner cheek.  Finally the real operation, which involved making an incision between my testicles and anus and getting at the pipe (which he described as deep inside) removing the damaged section and replacing it with the graft from my cheek. So far, so good. (For fans of detail the three procedures were as follows: a urethroscopy to see what needed fixing where, then the buccal mucosa graft, which is removing the strip of skin from my inner cheek, followed by the urethroplasty, which is the removal of the bad skin and replacement with the graft. At some point in the process they also insert a catheter, which I'll have for the next two weeks whilst things heal up.)

A minute or two later, my anaesthetist came and introduced herself and went through a series of questions before telling me what she, and her team, would be doing. This included one surprise.  Before the general anaesthetic, I would have to have an injection into my spine. She described the process in some detail and told me that it was fairly routine, though there were some quite a few potential side effects and risks.  I did ask why it could not be done after the general anaesthetic, but she had a good answer: essentially the injection has to go in at exactly the right spot and in order to know they've not hit a nerve, they need you to be able to tell them what you feel. She did reassure me by telling me that they administer a local anaesthetic first.

Luckily for me I didn't have long to wait and a nurse came to collect me just after 8:30 a.m. to take me upstairs to theatre. The anaesthetist and team introduced themselves and then went through what was going to happen to me again, before beginning the process.  The first step was prep for the spinal which involved them spraying my back with something very cold, injecting the local anaesthetic, and then explaining how they needed me to sit on the edge of the bed, roughly in crash position whilst they worked out where the needle was to go in. They told me I'd feel some pressure on my back, but, to be honest, I wasn't that aware what they were doing and it was only after they'd finished and I lay back down that I began to notice a strange warm sensation in my feet and legs.  Some other drugs were inserted through the cannula in my left hand before I was told the anaesthetic was going in. At this point they opened the door into theatre and the last thing I remember was being wheeled through the double doors, then I was gone.

Next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room and it was a little after midday.  The surgeon came to see me again and told me it had gone well, I asked how long the operation took and he said about two hours, from 9:30 until 11:30, and he said he'd had to take a 4cm strip of skin from my right cheek, but none from my left. The stitches in my mouth were very apparent and felt like a strip of fishnet stocking running from front to back (maybe they had to use what they could find?) of my right cheek.

Not long after that I was taken back to a different bay in the ward where the nurse who would be looking after me introduced herself.  The anaesthetist came to see me and asked how I was feeling, whether I felt sick or in pain, and told me it had all gone without a hitch. Initially there were three of us in the bay, but as the afternoon moved on the other two were discharged as they had only been day patients.  So from mid-afternoon until around 8 p.m., there was one nurse and I in the bay.  Initially there was a South African nurse called Wendy who stayed and chatted with me when she wasn't making me coffee or toast, only interrupted by the need to take more meds and the arrival of my dinner. It seemed like we'd been talking for hours. At around 7:30 p.m. her shift ended and another nurse, Angelina, took over. 

Some time after 8 p.m. I was joined by another bloke who'd had a triple hernia operation.  As soon as he arrived he began moaning about everything.  Where was his mask? It had cost £30. I'm not wearing any other mask.  Why didn't they save him some dinner? And so on. Luckily after much searching the nurse found his mask. She made him a cup of tea and some toast and jam and he started to settle down.

Because I'd had a spinal injection I had to wear special things on my legs that were alternately inflating and tightening on my legs to help prevent DVT. At regular intervals the nurse came by and asked me to move my feet and bend my knees. Gradually the spinal was wearing off and as the night progressed I needed to take Oromorph as well as the other pain killers. I also have to take a special antiseptic and anaesthetic mouth wash at regular intervals to help with the stitches in my cheek.

I decided to read Private Eye in the hope I'd get off to sleep eventually but my brain wasn't having any of it. I read PE from cover to cover and decided to switch my light off to see if I could sleep. Unfortunately the bloke next to me snored loudly and every now and then would let out a moan, so sleep was difficult.  I did get into a strange dream state on the edge of sleep, where my life flashed before me in random sequences of events, but wouldn't quite let me sleep.  I was finally on the verge of dropping off the cliff into sleep during an especially enjoyable dream, when the bloke next to me asked the nurse what time it was, she said "ten to 4", and that was it, I was back in the dream-like in between world with no prospect of sleep.  Sleep was disturbed because the nurse had to take my blood pressure and so on anyway, so I guess a disturbed night was always in order.  Despite the snoring, it was good to know I wasn't in the room on my own.

Around 6 a.m. Tuesday morning activity starting picking up - time for meds, measurements and coffee and I just drifted until about 7 to 7:30-ish when the new nurses came on shift.

At about 8 a.m. another bloke joined us in the bay, so there were three of us and three nurses.  After breakfast, which only amounted to toast and Bovril, talk started to shift towards discharge, at least for me.

At about 9 my surgeon came to visit again and see how I was doing. I'd started to get the urge to go to the loo and he said just as well you hadn't tried as you're wearing a dressing that's like a parachute harness that goes underneath you, front to back.  He started to remove it, and apologised because it was pulling out hairs that he'd not shaved - he said "it's like a waxing" to which I replied jokingly that people pay good money for this to be done, though I'm not one of them! After a few minutes it was off and he inspected the stitching and was pleased with what he saw and said the site looked good.  He also talked about the next step which requires me to go to radiology in a couple of weeks for a "leak test" where they see if the pipework has healed up properly and that the surgery has worked - because until then we'll not know if things are on the right track.

After he'd gone we decided I should try and walk then see if I could go to the loo. I put my pants and dressing gown on and was escorted by a nurse to the loo. She told me I couldn't come back on my own but had to ring the bell for assistance.  I was escorted back, arm in arm, by one of the nurses, which was nice, then decided it was time to get dressed and start walking to make sure I was OK to be discharged.  Various bits of paperwork had to be done, pharmacy had to come and deliver drugs to take home, I needed my pack of catheter supplies for the next two weeks, I needed to be told how to care for the stitches and they needed to produce a return to work form.  By now it was approaching 1:30 p.m. and I'd had a text from a friend who was ready to pick me up. He came to the ward entrance and then I was escorted out and headed home.

...and that's the end of the hospital saga, for now!

The boys looked after me well in the evening, making dinner and checking I was OK. We watched the last episode of the the latest series of 'Friday Night Dinner' then an episode of 'Staged' before I headed for bed, which I was well and truly ready.  I got ready, connected myself to the night bag and drifted off to sleep, with not so much as the hint of snoring to be heard. Bliss!

Today I've been taking it easy. Got up later than normal: not until after 8:30 when the second set of carers arrived, and had a leisurely but very careful shower. Especially careful when drying myself. I then went and made myself breakfast. Things are a little more uncomfortable today, I guess because all the anaesthetic has left my system, so after originally thinking I'd not bother with the pain relief, I had to change my mind and give in. Sitting down is uncomfortable and I have to lower myself into chairs very gingerly. I've had the odd lie down.

I haven't done much - which was the plan - a couple of phone calls have been received, I wrote a review of the book club book we'd just finished and, of course, have been writing this epic tale. I did manage to read some of 'Ulysses' again

Highlight of the day was a Zoom call with school friends, I ate my dinner (thanks, boys!) whilst we chatted. Lots of laughter and tales of from across Europe.  After that, time to potter briefly then go to bed.

Something slightly obscure, music-wise. Freedom were formed by a couple of musicians who were kicked out of Procul Harum and were almost immediately commissioned by film director Dino De Laurentis to write the soundtrack for an Italian art film. This is 'The Better Side' from that film score. 

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