The days after my operation were very uneventful in the hospital, but there are maybe some things worth mentioning regarding the start of the recovery period.
Had done some research before the whole event and was prepared for the stomach cramps, the gastric dumping effect, the pains in general. I think i got myself into a state of accepting the worst case scenario, maybe it was a psychological defense i had built for my own acceptance of whatever happens after, i don't know.
The day of my operation, whilst back in my room, the only real "inconvenience" i really had was the tube which was inserted to flow my urine into a container so i wouldn't have to actually go to the bathroom or move and squiggle to use a bed pan. If you are wondering where it was inserted..i can only confirm a steady yes! Apart from that there was not much of other inconveniences to talk about, just the usual stuff i suppose when you are in a hospital, the tubes for the drips, the multiple injections of morphine (but hey, i will take that above any other pain any day!), the blood tests, had to wear an extra oxygen supply with the little tubies in the nose. I don't. Know, i guess it all has to do with the expectation levels. All that was part of my expectations, so it did not bother the hell out of me, like for instance it did for "The ugly naked man" net to me. (see my previous posts).
I am now going to expressly convey my apologies to him, should he ever come to read this, because caling him Mr. Grumpy and the ugly naked man was not nice of me. During the days i spent with him on the room, i very slowly got to know him a bit more. His real name for example was Mr. Bachman, not that he told me, i heard his nurses calling him that. He would do no more than tell me the casual good morning, hello or good night, but inly if i spoke to him first. But this man was suffering, i learnt over the days.
You see, when i went in last year, i had this young fellow as my room mate and he was gone on day two of me being in the room. I had expected Mr. Bachman to leave me the same way i suppose. Instead, he stayed very calmly in his bed, minding his own business. His drips machine would alarm because he would make a bad move and then a nurse would come to reset it. Then it would happen again, and again, and then i noticed he wouldn't care anymore, he would just let the machine keep ringing the annoying alarm tone and he would not call the nurses again. So i started calling the nurses for him, okay, and for me, cause the annoying beep was starting to irritate me too. But i started to think there was more to it than that. Then, unfortunately for him, he had a nurse come in on a morning, right there at peak nursing time, and that is when i hear him telling the nurses that "moral is low". Is said, unfortunately, because the nurse did not pick up his comment. She just said it's looking like a nice day out there and sun is coming.
His comment stuck in my head though. I had also noticed that he did not get many visitors, he was a bit of a loner. Then an older lady came to visit him, and i learned that she is a retired podiatrist, so at least a person with a medical background. I learned she was a neighbor offering to take care of his mail at home and other sundries for him. He made similar comments to her regarding being of low moral., but almost fell asleep talking to her, probably due to an injection he had gotten before. She then sneaked out of the bedroom and i saw the opportunity to talk to her. I told her about my observations and she thanked me, she said she would have a talk with the nurses.
Things changed for Mr. Bachman, that evening he got a visit of his specialist, same as mine, he gave him some pep talk and that seemed to help. The prof also offered him sleeping pills to get better night rest as Mr. Bachman said he found the nights took so long. The next night when i woke up from the nurses, i noticed he was huffing, puffing and turning in his bed, wrestling with his drips and mumbling. I took the initiative to remind him he could ask for the sleeping pills, i was really feeling sorry for him. He did not take me on to ask for them, but he did tell me a bit about himself at that point, how he had been in the room three days before i had arrived, that he had come in for a small operation and that he seems to be worse off that when he had come in. He told me about all the pills he had to take, more than ever in his life, all the injections he hated. I told him to hang in there and to make sure he gets a good night's rest as that is very important for his recovery. He had by the way also told me that he was seventy five years old, a very respectable age. One statement Mr. Bachman made stuck with me and that was that he came in healthy into the hospital and look at him now. Not long after our little chat he dozed off and slept for the rest of the night. I think i was able to take some pressure off his self pitying mind with the little chat we had. The next morning he was visibly better after the hours of sleep he had enjoyed.
The point i am trying to make are the expectation level differences between him and myself. I came in expecting the worst and he came in expecting the easiest of things. Of course i can not compare my convalescence period with that of a considerable older man, but i do believe now that the mind plays a very big part in the healing process of the body.
I cannot write this blog without mentioning Michel, my best friend to be. You should have seen the elation on my wife's face when she discovered that Michel, and that's without the double LLe, was to be the nursing assistant assigned to my room for most of my stay. Michel would be the one taking care of my personal hygiene, would make up my bed, do my weigh ins and take care of sundry other needs i may have during my stay. For those who may not realize, in French, Michel, without the double LLe, is a first name for a guy, not a woman! Yes, hence the elation clearly visible on my wide's face when she found out. How would i describe Michel? Let's just say he seems very, very Happy! He is an older fellow, a head smaller than me, greying and balding, actually would have been a great companion for Mr. Bachman as i think that Michel would not stand for any sh!t that Mr. Bachman would come up with, lol. I heard some of the other nurses say "oh, well if it's Michel that wanted it that way, then we better do it that way!", which showed me some of his character and probably also his seniority in the organization.
So who am i to refuse when Michel asks me if i want him to wash my back? Like i would dare to refuse Michel? He had me sit on the edge of the bed, unbuttoned my shirt from the back and gave me gentle but firm enough rinsing of my back, my arms, under my arms, but i do think he should carry a little graph explaining where back ends and buttocks start in the average male!
Oh, and i have not told you yet about the latest fashion for patients in hospitals, the stockings! So somebody had this great idea that to avoid getting blood clots in the legs, everybody who is spending time in the hospital bed should wear long nylon stockings. It avoids the legs from swelling. All good and well, but there are three main problems with these stockings:
1. No way you are putting on those stocking by yourself. I will use the excuse of my stomach operation, but hat off to the ladies who wear long stockings every day!.
2. the stockings are long, no ankle thing or knee things, it's a the whole way thing!
3. So I needed the nurse or assistant nurse to help me. The procedure is that i lie on my back, lift up my foot and point my toes. Then the nurse puts on the foot of the stocking, holds hands on both sides of my leg and in one shrug pulls the stocking all the way up to my buttocks.
Now, take item two, and referring to item three, then mix in the Michel effect...okay? I think you are starting to get the picture now! And you can stop smirking too! Luckily i had underwear on by then!
Keep tuned... :-)
Showing posts with label nurse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nurse. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
I made it!
"Ca vas?"
A guy is staring into my face.
It seems like my operation is over and done with! I am awake! I made it!
I have absolutely no clue what was done to me, how it went, how long it took and even exactly where i was. Somehow though, i had enough sense already to realize that i am in the recovery room.
Way too close for comfort, that male nurse's head is hanging over mine to see if i am doing alright. I mean, he is cleanly shaven and such, but still. He looked a bit like from a French B-class movie, the kind of sucker who will have a hard time during the whole movie, yuh know? He has a friendly look, the nice guy, slightly rounded cheeks, receding hairline at young age type?
Anyhow, i decided to ask two pieces of information which were missing in my head, how did the operation go and what time is it? He smiled and i thought, go on then, tell me? He said that all went well, no complications and it was now 1.30 PM. Wow, i thought, that was longer than expected, well, slightly longer at least. He did say though that all went well. He must have seen the enquiring face expression i had, so he continued explaining me that they used robots, remember? I said i did remember. He continued explaining that it can take up to two hours just to get the robots in the correct positions and an hour just to get the robots back out and close up the holes. The rest is the actual working time to carry out the surgery.
With my cloudy head i did some calculations and concluded that the total timing wasn't that bad after all (mind you, if my head weren't cloudy, i think my calculation results would probably have been the same, lol, not exactly my specialty to do simple calculations).
In the meantime he started to make notes at the foot end of my bed, i assume to make note that i look like a sucker from a b-class movie who thinks that i am A-Ok but in fact the worst is still to come, the stinging pains from the operation, the unwillingness to move any part of the body to avoid further pains.
But curiously, i was not feeling any pain at all, nothing. Decided to move limbs, even the waist a little bit and i didn't feel anything. This was great!
Ha! Ok, 2.15 PM suddenly, guess i dozed off? Still in recuperation room. Am i really awake or am i dreaming? My male nurse is nowhere to be found, instead i have another gentleman making notes at by bed. He really looks like George Costanza from the Seinfeld show, and not only in looks, but also in behavior.
Fun part about just lying there is just to watch everything that is going on. George is playing around with the female nurses. I believe George is probably a higher level nurse than his female counter parts, cause all the ladies seems to "adore" him,they laugh at his jokes, one of them even almost rubs up against him. My bet is that he decides the shifts, who works when! Has to be, because he lacks any other typical attraction to women.
He asks me if i am Ok, if nod yes, but i make him clear that i am feeling kind of thirsty. Now, i fully realized that i would not get anything to drink, but i was hoping for something to wet my lips. He kindly offered me some pineapple ice cubes to suck on. I was rather hoping for a wet towel, or one of those mini sprays with just water to wet the lips. I kindly reused the pineapple ice cubes as my brain said not to swallow anything in this operated stomach of mine. I didn't know if my prof would have appreciated me to melt those sweet things into my stomach at that point, anyhow, decided to wait until i am in the room then.
3PM, hey, had another snooze there it seems like. Hmmm, where's my brother? I recall telling him he could come and check me in the recovery room once i was out, but didn't see him. I was quite confident that if he could have, he would have, so they probably didn't let him in. I was just hoping he got the news about me being Ok.
I don't know how big the whole recovery area is, i estimated about 30 beds big. It had a central office, almost like a fish tank, but with high furniture in the middle, so i could not really see through the office to the other side, but i assumed the other side had as many beds as on this side, approximately. That central office looked like the nerve centre where all the technology, hooked up to patients, came together, a bit Star Trek like. Mind you, have a look at this little movie we found online, it is a graphical explanation of what the operation I went through looks like, what the prof has done to me:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4vREUUv9Lw
Now, isn't that beginning to like Star trek as well? Only one step missing, it's the small handheld machine the docs in Star Trek use that makes a buzzing sound and which they repeatedly hover over the patient's body in order to diagnose and sometimes even heal the patient. I am convinced we are not more than a decade away from that now, lol.
Anyhow,the recovery room didn't look too busy today, i could only confirm 3, maybe 4 beds being occupied, one being mine of course. So the staff had some time to chat, a shift change was taking place. Plenty nurses coming to talk to George Costanza, the suspected shift manager, some with happy faces, some with more worried faces possibly trying to convince Costanza to switch their shifts. I thought, now, imagine being a nurse and wanted a shift change because your old aunt is sick at home...it would suck if your supervisor then tells you to just bring in the sickly aunt into hospital to get checked out, no? So that's one less excuse you can use as a nurse. And by the way, am sure that Costanza would not be the easiest to be convinced.
Ah, three new guys walking around, two of them looking like docs and one intern. How can you tell the difference? The walk, the dress code.... The intern guy had all the bells and whistles on, stethoscope around the neck, badges all over the place including name tag, looking at patient's records, including mine at the foot end. I thought i would still check and asked him if i could get something to wet my lips. He told me he would check with my nurse, which would be Costanza at that point. Check, intern !!! Kept following him with my eyes, he was just walking around, more lost at what to do, he never talked to anybody re my dry lips, oh well.
The two other new guys were more looking like doctors, one had a mouth protection on, like as what they have when they are in the operating room, so there is why i made the assumption. Both men were now in a discussion, about five meters from my bed. I thought they were discussion the last operation they did, with all the complications involved, but nothing was less true. One was coaching the other on how to prepare to run a marathon. Two nurses joined the discussion a while later. They were talking so much that another snooze was out for me, lol, but i didn't mind, i was just counting the minutes till i would be rolled back to my room.
3.45 PM , i'm outta here! I get clearance for take-off, i can be rolled back to my room upstairs. They disconnect all that was still connected to me, and that was way more than i realized, the driver was called and he started maneuvering my bed to head for the corridor, out i went! Rolling through the corridors we reached the familiar elevators, back to level 9, the penthouse suite...hahaha
Reached upstairs, back into MY corridor, rolling towards MY room. Felt like the closest thing to home, to comfort. And who is sticking his head around the corner from by the waiting area? My brother! So nice to see him, he is smiling too as the driver takes a perfect swing to turn my bed back into my room. And who else do i get to greet? Mr. Grumpy, my neighbor in the room. Coming to think of it, after seeing "Costanza" from Seinfeld downstairs in the recovery room, Mr grumpy, my neighbor really fits in perfectly with the description of "the ugly naked guy" from the series Friends. Oh, i am terrible! I wonder what my neighbor baptized me as? Nothing probably, he doesn't seem like the most humorous guy, his loss!
Well, peeps, operation is done, am back in my room, recovery can start. I hope that it runs as smooth as the operation itself, i am sure it will. I suspect my prof has done a terrific job, we will wait and see. From readings before i had already learned that i would not get anything to eat nor drink for a whole probable 36 hours, only drips into my veins, painkillers, and hopefully the mouth spray to wet my lips.
I am thankful to be back in MY room, happy to have my brother there and longing to inform my wife who is still flying across the ocean that all went well, that i made it!
A guy is staring into my face.
It seems like my operation is over and done with! I am awake! I made it!
I have absolutely no clue what was done to me, how it went, how long it took and even exactly where i was. Somehow though, i had enough sense already to realize that i am in the recovery room.
Way too close for comfort, that male nurse's head is hanging over mine to see if i am doing alright. I mean, he is cleanly shaven and such, but still. He looked a bit like from a French B-class movie, the kind of sucker who will have a hard time during the whole movie, yuh know? He has a friendly look, the nice guy, slightly rounded cheeks, receding hairline at young age type?
Anyhow, i decided to ask two pieces of information which were missing in my head, how did the operation go and what time is it? He smiled and i thought, go on then, tell me? He said that all went well, no complications and it was now 1.30 PM. Wow, i thought, that was longer than expected, well, slightly longer at least. He did say though that all went well. He must have seen the enquiring face expression i had, so he continued explaining me that they used robots, remember? I said i did remember. He continued explaining that it can take up to two hours just to get the robots in the correct positions and an hour just to get the robots back out and close up the holes. The rest is the actual working time to carry out the surgery.
With my cloudy head i did some calculations and concluded that the total timing wasn't that bad after all (mind you, if my head weren't cloudy, i think my calculation results would probably have been the same, lol, not exactly my specialty to do simple calculations).
In the meantime he started to make notes at the foot end of my bed, i assume to make note that i look like a sucker from a b-class movie who thinks that i am A-Ok but in fact the worst is still to come, the stinging pains from the operation, the unwillingness to move any part of the body to avoid further pains.
But curiously, i was not feeling any pain at all, nothing. Decided to move limbs, even the waist a little bit and i didn't feel anything. This was great!
Ha! Ok, 2.15 PM suddenly, guess i dozed off? Still in recuperation room. Am i really awake or am i dreaming? My male nurse is nowhere to be found, instead i have another gentleman making notes at by bed. He really looks like George Costanza from the Seinfeld show, and not only in looks, but also in behavior.
Fun part about just lying there is just to watch everything that is going on. George is playing around with the female nurses. I believe George is probably a higher level nurse than his female counter parts, cause all the ladies seems to "adore" him,they laugh at his jokes, one of them even almost rubs up against him. My bet is that he decides the shifts, who works when! Has to be, because he lacks any other typical attraction to women.
He asks me if i am Ok, if nod yes, but i make him clear that i am feeling kind of thirsty. Now, i fully realized that i would not get anything to drink, but i was hoping for something to wet my lips. He kindly offered me some pineapple ice cubes to suck on. I was rather hoping for a wet towel, or one of those mini sprays with just water to wet the lips. I kindly reused the pineapple ice cubes as my brain said not to swallow anything in this operated stomach of mine. I didn't know if my prof would have appreciated me to melt those sweet things into my stomach at that point, anyhow, decided to wait until i am in the room then.
3PM, hey, had another snooze there it seems like. Hmmm, where's my brother? I recall telling him he could come and check me in the recovery room once i was out, but didn't see him. I was quite confident that if he could have, he would have, so they probably didn't let him in. I was just hoping he got the news about me being Ok.
I don't know how big the whole recovery area is, i estimated about 30 beds big. It had a central office, almost like a fish tank, but with high furniture in the middle, so i could not really see through the office to the other side, but i assumed the other side had as many beds as on this side, approximately. That central office looked like the nerve centre where all the technology, hooked up to patients, came together, a bit Star Trek like. Mind you, have a look at this little movie we found online, it is a graphical explanation of what the operation I went through looks like, what the prof has done to me:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4vREUUv9Lw
Now, isn't that beginning to like Star trek as well? Only one step missing, it's the small handheld machine the docs in Star Trek use that makes a buzzing sound and which they repeatedly hover over the patient's body in order to diagnose and sometimes even heal the patient. I am convinced we are not more than a decade away from that now, lol.
Anyhow,the recovery room didn't look too busy today, i could only confirm 3, maybe 4 beds being occupied, one being mine of course. So the staff had some time to chat, a shift change was taking place. Plenty nurses coming to talk to George Costanza, the suspected shift manager, some with happy faces, some with more worried faces possibly trying to convince Costanza to switch their shifts. I thought, now, imagine being a nurse and wanted a shift change because your old aunt is sick at home...it would suck if your supervisor then tells you to just bring in the sickly aunt into hospital to get checked out, no? So that's one less excuse you can use as a nurse. And by the way, am sure that Costanza would not be the easiest to be convinced.
Ah, three new guys walking around, two of them looking like docs and one intern. How can you tell the difference? The walk, the dress code.... The intern guy had all the bells and whistles on, stethoscope around the neck, badges all over the place including name tag, looking at patient's records, including mine at the foot end. I thought i would still check and asked him if i could get something to wet my lips. He told me he would check with my nurse, which would be Costanza at that point. Check, intern !!! Kept following him with my eyes, he was just walking around, more lost at what to do, he never talked to anybody re my dry lips, oh well.
The two other new guys were more looking like doctors, one had a mouth protection on, like as what they have when they are in the operating room, so there is why i made the assumption. Both men were now in a discussion, about five meters from my bed. I thought they were discussion the last operation they did, with all the complications involved, but nothing was less true. One was coaching the other on how to prepare to run a marathon. Two nurses joined the discussion a while later. They were talking so much that another snooze was out for me, lol, but i didn't mind, i was just counting the minutes till i would be rolled back to my room.
3.45 PM , i'm outta here! I get clearance for take-off, i can be rolled back to my room upstairs. They disconnect all that was still connected to me, and that was way more than i realized, the driver was called and he started maneuvering my bed to head for the corridor, out i went! Rolling through the corridors we reached the familiar elevators, back to level 9, the penthouse suite...hahaha
Reached upstairs, back into MY corridor, rolling towards MY room. Felt like the closest thing to home, to comfort. And who is sticking his head around the corner from by the waiting area? My brother! So nice to see him, he is smiling too as the driver takes a perfect swing to turn my bed back into my room. And who else do i get to greet? Mr. Grumpy, my neighbor in the room. Coming to think of it, after seeing "Costanza" from Seinfeld downstairs in the recovery room, Mr grumpy, my neighbor really fits in perfectly with the description of "the ugly naked guy" from the series Friends. Oh, i am terrible! I wonder what my neighbor baptized me as? Nothing probably, he doesn't seem like the most humorous guy, his loss!
Well, peeps, operation is done, am back in my room, recovery can start. I hope that it runs as smooth as the operation itself, i am sure it will. I suspect my prof has done a terrific job, we will wait and see. From readings before i had already learned that i would not get anything to eat nor drink for a whole probable 36 hours, only drips into my veins, painkillers, and hopefully the mouth spray to wet my lips.
I am thankful to be back in MY room, happy to have my brother there and longing to inform my wife who is still flying across the ocean that all went well, that i made it!
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Good night!
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!
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!
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!
Saturday, March 10, 2012
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!
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!
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Psychology 101
From what I have already learned is that the weeks and months post operation are not exactly days and nights to look forward to. But then again, no post operation is exactly a fun time for anybody, so that didn't come as a surprise. In fact, there have been little or no surprises in my online research thus far, except then maybe the pre- and post operation pictures of people who have gone through the procedure. Some are truly not recognizable, very strange how much weight some have lost.
Again although no surprise, the diet after the operation is quite strict, no sugar, plenty protein, daily vitamins to take as extras for the body as the digestive tract has less possibilities to extract the necessary vitamins in the natural way. Apparently a lot of drinking will be needed as well, just like have seen some people do at Carnival, but in my case it will only be water, decaffeinated tea and that will be about it from what I understand so far.
One thing I have been told to watch out for is something called "gastric dumping". As the operation actually makes the stomach smaller, it can of course contain less food than before. If one eats too much, and the food doesn't fit in the pouch anymore, then the food gets pushed through into the intestines, but undigested of course....and that is a very painful experience apparently with stomach cramps.
I am sure that during the days immediately after my operation, I will care little for what, when and how much I get to eat, the weeks afterwards will be the challenge though. Apparently, that is one of the reasons why they employ the services of a psychologist on the team, to guide the patients through the period of behavioral change. People who are obese like me frequently would turn to food or sugars when they are happy or sad, when they want to party or rather cool down, when they are in company or when they want to be by themselves. It really is no different in my opinion to the person who smokes cigarettes or even worse, or the people who drink beers and stronger, or the people who become violent because they have no other exhaust for their energy or loneliness.
The psychologist comes in to make sure I can find other ways than food to deal with all of the above, but not including any other unhealthy vices as replacements of course. And that is important, because when I stopped smoking, that is when I gained weight after months. and continuing for years because I snacked instead of smoking. A positive note, is that they do some handholding to make sure the operation of this gastric bypass is not just the cutting and healing, but a process which is managed years after as well.
In fact, when speaking to the prof he told me already that I am due back in the hospital for check-ups on a very regular base after the operation, not just to check the physical healing, but also the emotional handling of it all. It starts two weeks post operation, then every month for the next six, then 6 months later again, then yearly for the next 5 years post operation. He told me though that most appointments are made way ahead of time, and in years 3,4, and 5 it is not uncommon that people don't show up or call in much later with much apologies, but they just forgot they ever had the operation, their new life is by then felt as "a completely normal life", just to show that normal life will return, but weighing less.
Do some people put back on weight? I have heard some do, but do not have any examples or references to fall back on at this time. I have heard of friends of peeps who have gone through the procedure that they were glad that their friends had put on a little bit of weight again, just to fill the deep pockets in the face as they looked like deflated balloons...lol...I am sure it will not go that far with me.
Ok, having shared that with you all, I am ready for the psychologist next week Friday, bring him on...lol ! You can post in the comments how many rounds you think this encounter will take and who will win...hahaha, wohoho...weeeee....YO... wow! Yipieee! ;-)
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!
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