It’s 3.30 AM on thursday, and I’m awake.
At 5.30 PM on Tuesday I was given a general anaesthetic and wheeled into theatre. The operation to rod and bolt my spine into a straight line took 6 hours and I’m sure was quite noisy, every vertabra being drilled into so that the titanium rods could be screwed in.
I now have a scar running from my bum up to my head, and I doubt it’s pretty. I won’t ever see it, as I can’t stand up and look over my shoulder into a mirror.
To say I was in pain would have been a drastic understatement, with morphine not really hitting the spot.
I soon learnt that coughing was to be avoided at all costs, as was trying to reach out for something with either arm.
As I have to be rolled a little every 2 hours to avoid pressure sores, I don’t get the luxury of sleep either, though I have dozed intermittently for sure.
They can roll me a little to my left, but any attempt to my right is just a no.
I woke to see Dani’s face through the oxygen mask – that much I recall – but I don’t remember asking her where I was apparently every 2 minutes for an hour.
As I’m a long way from being able to sit up, I’ve yet to appreciate a look at my regained straightness, but I am aware I think of the changed appearance of my chest, which seems more expanded, as I think I am less round shouldered than I was 36 hours ago.
I have had countless messages pre op and post op, every one of which I appreciate, and even some visitors – my girls plus Neal and Debs.
Yesterday morning I met the physio that’ll be working on me this week, and to my delight it’s the same absolutely lovely one that I had 3 years ago here, following my return from Toulon.
Sarah must have seen thousands of patients over the last 3 years, and in fact doesn’t even work here any more, yet happens to be here for the next week and has me as a patient. It was lovely seeing her, and she held my hand tightly for ages. Given that 3 years ago I was like a skeleton, couldn’t speak as I had a tracheotomy, had mucous sucked out of my throat every ten minutes, day and night, had awful weeping scars on my face and had alopecia, I must look a whole lot more healthy this time around.
I’ve just remembered that last time I was here, she was trying to get my right arm working, despite me saying how much it hurt. That went on for about 2 weeks, until a doctor appeared and said they’d forgotten to tell her that I had a broken right collar bone.
I do have a TV, but thus far only watched 15 minutes of that British Bake Off thing ( that I’ve never seen before )
My God, how rude are those judges to the bakers? Since when was a cook able legitimately to be so unkind to someone, on national telly, over a bloody cake?
Not that I’d ever appear on a baking show ( since I struggle to make a cup of tea ) but I think I’d just stuff the pie into the judge’s face if he spoke to me like that…
Dear Russ
Continue to follow your progress not from Chiswick anymore but sunny Sussex.
You are amazing what you are continuing to endure, I am so please the current op went well, however the pain must be unimaginable.
I wish you a healthy recovery and as my Nan would say just intime for Christmas!
Take care
Beth x
Thank God your humour has survived in tact. Thinking of you