It is THE morning, five o'clock sharp, was awoken by the nurses coming into the room. It is a bit of a strange feeling, i wish i could have said i had been waiting for this operation for the last six orvseven years and it is finally the time to get it done. Reality is of course that i have wished to lose a lot of weight to make my life easier, i have wished that for many, many years. This operation, though, came as a bit of a surprise, not planned, a final result of a number of improbable circumstances, by chance meetings and other happenings, it was an opportunity delivered on a silver platter. I took the chance.
Got my instructions to go and take my shower, use a special anti bacterial soap for hair and body, not to use any other products, no deodorant, no perfumes. Was happy for the surgeon and his team that it wasn't an eight hour operation, can u imagine..eight hours without deodorant?
I don't know if this is the place or the time to make this observation, but uhm, isn't every soap supposed to be anti-bacterial? I mean, like the great war monger said, if you're not with me, you're against me.... So if the soap isn't anti-bacterial, then is it pro-bacterial? Personally i think it is just a brilliant marketing gimmick. One brand of soap suddenly brings out a world astonishing anti-bacterial soap, and all the other brands had to follow, else the people wouldn't want to buy theirs again.
But i recall my previous operation turning out pretty good, and i had used the hospital's anti-bacterial soap, so why change a winning horse, eh? Or soap in this case! Shower done, teeth brushed, hospital shirt on. Gone back onto my freshly made up bed. Now waiting for my driver to take my bed and me to the operating room. Dum diddi dum dum... 5 minutes to seven.... And yes, they are on time, 7 o'clock and there he is, my driver.
I really do not know how to describe my state of mind at that point, because i was soooo relaxed. A reasonable person should at least have been a little bit nervous, but i wasn't, so i guess i was unreasonable? I don't know why, but i was not worried, i was not scared, and its not because i am a person with heroic ambitions or anything such, because i knew very well what they were about to do with me, how they were going to cut me, the possible problems i could have afterwards etc... I am starting to think that doing all the research before on this whole procedure, talking to the unbelievable cool people on Facebook, Twitter and email, people who i never met before but who were so very fantastic to share their experiences with me, that really, really helped me. Also read about others who had had problems, had an understanding of what the worst scenarios could be as well after the procedure. Then there was my wife who was very supportive, i had a team at home, i had my families in both europe and the caribbean who were supporting my decision. There was the great surgeon i happened to meet, the great nursing team i had experienced last year, i was safe! I felt safe! That all contributed to my relaxed state.
And off we went, through the corridors of the hotel, sorry, no, hospital! People on the side, visitors from other patients looking you into your face with a pity look on their own, not knowing if i am awake, if i have already been operated on or not. Into the elevator, far away now from "my" room, away from everything that could possibly comfort me, and lets be blunt, on the way to the people who are literally going to have my life in their hands.
Elevators stops, out we roll, i can see signs of "Intensive Care" flashing above my head as we roll on, and suddenly i see three doors and i am thinking "And what's behind door number one?" , yep, that's how relaxed i was. Turned out i got door number two, guys opened it as if they had cameras to see us coming, it was like a beehive inside there. Five guys prepping me in the anesthetics room. Hey, i was supposed to have my good looking anesthetics girl there who interviewed me weeks ago, that wasn't fair! Had to do it with the five guys now, okay, so i really didn't have to do anything, they were the ones who had to "do" it. Only thing i had to do was to move from my comfy bed onto the operating table. One of the guys introduced the team to me, ok, but forgive me for not remembering their names. Second guy strapped my legs to the bed "for during the operation". I guess they have had patients who woke up them during the operation and tried to walk off? He told me that it sometimes happens that people dream and try to act it out. He asked me if i have chosen my dream, i asked if i could see the menu of dreams then, he chuckled, saying they're good, but not that good yet. Maybe one day i told him in French. Another guy suddenly slid a plank like extension from under the bed and asked me to rest my arm on it so he could start prepping me. Then the next guy extended another part from the other side for my second arm and told me he would just strap it down for later as he will be going into my artery, but after i am asleep. Sure go ahead, strap me down, i tell you, i think a regular person would have freaked by then. but i was cool, i was soooo relaxed. I have never smoked anything but a cigarette in my life, but thinking back, i think now what it feels like to smoke heavier stuff, because i was sooo relaxed.
Then the mask went over my mouth, and i thought, bye bye world, Hasta la Vista! Turned out to be just oxygen, they said it was to oxygenate my body before the operation. One of the guys had apparently slipped out of the room and just came back in with the announcement that he was called away to another operation room. It was the guy who introduced me to the rest of the guys, ok, so still four guys left then i thought, should be enough! Not like i could object or complain, i had the mask over my mouth. Then a question came, did the surgeon sign me? What? Sign me? Oooh, yes, i recall that from last year. Apparently they had actually had two people with same name and similar birth date in the hospital for different operations by different doctors and yes, they got inadvertently switched. Since then the surgical team has to sign your body with a felt tip pen so the team would recognize it as being their patient before they operate. It was a standard procedure now. After a while one of the surgical team came in, took my mask off, asked me who i was, who my prof was, what my birthdate was and what operation i came in for. He then signed my body. Hey, when it comes to cutting my body i am very appreciative of all the procedures being followed, no complaints from me!
So still there, strapped in by feet and arms, naked under a sheet, four guys in the same room, a gas mask over my mouth and nose. I suddenly hear one of the guys saying in French... Ok, let's go with this! I was then instructed to start breathing deeply, i did. I thought that one of my veins was prepped for a chemical to put me to sleep, but i guess it is going to be gas today? Breath deeply sir! I did...but nothing happened, took another deep breath, I exhaled, and another one, but nothing ally happened, i was really doing my best! Then the door opened of the room, i expected the surgical team to come in, but it looked like only one person. Keep breathing deeply! I did! Hey, it looks like the female cute anestisiologiosisttttt....itsist....ist...finalllllleeee arhiveeddd... I was gone! Good night! Merry dreams!
Showing posts with label hospital. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospital. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Saturday, March 31, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, March 30, 2012
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!
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!
Monday, March 19, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
New places where the sun don't shine.
In preparation of this upcoming surgery I have to meet a number of professionals in the medical field for them to assess my complete program, my operation, healing process and guidance after.
I have already had blood tests doe, another day at the bloodsuckers department of the hospital...lol, recall, I was just in there last year and they pricked me so many times in arms and hands that they had no other options left anymore than to stick me in the feet. All my veins were already damaged in the arms and hands. So wasn't looking too much forward to this time, but all went fine, a little more painful than usual, but they hit then source with the first needle prick, which was good news in itself.
Then I had to get my lungs tested, had to go and blow in a machine which tested my lung capacity, and passed that with flying colors. The machine reminded me of an alcohol test (which they might have tested as well without telling me, lol...), but have never done such an alcohol test on the road, only seen it on TV, but that's okay, don't need the experience again, hospital version was quite satisfactory and I will count it as enough experience for now, thank you very much!
After that I had an appointment in the plastic surgeon' office. Was really wondering a bit what they would be doing there with me. I had concluded that as I would be losing a significant amount of weight over only one year, I would probably have an excess of skin which might need treatment of a plastic surgeon, I didn't know, so was kind of curious.
Turned out they just wanted to take pictures of me, hey (!) my very first "professional" photo shoot! I felt I was going places! So first a full frontal, then a profile, which I thought probably would be the less flattering of the two as my belly does reach beyond my belt buckle.
And then naked... What? Yep, well, almost then.... First time a woman other than my wife asked me to strip in front of her, I was alone in the room with her. Apparently I was smiling at the situation, cause she started smiling as well and asked me why I was smiling. She probably also noticed my face getting as red as her hair as I now stood in front of her, with only my boxer shorts.
She sat in front of me, on a barstool kind of chair, the swiveling kind, and suddenly reached forward to pull my boxers down. Yes, she did...ok, so not all the way down you perverts, she stopped under the curly hairline, but above the firehouse by means of a speaking...she said she wanted to see as much as possible on the picture. I though, yeah, if the roles had been the other way around I probably would have used the same excuse, professionally speaking of course!
After she had taken the pics, I dressed and le the room. They were doing some renovations on that floor and those guys saw this redhead nurse leave the room first, me minutes after with a red head and shirt probably still hanging out a bit.... I just saw their thoughts in their eyes!
Mind you, the red headed lady wasn't exactly miss universe 2012 eh... Well, like I am not mr. Universe either, you know! In this hospital the best looking women walking around (whenever my wife is not around, that speaks for itself!) seem to be the female doctors. The nurses are almost all extremely friendly, very helpful, most are very good at their jobs but not the soap series lookers of a nurse...
Last step for me that day was the anesthesiologist (thank god for spell checkers). Waited in the hallway for a good 40 minutes, thought after a while the doc had maybe turned the wrong valve in the office and gotten himself to fall asleep. But finally a door opened and another patient came out, door stayed open, and I was called in. Ok, so here's my luck, the first more than average good looking person I get the deal with and it's my anesthesiologist ...just my luck... Next times I am going to interact with her i will be sleeping away the hours, much to the joy and delight of my wife of course.
Got some good news and some bad news from her. Good news was that she had gotten results dorm my earlier tests that day and that all seems to be very a-ok! We are set to GO for the operation. Then she explained the procedure of the anesthesiology, what they will do to me during the operation, what tubes they will insert where etc.... And what to expect when I wake up, like the tube in my penis !!! Hello? Yes, what? Keeping my cool,she explains she, or rather her "team", which I now envision as a big tall hairy guy in my nightmares, or even two of them, will insert a tube into my penis so I don't have to get up to pee immediately after the operation. I nod with probably a clowneske expression on my face as to say:"but of course!"'.... Any other questions? I quickly said no and left the office before she comes with ideas where to put even more tubes yes! I am now expecting my wife having called that doc before my visit to scare the well, "P" out of me... I also looked for the candid camera and was ready to sign the re
Lease document for them to show my clip....but nothing of the sort...a tube it will be!
So that was my adventure at the hospital, the day before we left on holidays. Yes, I am with my wife in the Caribbean for the moment, but days after I get back, I still have appointment for a gastroscopy, oh I am so looking forward to that...NOT! Also scheduled to meet a psychologist, the bets are now on to see who leaves that office in a better mental state after our meeting. I have an insider tip for you if you are a betting person!
And then, my favorite people in the world, I am also due to meet with a dietician. Oh my God, have I had fun with those people in my younger years. In school we had a yearly visit to a doctor and a talk with a dietician was on my schedule eve time. The funniest part was to see the dietician fatter and fatter every year, and her admin people always winked at me as if to say "you survived her nonsense for another year?".
So stick around, fun times ahead, will keep you up to date!
I have already had blood tests doe, another day at the bloodsuckers department of the hospital...lol, recall, I was just in there last year and they pricked me so many times in arms and hands that they had no other options left anymore than to stick me in the feet. All my veins were already damaged in the arms and hands. So wasn't looking too much forward to this time, but all went fine, a little more painful than usual, but they hit then source with the first needle prick, which was good news in itself.
Then I had to get my lungs tested, had to go and blow in a machine which tested my lung capacity, and passed that with flying colors. The machine reminded me of an alcohol test (which they might have tested as well without telling me, lol...), but have never done such an alcohol test on the road, only seen it on TV, but that's okay, don't need the experience again, hospital version was quite satisfactory and I will count it as enough experience for now, thank you very much!
After that I had an appointment in the plastic surgeon' office. Was really wondering a bit what they would be doing there with me. I had concluded that as I would be losing a significant amount of weight over only one year, I would probably have an excess of skin which might need treatment of a plastic surgeon, I didn't know, so was kind of curious.
Turned out they just wanted to take pictures of me, hey (!) my very first "professional" photo shoot! I felt I was going places! So first a full frontal, then a profile, which I thought probably would be the less flattering of the two as my belly does reach beyond my belt buckle.
And then naked... What? Yep, well, almost then.... First time a woman other than my wife asked me to strip in front of her, I was alone in the room with her. Apparently I was smiling at the situation, cause she started smiling as well and asked me why I was smiling. She probably also noticed my face getting as red as her hair as I now stood in front of her, with only my boxer shorts.
She sat in front of me, on a barstool kind of chair, the swiveling kind, and suddenly reached forward to pull my boxers down. Yes, she did...ok, so not all the way down you perverts, she stopped under the curly hairline, but above the firehouse by means of a speaking...she said she wanted to see as much as possible on the picture. I though, yeah, if the roles had been the other way around I probably would have used the same excuse, professionally speaking of course!
After she had taken the pics, I dressed and le the room. They were doing some renovations on that floor and those guys saw this redhead nurse leave the room first, me minutes after with a red head and shirt probably still hanging out a bit.... I just saw their thoughts in their eyes!
Mind you, the red headed lady wasn't exactly miss universe 2012 eh... Well, like I am not mr. Universe either, you know! In this hospital the best looking women walking around (whenever my wife is not around, that speaks for itself!) seem to be the female doctors. The nurses are almost all extremely friendly, very helpful, most are very good at their jobs but not the soap series lookers of a nurse...
Last step for me that day was the anesthesiologist (thank god for spell checkers). Waited in the hallway for a good 40 minutes, thought after a while the doc had maybe turned the wrong valve in the office and gotten himself to fall asleep. But finally a door opened and another patient came out, door stayed open, and I was called in. Ok, so here's my luck, the first more than average good looking person I get the deal with and it's my anesthesiologist ...just my luck... Next times I am going to interact with her i will be sleeping away the hours, much to the joy and delight of my wife of course.
Got some good news and some bad news from her. Good news was that she had gotten results dorm my earlier tests that day and that all seems to be very a-ok! We are set to GO for the operation. Then she explained the procedure of the anesthesiology, what they will do to me during the operation, what tubes they will insert where etc.... And what to expect when I wake up, like the tube in my penis !!! Hello? Yes, what? Keeping my cool,she explains she, or rather her "team", which I now envision as a big tall hairy guy in my nightmares, or even two of them, will insert a tube into my penis so I don't have to get up to pee immediately after the operation. I nod with probably a clowneske expression on my face as to say:"but of course!"'.... Any other questions? I quickly said no and left the office before she comes with ideas where to put even more tubes yes! I am now expecting my wife having called that doc before my visit to scare the well, "P" out of me... I also looked for the candid camera and was ready to sign the re
Lease document for them to show my clip....but nothing of the sort...a tube it will be!
So that was my adventure at the hospital, the day before we left on holidays. Yes, I am with my wife in the Caribbean for the moment, but days after I get back, I still have appointment for a gastroscopy, oh I am so looking forward to that...NOT! Also scheduled to meet a psychologist, the bets are now on to see who leaves that office in a better mental state after our meeting. I have an insider tip for you if you are a betting person!
And then, my favorite people in the world, I am also due to meet with a dietician. Oh my God, have I had fun with those people in my younger years. In school we had a yearly visit to a doctor and a talk with a dietician was on my schedule eve time. The funniest part was to see the dietician fatter and fatter every year, and her admin people always winked at me as if to say "you survived her nonsense for another year?".
So stick around, fun times ahead, will keep you up to date!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)