It was difficult to sleep the night before the operation, but tried to get as much rest as possible – watching the German TV certainly helped me to loose consciousness during the evening……
The surgeon told me although there were some risks with the operation, it was a procedure they did on a regular basis and the risks were minimal – no worse than driving on the Autobahn, he said, which wasn't that reassuring as we’ve had a few scary experiences with speeding Porsches on the roads here………
My wife texted me to say that she’d was sure everything was going to be ok and that she’d be there to see me the next afternoon, straight after the operation.
From the lunchtime before, it was no food and only water to drink - they told me to be ready at eight am for the operation, and I was rolled off to the operating area of the clinic.
Then I had to scramble through a kind of window from the normal hospital bed onto the bed for the operating theatre. Then off to a pre-op room, where the anaesthetist talked to me and started to put some tubes in, then it all went blank…..
….until I was being wheeled through a ward - my wife was there, next to the bed in what turned out to be the intensive care unit. I could move my feet and legs, which was really good news, given that they had been operating on my spine, and seemed to indicate that the spinal cord was not damaged.
It turned out to be around late afternoon, I’d been out for most of the day. Taking stock, I found that everything felt ok, but that there was a large number of tubes attached to me, including a catheter. I was given water to drink – out of a plastic baby cup with a straw.
Because of all of the tubes, it was impossible for me to move much in the bed, but I could turn my head to watch the information on the monitor (pulse, blood pressure, temperature), which was reassuring to see and an improvement on the German TV.
Stuck into the ribcage on my left hand side was a heavy piece of metal which was helping to drain my lung – this was pretty painful and meant that any twisting or movement of the body was difficult.
In and out of consciousness for the first night in intensive care – everything seemed to be ok – the bags connected to the catheter and the drain were examined and emptied and the drip changed regularly.
The ‘portable’ X-Ray machine arrived the next morning to take a picture – without asking for help from the carers in the intensive care ward I was rolled onto my side, then the person taking the X-Ray forced the cold metal plate under my back causing a lot of pain, then the long-necked X-Ray machine was rolled into place above my body. The X-Ray plate was then pulled out from under me, causing more pain, and off they went.
Discussing the situation with one of the carers later in the day, it appeared that there was some dispute with the X-Ray people in the hospital at the weekend and that the person was from a different department in the hospital and wasn’t happy about having to cover this area too. He also told me that the X-Ray people didn’t work on Sunday, which meant that I’d have to wait until at least Monday for another X-Ray before I could leave intensive care.
The visiting times in the intensive care ward were much more restricted than in the normal ward, just an hour or two in the afternoon, but with the painkillers and recovering from the operation, I don’t remember much about the weekend in there, except it was not an experience I’m keen to repeat any time soon – so maybe I don’t want to remember much about it.
After a while, they gave me a button to administer my own painkiller which saved having to call the carer and wait for them to sort it out. The drugs did seem to reduce the pain by giving me a feeling like a protective blanket around me, but also some other strange mental affects too. On the Sunday night, it felt like there wasn’t too much pain so I stopped using the button – there were some odd effects of coming off the drugs, lots of sweating, it felt like time stopped, the hands of the clock on the wall seemed to not move, I’d close my eyes and think about something for what felt like minutes, then open my eyes again and the clock hadn’t moved!
Apart from the heavy metal drain in my side, and uncomfortable of my back against the sheets on the bed, there didn’t seem to be much pain and the hands on the clock slowly dragged themselves round to Monday morning.
A doctor came to look at the various tubes that were still in me and to remove the big metal thing on my side. I asked if they could take the catheter off as well – the carer said it was normally done later in the ward but the doctor told her to take it off then, so, with a quick pull, (OUCH) it was off.
Then, all that was needed was the new X-Ray, an all clear from the surgeon and I could escape from intensive care.
A much more caring X-Ray guy arrived, and with help from the carer, managed to put the plate under me and to remove it again without any pain at all; another couple of hours of waiting, then the word that the X-Ray looked good, so a couple of people arrived from the normal ward to wheel me away and out of the intensive care ward – it had only been three days but it felt like it had gone on for ever…..
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