The Driver!

It is 6 o'clock in the evening the day before the the day of the operation. I was told i could eat whatever i want before the operation, but that i would only be allowed what i get from the hospital from the time i check in.

That was a pretty good deal i found, as i had heard about others having to diet for weeks or even months prior to the operation. As said previously, the only drawback of having the operation earlier meant that i was missing out on a weekend full of comfort food which i had planned, but at the end, that was a small thing to give up for the benefits i was going to receive by this operation.

I checked into the hotel, sorry, the hospital at around 4PM and, said goodbeys to wifey who departed on her transatlantic flight. Tried to get myself well installed by putting my stuff away in the locker cupboard and side table so i would be able to reach what i needed from bedside without having to move too much. Checked how far i could reach with the left arm and the right arm.  Was smart enough to bring my own extension cable to connect my Blackberry and new Ipad easily to the wall from bedside. Ha! Learned that from the last visit!

I did not carry any snacks for this overnight adventure, so i found myself traveling quite light this time. Had underwear, tshirts, socks, slippers, toilet bag and some other stuff maybe to, but only needed the last two as i was to be dressed in a hospital shirt (only) anyhow for the operation and days after it, so i was told. Talking about the hospital shirt... So here's me, not grossly over obese like some other people i have seen, checking in for a gastric bypass. Now, as a nurse you know you have two sizes of shirts, big and medium... Are you really going to ask me to pu on a medium? Thanks for the compliment, lol, but really....lol!  Now, note that all those shirts only close with one small button at the back, that is, if the two pieces at the back can reach each other, else guess who was mooning my sweet old man neighbor? Yes, so i asked for the bigger version of the shirt, wouldn't want my neighbor to suddenly get very talkative for the wrong reasons, now would i!

Hold on there, i forgot to introduce my "neighbor" in the room. Last time i was bedridden in this room i had a young fellow as a neighbor, not too talkative, he never got any visitors and had told me his wife was pregnant and he had a kid which was overactive. He was cool, even exchanged numbers when he left, but we never stayed in touch.

This time i appeared to have somebody in the room who was considerably older than me. He stayed quiet in his corner, the nurses told him he is getting a new neighbor as i walked into the room. All i got was half a smirk. Nevertheless , i pleasantly wished him a very good evening, he wished me back the same. It was clear that we were not going to become bosom friends or anything like that, but i didn't mind, as long as he stayed reasonably silent at night i would not have a problem.

Now for something else, check this...not only did my wife have to go traveling whilst i have the operation, she also had to leave me behind with the notion that one of the cuter nurses had recognized me from last year's operation.... hahaha, hum, ok, so that was not funny, strike the laughter from the notes, your honor! Feather in their hat though that they recognize people they have dealt with in the past. Some of the other nurses were unsure if they should recognize me or not, they thought they did, but maybe from the grocery, ballet class, the swimming pool maybe? Ok, scrap ballet class, i definitely do not look like a guy who visits ballet classes that often, but still, some looked at me with a "like i have to know you, but i don't know from where" look. Anyhow, was fun to see that some did remember me, my wife did not appreciate it as much as i did though.

Now i was starting to get hungry, but i am focused! I will NOT walk down to the cafeteria to snack on something. As those thoughts were going through my mind somebody knocked on the door, in came the kitchen people with my last meal. Hmmm, my "last meal" eh? No, i think not, i will accept it as the last one pre-operation, and i am sticking with that! So lets see what i got, potatoes with minced meat rolled into a sliver of veal and green string beans. It all tasted quite alright,  even got a small desert with it and washed it all down with a healthy glass of mineral water of an excellent year 2012!

I noticed my neighbor didn't get any food. Felt sorry for him and didn't dare to talk to him about the food because i did not know how he would react. We actually did not speak to each other for the rest of the evening, he stayed hidden behind the curtain that separated our two beds, but i did catch him peeping sometimes to my side of the room. We'll see, i thought, how it goes next days, i was pretty selfish at this time, just concentrating on eating my meal, making sure i don't overeat, over drink and that i chew everything plenty. Not that i had been told to do so, but it just made good sense to me. I was being at my best behavior and did not want anything to disturb this yoga type of mental state i had put myself into for the operation. I was focused, stress free and determined. I turned on the TV and the choices were french, italian, german, even arabic stations if i wanted, oh, yes, and also CNN and CNBC  in english, you know, those two stations with exhilarating programming which can keep you occupied for hours if need be, yeah right...lol

Aaaand here's my brother, he arrived. Flew in just to come and keep me company. The best brother in the world! Brought me greets and magz from back home. He was allowed to keep me company for a couple of hours, then i sent him home by me where i arranged some baby back ribs for him. Dare i say, slightly better menu than i got...hahaha

Anyhow, it was almost 9h30PM now. Again common sense prevailed, gotta go to sleep because i know they are waking me up the next morning at 5AM and maybe they will even come and disturb ole grumpy and me in the middle of the night for vitals of my dear neighbor. I was right. 2AM reaches way too quick to my liking, grumpy got his vitals taken, nurses back out, me back to sleep, yes!

Lights on, it's 5AM, wake up time in military school, in prisons and yes, for me in hospital as well! Nurse comes to my bedside to ask me if i want to go and shower as i am being picked up at 7AM for the operation. Ooooh, yes, that's what i am here for? An operation? Yeah, duh! Well, got myself up, proudly assembled everything i needed for shower and change. Remember? I had stowed away everything properly last night? Was as proud as Mr. Bean would have looked, with a big smile on my face, ready for that shower! Oh, let's first check what size shirt i got to change into, cause did not feel like getting out of the bathroom half naked to beg for a bigger shirt! Ok, shirt is good! Then nurse tells me i cannot use my own soap, have to use a special anti-bacterial soap from the hospital, no deodorants, no perfumes, but was allowed to brush my teeth! So there i was, all ready with my properly stuffed toilet bag and all i was allowed to use was my own toothbrush and toothpaste...oh, well!

Mr. Grumpy had not been asked to go and wash himself, i figured by then he had had his operation already, but what? I was in the visceral section of the hospital, i figured it wasnt the same as me, unless he lost 40 kgs in the last three days since his operation, which was extremely unlikely. I would, i figured, find out at some point what had happened to him.

Anyhow, back to me! Have showered, am clean, new shirt, so just went on the bed to wait now for the butchering hour. Minutes passed, plenty of them and then there was a next knock on the door. No kidding, i am in Geneva, it is 7 o'clock on the dot! These Suise don't make joke with heir timing! It was my "driver". This hospital is so big that they have a department of drivers who do nothing else but drive patients around the hospital on their beds. It is taken very serious, as these drivers actually have training and practical exams to do before they are allowed on the corridors with patients in those big beds. I can also see why, those beds are huge, wide and heavy. If you bounce anything, the patient will get whiplashed and the object hit would suffer too. As i was being "driven" to my operating room, i could not help but satisfy my inner curiosity by asking the fellow how long it takes an average person to learn the location of all the departments of the hospital, all the test rooms, all the lab rooms and investigation areas for patients. He told me about two months, just for this department of the hospital, but it can take up to a year to get to know the whole hospital. Wow! Had i had a drink available i would have called for a CHEERS with the glass up in the air hoping he brings me to the correct operating room so they don't bring me wrongly into a room where they try a cesarian on me trying to find a baby in my big belly!
Anyhow, it seems like i reached the anestethic's room, the one next to the operating room, this is it, so it seems, it's going to happen.

Prepping for the operation, it is serious business!

Less than a week before "D" day of my operation I get a call from my surgeon. He tells me:"I have good news for you!". Good news? What could possibly be "good news" from a person who is about to cut your insides to pieces and then puzzle it back together again? My brain quickly interprets that as it could be nothing else but: "You don't have to do the surgery again because we juuuuuust developed a pill yesterday evening which you could take for a couple of weeks and lose all the weight that way!"

Yeah, so no such thing. Instead it went more like this:"Well, usually, if I have to call patients it is to tell them that I have to postpone their operation. On your planned operation date of next week Monday I have had to reschedule my work and perform an urgent, very invasive cancer surgery, so I would not be able to do yours. But as I said, you are lucky, I can do yours earlier rather than later! How's this Friday? Can you can arrange your life around it?"
Gulp!
Me:"well, of course I understand that the cancer patient has all priority, and by all means, yes, please go ahead. I will have to talk to "The Boss" though regarding Friday as she will be traveling. I promise to call back within a half hour."
Gulp again! And there goes my last weekend of pigging out...hahaha, I thought! I had so planned to go and have a fondue here in Switzerland, and have a McDonalds or two before that is cut out of my menu for months to come!

But had to set priorities straight. I had not heard mentioning of any another definitive alternative date during my short conversation with the prof if I chose not to do it on the Friday. I rather had the impression it was more a "do it now.....or maybe some time in the future" choice. So my choice, personally, was made up immediately. Like Mae West said:"Those who hesitate come last". By the way, not that i am such a big fan of Mae West or anything, just noticed some poor twitter soul post that this morning and thought that would look cool on my blog right here! Admit it, before you read this explanation of why i inserted it, you were subconsciously admiring my ability to come up with a fitting quote, eh? Anyhow.....

Now it was time to break it gently to wifey. Poor thing has had a couple of career changes in last years, now again building a new career,with a  hubby who isn't doing much except for being in hospital and recuperating, she has a  big trip planned for work, and now I have to go and tell her that whilst she is on a transatlantic flight, I will be having a possibly five hour operation. Again... I was more concerned about her willingness to accept this now yet again, rather than being concerned about the operation itself. She has been a jewel, a diamond amongst women, and has after all made it possible for me to undergo this operation. For me, therefore, it was of the utmost importance that she felt somehow comfortable in this whole situation, in for her, most non-comforting circumstances. I think, yes, the usually cool me, would have gone bonkers,  if I would have had to go flying for work whilst my wife was having a quite invasive surgery.

There is a big difference though. In this case I have been contemplating such or likewise surgery for years really. I was so relaxed about this surgery, firstly because I was mentally ready for it and secondly because I was very confident in the surgeon and the nursing team. After all, I had experienced the whole team just last year when they removed my gall bladder whilst treating me for a pancreatitis, and trust me, if you ever do need to get operated on, this is the place you want to be!

So with all the sales skills I have, the diplomacy of a professional and with one of the hardest sells of my life, I was able to convince my wifey that doing it, that operation whilst she was traveling, was the best thing to do. I had a sell, I convinced her and I was happy!

Called the prof back and told him it was a go ahead! Date was set, would go in on Thursday evening, that is, wifey would drop me to the hospital on her way to the airport, virtually tuck me in, and then it was up to me.

I also knew I had Sarah I could count on, Mr. Dias who would do anything to help out and my wifes staff at work who could be a rescue team if need be. My wife also pleaded for my brother to come over just for the operation so there would be somebody who is at ease in the French language, family, just in case things would go wrong and any decisions would have to be made. And last but not least, my mummy would be there days after the operation for the extra tender loving care if need be. I was in good hands!
Knowing my brother would be there, knowing the good professional team was available, it set my wife's emotions just over the brink of leaving me in good hands whilst she travels. People have told me i am brave to willingly do this operation without having an acute need to do so, I say I was not the brave one, for me it was no more than logic, the brave ine was my wife, and hats off to her!

Checked in, got shown to my room and my bed. You would have noticed there wasn't that much funny about this process, as nothing really seemed funny, this was real, it was serious!

Only curious fact was that i happened to land in exactly the smae room and exactly the same bed as last year's operation, to me that was a good, comforting sign. I was ready now!

Tough goodbye's with wifey, lying alone now, on my hospital bed with my hospital shirt on, browsing what the TV could bring.... Yep, this was serious, no laughing matter at all!

The Dietician, the Bad or the Ugly

I guess, for most of my life, dieticians have not been my best friends. One could say for obvious reasons. So that makes that my visit to this dietician was met with some form of apprehension from my side, expecting this professional to come and lecture me  on what to do and what not to do to lose weight.

My experience with dieticians dates back to early school days when we had a compulsory day at the clinic, every two years i believe, where all kids six years and up would be checked from top to toe to see if everything is in good order. And so i as well, got regular check-ups up to the age of about twelve. Tests included body checks,  psychological tests and the usual talk with the dietician, which for me usually was the climax. Every time we went we got the same dietician and every time she would lecture me on calorie intakes, the necessity of physical exercise and the healthy foods to eat instead of the greasy, oily or sugar foods pushed by our commercial society. It was a very depressing talk, every time again, because it would mean to give up on all of the good stuff in life, just to get a bit thinner? My understanding of life at that point had other goals, i am afraid.

And with repeat lectures every time by the dietician, maybe some truths of life would have sunk in eventually, had it not been that the dietitian, a woman by the way, was getting, let's say " more bodily rounded" every time i saw her? Yes, you can stop smirking now, i was not allowed to smirk either when i was in her office. I was even self trained to keep a very serious face, evolving into an overall depressed look by the time i left her office quarters, you know, just as if to show that the lessons had sunk in deep. Her secretary, seated just outside her office, told me on my last visit not to take the dietician too seriously either, cause she had seen the dietician eat many unhealthy things for lunch and that her favorite snack was chocolate, if you could call it snacking still because she turned to her vice much more often than she would want the world to believe. Ha! Gotcha, Mrs. Dietician, betrayed by your own staff.

So as i got bigger over the years, what was i to do, go back to a dietician? There really was nothing a dietician could tell me that i didn't know myself already, eat less, eat healthier, do more sports.

And here i am, scheduled for the gastric bypass at age 46, and now having to meet a dietician again, you can imagine my apprehension and gumption to see this person. Anyhow, arrived at same hospital again and asked at the reception desk where i could find said dietician and they directed me to the third floor, yes, via the orange elevators (see my post on the psychologist) and to ask the reception there to guide me further. I arrived there and this next reception told me to go all the way to the end of the hallway, then take a left and you will see a secretary there. So did my long walk and found the secretary, but this secretary told me that yes, they do have dieticians there, but none by that name. I showed her the letter of invitation i got and she told me she would look it up in the hospital database. No such dietician on the database. The secretary then offered to call the number on the letter but got an answering machine instead, so no help there. I had no better idea than to go back to the bariatric department, to the people who wrote me the letter, for sure they would know where i can find this person? I figured if i go down this huge staircase two flights and then take similar long corridor backtracking what i did on the third floor, then i would land pretty close, at least. I was right, hadn't it been that there was a wall between me and where i wanted to reach, a pretty new wall too, freshly painted. Cuss, cuss, damn, damn, so figured i best backtrack the whole way now to the first receptionist, else i am going to get completely lost in this huge building.

On a separate note, when you are a patient, hospitalized and you are bedridden ,  there are "chauffeurs", drivers, who will push you from your room on your bed to your next appointment in a next department. I asked a couple of them how long it took them to know all the rooms, all the departments, all the technical rooms of the hospital. The answers varied from two to three months up to even a year for the specialist things. Just wanted you to get an idea of the size of this hospital!

So having backtracked my paces i found the secretariat who issued my invitation letter to see the dietician. To my surprise this secretary as well said she didn't know exactly where this dietician was located, so she called the head of the department who was so kind to come to the office and guide me to the dietician's quarters. This department head, professional as she is, and in line with good hospital practice  asked if i could do stairs instead of elevators. My macho reply....OF COURSE! Up four floors we went, eight staircases if one would want to count. By the time we arrived there, in another building, on another floor, i was sure i had lost half a kilo of body weight. Let this dietician tell me i need to do more physical exercise..HA!

I was put to wait outside the door of the dietician and it's kind of funny, because there were different services on both sides of the corridor, at least three or four different offices from different doctors, each with their speciality. That is when the eye game starts, i am sure you are familiar with it. One one hand you have the doctors who are waiting for patients who may be late and they are wondering if you are the person. On the other hand there is me, watching everybody in a white coat suspiciously to see if they would go into the office i am supposed to go into as that may be my dreaded dietician. Not to forget, there are the other patients, looking at each newcomer and staring them down with a look of:"And if you think that you are going to skip the line in front of me, you have another thing coming!". So there is a psychological war going on between all the eyes involved, nobody really knowing what the prize of winning will bring.

There comes the next white coat, a lady, a head smaller than me, blondish hair, skinny and she goes into the office of the dietician. I just sat there as she was obviously not as anxious as the other docs to get a patient into her quarters, i was still early after all. I like being early, it gives me the opportunity to scan areas and to learn from experiences. My brother always jokes at me being early and he wasn't even convinced about getting the worm if you're early. His philosophy is rather that one doesn't have to be early, but rather better to get the worm. He may have a point. But i am sure that if i ask the dietician about who gets the worm she would say that both my brother and i would be fine without the worm!

The skinny lady was then apparently my dietician, just my luck. I got up and presented myself and then we had a nice talk. To my surprise she told me absolutely nothing negative about my weight, she complimented me on the choice of doing the operation and gave me some info about what to expect after the operation and what my temporary diet would be like. She told me i would be drinking plenty juices, water and tea, most foods will be like baby foods for the first days and only later i can add some soft cereals to the mix. She was very helpful with any info i needed, or questions i had. She also explained this thing called the dumping effect. With the bypass surgery, an actual bypass is created from the stomach to the small intestines. The stomach itself, which would normally be one to even two liters content wise, would be made smaller to a maximum content of 33 centiliters, about the size of a coke can. What can happen though, is that if one eats too much food, or undigested sugars for example, the the food is pushed right through to the small intestines. These intestines then in turn make an alarm to the brain and asks it to redirect water from the whole body immediately to the small intestines, and that is a feeling over the whole body which apparently is not a nice one to come across.

But in how far dieticians go, this was actually a very pleasant, cordial visit, without misconceptions of life or unrealistic expectations of life changes needed.

Side note: Between finishing this post and today, i have already had the operation, and all went well. The prof called me that my operation was four days early due to circumstances. I will update you on the operation and days after as soon as i get more energy to write.

No Funeral House on the list!

So the magical day finally arrived, my first ever visit with a psychiatrist. For those who have not read my previous blog posts, no, i have not gone totally bonkers as yet, it was a visit in preparation of my gastric bypass operation. It was the second to last visit of specialists i had to go through and it was the objective that the psychiatrist would do an evaluation to see if i am not only physically, but foremost also mentally prepared for the operation and the years after.

I was undeniably a bit nervous for this "interview"' I will admit, and i think it was because i could "fail" it. Failing it would have meant that he would have thought that I would not be able to take on the stresses and the life changes that this operation would bring along. Nevertheless, that day, i woke up, had my shower, didn't brush my teeth any different from any other day and got a drop to the hospital.

Having arrived, i went to ask at the reception where the psychiatric ward was. I had an invitation letter in my hands, in a hospital envelope and suddenly saw the point of view of the receptionist with me asking that question. Here is this suspiciously smiling guy with an invitation letter asking for where the psychiatric ward may be.... How can i get him going in the right direction without making a commotion right here at the reception desk?

She smiled right back at me and told me to go to the second floor, following the blue line to the orange elevators. Heh, yeah, right, sure... The orange elevators, of course, why didn't i think of that one myself!

I was about 30 minutes early, nothing abnormal for me, I'm  usually early for any meeting and things would have had to go awkwardly wrong if i ever arrive late for a meeting. But having that extra half hour, i thought it would be a good idea to go and look for those orange elevators, and lets not forget the blue line!

Seemed the lady at the desk actually knew what she was talking about, the darling, the orange elevators actually existed, so i took them to the second floor. I came out and there was staring at me, the reception desk for the psychiatric department.

For some totally crazy reason, a weird please to go and announce your arrival. But hey, i still had twenty minutes left and i did have to go to the bathroom, so why not take advantage of the situation as there was a toilet area facing me just on the opposite side of the orange elevators. Good idea to go to the bathroom in a hospital? In a psychiatric department? Well, i was still in "neutral" area, so thought it couldn't be too bad an experience, and hey, at least it wasn't next to the cafeteria where absolutely everybody pays visits after downing all the coffees. It was after all also still early in the morning, so in I went.
Being a hotel management graduate, and an airport management specialist, I do have experience with frequently visited toilets, and proper precautions dictate that wiping the seat is the minimum one can do before taking seat. Placing paper on the seat is a second precautionary step, so i also did that and took place on my throne away from home. Then, suddenly somebody switched off all the lights, yes, ALL the lights, pitch dark it was! I could have sworn that i was the only person in the toilet?
Recap time, i am just outside the psychiatric area, in a bathroom with toilet paper in my hands as last defense for anything that could happen. There was audibly nobody else in the gents bathroom, but maybe they were "testing" me to see if i could hold things up when stressed or if i would run out screaming and get an "F" on my report one time? Then i heard some slight chatter in the room next door, presumably the ladies room, and then a "click" and the lights went back on. Good try ladies, but it will take more than that to woosh me of my throne of bravery. Now, seriously, of all the times for this to happen to me, just outside of a psychiatric area opposite the orange elevators? A master switch for all the lights in the women's bathroom? Oh come on!

So with that bathroom episode behind me, i went in line to announce my arrival to the department, yep, in line.... So that means, behind others, other what? I can only suppose. Waited in line for some minutes before it was my turn, and when the next friendly receptionist (hey, hold on, did she turn off my lights earlier? Eh?) took time to address my needs i was simply told i didn't have to register, just to go to the end of the corridor, turn left and see the secretary there. So said, so done, and when i found that secretary she smiled at me again, i guess she was also taking the safe approach to this new individual coming into her office, cant blame her...hahaha, poor woman didn't know about my bathroom experience.
After some admin matters, she asked me to take place in the little waiting area outside in the corridor. I am easy, so I complied, still was ten minutes early by that time. In the same waiting area was a young woman, also waiting as a patient, I supposed, she was patiently waiting...yeah, ok, lets not go there. I was kind of relieved of all the previous stress there, i was willing to let the cards fall whichever way they did, nothing could bring me out of my concentration for the interview at that point. Now, i wouldn't make note of that if nothing was less true there, now would I ?

This young lady sitting, waiting there, yes, patiently, reading a hospital magazine with the utmost interest, so deeply entranced (should i use that word for anything on that hospital floor?) didn't even see it fit to answer my hello, but i really wasn't going to insist, not on that floor! She did although suddenly jump up, throw the magazine on the table and rush to another corridor, as if she suddenly was late for an appointment, yes, and then returned to read her magazine. She did that a couple of times. After a while she was invited by four doctors to come along, and honestly, it looked to me as if she was applying for a job or something, well, lol, she would fit right in!

There was also the other secretary, a second one in another office, with open doors,  who passed both of us straight when going to the bathroom without saying hello, nor hello again when she came back.
With all these unfriendly people around, i couldn't blame my co-patient/interviewee for delving into her magazine, as i found myself staring down my blackberry, hoping for something fun to read.

And the suddenly:"HHHHaatsheeewww!!!!!!" ... From the corner of the unfriendly secretary's office, a sneeze, so loud that I think even three corridors further echoes of it would have been heard. My co-patient and i both looked up and saw the secretary on all fours, on the floor, between her chair and her desk, looking at us both as we said, in a cool way, both together:"Bless You!".....

Recap II : She had obviously dropped something on the floor and whilst trying to find it got dust in her nose and was caught on her hands and knees by possibly psychiatric patients...poor girl i thought.... I also thought, nice try, i am not going to get distracted from my interview... I am all concentration!

And then the moment came, the psychiatrists door opened, the previous patient came out, looking left and right, i don't know if she was expecting a car in the corridor or something, good grief, anyway, it was my turn now! I am prepared, nothing can blow me from my pedestal!

Yeah, so how do you like a psychiatrist in a wheelchair for a change? Yes, My psychiatrist came rolling out of his office to come and greet me.... Honestly, never wanted to smile so hard in my life and still managed to keep it in...hahaha, the things they try!

Anyhow, psychiatrist was a very nice older fellow, just had a chat with me to verify and make sure that i understand what this operation will do to me physically, that i agree to it and to check if i have family support. Also to see if i think i will able to cope with then resulting changes after the operation, how my diet will change, how my body will change, and how i will need to find other things to preoccupy myself in different ways instead of eating or snacking.

I passed the test with flying colors and he told me he would write my prof a positive recommendation for me to go forward with the operation.

I will tell you, all kidding aside, that i do feel very comfortable with the operating team, all the specialists I have met during the pre-operative interviews and it is good to know that there is a team ready for me, whatever happens along the line. Also good news, they did not add gravediggers or funeral arrangers to the list of people i have to meet before then operation, and that has settled a lot of my nerves as well.

Off to the dietician next!