Today was the day I was dreading.
The day when I was to go under the knife.
I took myself off for a bus ride yesterday in the hope that it would divert my attention....it did not.
I wandered round the shops with not an idea in my head of what I wanted.
My mind kept on returning to what would be on the cards for me today.
I slept badly last night and was just drifting off when it was time to get up.
I had to present myself at thebElective Surgery Unit by 7.30 this morning.
I could eat and drink normally, but my appetite deserted me.
I managed a slice of toast but it tasted a bit like a styrene tile.
I got to the unit early.
Goodness Burnley General is a nightmare to find your way around.
Initially, I was lost.
I saw two youn men delivering milk, so I asked them to point me in the right direction.
I was really lucky to find that that was where they were taking a trolley of milk...so I tagged along.
There were about 15 of us congregated in front of the ward doors.
We were allowed in on the dot of 7.30.
Men to the left, ladies to the right...into the waiting room.
Nurses came and called out the names...I was left with two othe ladies.
We felt like the last broken biscuits in the box.
Eventually we were called through as well.
I was shown to a chair...there was a lovely fetching theatre gown on the table...and of course a load of paperwork.
A nurse came and introduced herself...she was going to be looking after me.
I was weighed, my height was measured....and I have grown half an inch.
Then my observations were checked....temp was normal, oxygen stats were spot on, pulse was good but my blood pressure was sky high.
215/110.... crikey Moses. The nurse said she would leave me to settle down and recheck it again.
This did not help at all...it just gave me time to ratchet it up a bit more.
I told the nurse that I have 'white coat Syndrome'....she told me that the high BP might mean that the op could not go ahead.
I told her that if I had to go home and come back another day, it might be worse.
The consultant had not yet arrived, but she said he would make the decision...but not to bother getting into the theatre gown.
I sat there mentally chewing my nails down to my elbows.
Soon a very pleasant young man came to see me...it was my consultant.
He checked me over and went through what was to happen...so I was going to be operated on after all.
I hurriedly got into my posh frock(!) and a pair of white stockings....I was given paper knickers (oh the ignominy)....and I was walked up to theatre.
Once in there I could see trays of shiny sharp steel....needles and vials all set out.
I was connected to a machine the flashed and beeped.
A BP cuff was put on my right arm.
They covered me in sterile green towels, made into a sort of turban.
I was painted with antiseptic solution.
My temple and the side of my cheek was infiltrated with local....and a little time was left for it to take effect.
Playing in the background was one of Chopin 's Nocturnes....then the surgeon tested the area.
Ow, ow, ow...there were still places that had feeling ....so more local was given.
Then I am sure I heard someone sharpening the knife on the back step.
The surgery took a little over an hour.
The stitches were put in to repair the hole....and then just to be sure the area was glued as well.
It was done, all over with....my BCC has been removed and I was ready to go back to the ward.
I was given a brew and biscuits and then discharged home.
I was back in my own surroundings by midday.
I have to take it easy for the next 48 hours....I am feeling a bit bruised and tender and I am held together with string and glue.
Phew, I am glad that is over with...and though it wasn't exactly fun, it was not as bad as I thought.
The day when I was to go under the knife.
I took myself off for a bus ride yesterday in the hope that it would divert my attention....it did not.
I wandered round the shops with not an idea in my head of what I wanted.
My mind kept on returning to what would be on the cards for me today.
I slept badly last night and was just drifting off when it was time to get up.
I had to present myself at thebElective Surgery Unit by 7.30 this morning.
I could eat and drink normally, but my appetite deserted me.
I managed a slice of toast but it tasted a bit like a styrene tile.
I got to the unit early.
Goodness Burnley General is a nightmare to find your way around.
Initially, I was lost.
I saw two youn men delivering milk, so I asked them to point me in the right direction.
I was really lucky to find that that was where they were taking a trolley of milk...so I tagged along.
There were about 15 of us congregated in front of the ward doors.
We were allowed in on the dot of 7.30.
Men to the left, ladies to the right...into the waiting room.
Nurses came and called out the names...I was left with two othe ladies.
We felt like the last broken biscuits in the box.
Eventually we were called through as well.
I was shown to a chair...there was a lovely fetching theatre gown on the table...and of course a load of paperwork.
A nurse came and introduced herself...she was going to be looking after me.
I was weighed, my height was measured....and I have grown half an inch.
Then my observations were checked....temp was normal, oxygen stats were spot on, pulse was good but my blood pressure was sky high.
215/110.... crikey Moses. The nurse said she would leave me to settle down and recheck it again.
This did not help at all...it just gave me time to ratchet it up a bit more.
I told the nurse that I have 'white coat Syndrome'....she told me that the high BP might mean that the op could not go ahead.
I told her that if I had to go home and come back another day, it might be worse.
The consultant had not yet arrived, but she said he would make the decision...but not to bother getting into the theatre gown.
I sat there mentally chewing my nails down to my elbows.
Soon a very pleasant young man came to see me...it was my consultant.
He checked me over and went through what was to happen...so I was going to be operated on after all.
I hurriedly got into my posh frock(!) and a pair of white stockings....I was given paper knickers (oh the ignominy)....and I was walked up to theatre.
Once in there I could see trays of shiny sharp steel....needles and vials all set out.
I was connected to a machine the flashed and beeped.
A BP cuff was put on my right arm.
They covered me in sterile green towels, made into a sort of turban.
I was painted with antiseptic solution.
My temple and the side of my cheek was infiltrated with local....and a little time was left for it to take effect.
Playing in the background was one of Chopin 's Nocturnes....then the surgeon tested the area.
Ow, ow, ow...there were still places that had feeling ....so more local was given.
Then I am sure I heard someone sharpening the knife on the back step.
The surgery took a little over an hour.
The stitches were put in to repair the hole....and then just to be sure the area was glued as well.
It was done, all over with....my BCC has been removed and I was ready to go back to the ward.
I was given a brew and biscuits and then discharged home.
I was back in my own surroundings by midday.
I have to take it easy for the next 48 hours....I am feeling a bit bruised and tender and I am held together with string and glue.
Phew, I am glad that is over with...and though it wasn't exactly fun, it was not as bad as I thought.

