Our mini break in Rome had been more than just a holiday, it had been an escape from reality, just for a few days. A chance to forget about what I’d been through and what was still to come. I really did manage to do that for the most part but literally the moment we stepped through our front door back home the anxiety hit me like a brick.
I had a sudden feeling of dread and felt physically sick. In just a few days I would be undergoing major surgery.
“Without fear there cannot be courage” – Christopher Paolini (author and screenwriter).
Nevertheless I returned to work on the Wednesday to finish my working week, having missed a day as a result of airline antics. I’d made the decision to start my sick leave from the beginning of the next week. Although my operation wasn’t until the Thursday I knew my head would be all over the place and I would struggle to concentrate. I also had to go all the way to East Grinstead (28 miles) just to have the compulsory pre-op Covid test then self-isolate so my two working days would have been disrupted anyway. I tried to keep my mind busy but it was a struggle.
The night before, I had to drink two of the Nutricia Pre-Op drinks and administer the first anticoagulant injection (Heparin). I made the decision to try to do this independently so I wouldn’t have to rely on anyone for the period of daily injections once I was discharged from the hospital. I surprised myself at how well I managed it. It was to be alternate thighs as my stomach would not be an option once I’d had the reconstruction.
We had to leave around 5.30 am the next morning so I went to bed quite early. My bag was all packed and ready. It was a restless night and I woke before my alarm. I had to drink another four bottles of the special drink before 7.00 am. It was thick, sweet and sticky but bearable!
The journey was ok as it was so early and we arrived in plenty of time. We had to go straight to the theatre area on arrival and check in. Once I was called in I had to say goodbye to my husband as he wasn’t permitted to come any further with me at that point. I was on my own now….
“Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway” – John Wayne.
I was taken through by a lovely nurse who said she remembered me from my pre-op assessment. She had carried out the ECG, height and weight checks etc almost three months earlier. It was comforting to see a familiar face. I was taken to an area where they get you prepared and it was a huge room. I felt quite lost in it!
“Scared is what you’re feeling. Brave is what you’re doing.”- Emma Donoghue (author of ‘Room’).
And so it began…
I was given a gown to change into, fitted for compression stockings and an identity bracelet. Because of my earlier lymph node biopsy, I also had an extra bracelet on my left wrist to warn that no procedures (any needles, blood pressure monitoring etc) should be carried out on that arm due to the risks of lymphoedema.
I hadn’t been able to remove some of my rings before leaving home and thought they’d probably just put tape round the ones I couldn’t get off. This was not the case though, they were not allowed to leave any of them on. The nurse explained that my arms would be placed out to the sides for several hours and my hands could potentially swell making it unsafe to be restricted by the rings. There were three rings that I never take off which caused the most difficulty. One is a double ring that’s linked together but, although it took a few minutes and was a bit of a struggle, was the easiest one to remove. The other two were my late mum’s engagement and wedding rings which I wore on my right hand. It took patience, skill, determination, an abundance of lubricant and around 45 minutes to get them off! I really feared that they would have to be cut off which would have made me so sad as they are very precious to me but the kind, reassuring nurse did not give up and apologised profusely even though it was certainly not her fault that I have very chubby fingers! I couldn’t have been more grateful to her for not adding to my distress on an already anxious day.
One of the nurses labelled up all my belongings but there was a bit of waiting time so she advised me to hang on to my phone so I’d have something to do. I did have a book with me (obviously!) but I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on reading it.
I was given a drug called Gabapentin. This drug is mainly used to treat neuropathic pain. With nerve pain, it’s thought to block pain by affecting the pain messages travelling through the brain and down the spine. The reason for its use prior to surgery is that a single dose of gabapentin can lessen postoperative pain and reduce the amount of opioids needed post-op.
I was also wrapped in a foil blanket and was told that it was really important for me to stay warm. This was all at the time of a heatwave in the UK but you couldn’t tell in the hospital. It wasn’t cold in the room I was in but it was a huge area and wasn’t particularly warm either. Apparently my body temperature could not be allowed to drop below 36° before, during and after the operation in order to prevent perioperative hypothermia.
“The perioperative period is the time surrounding a patient’s surgical procedure; this includes the period before surgery on the ward (or in the accident and emergency department), as well as during the operation and afterwards. Hypothermia means an abnormally low body temperature; that is, a ‘core’ temperature below 36°C. Your core temperature is the temperature of your organs, such as your heart and liver, and it is normally slightly higher than at the places where your temperature is usually taken, such as your mouth or ear.
….if perioperative hypothermia occurs unintentionally, it may cause:
• increased blood loss and a greater risk that you will need a blood transfusion
• a higher chance of wound infection
• a greater chance of heart problems
• an increased risk of bedsores
• a longer recovery period after the operation, which may mean that you need to stay in hospital for longer.”
⁃ National Institute for Health Care and Excellence (nice.org.uk).
One of the registrars also came to see me and basically drew all over me with a marker pen! She said that the plastic surgeon had told her I had a very nicely shaped pair of breasts and she agreed! I feel this would have been a very strange conversation in any other circumstances! Subsequently my plastic surgeon came and checked the markings, making a few minor adjustments to get it to her satisfaction. She said they were just waiting for the arrival of my breast surgeon and could get started as soon as she got there. I don’t really have too much concept of the time at this point but I got the impression she was quite late. Anyway, she eventually came to see me and we had a brief chat. The wait was finally over….
“Being nervous isn’t bad. It just means something important is happening” – Michael Jordan (reputedly one of the greatest basketball players of all time).
A nurse came to collect me and she was wearing what I can only describe as a full-face snorkel mask with a breathing tube. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame her but it was a bit surreal! It was more like I’d landed in the middle of a nuclear disaster rather than a post-pandemic situation. Maybe she was particularly vulnerable. At one point I feared that I might get the giggles but I was probably too tightly wound up. It was only a short walk to the operating theatre but we stopped halfway while the nurse went into another area and returned with a really hot blanket which she handed to me to swap with the foil. She said I would be covered up with the blanket throughout my time on the operating table.
The preparation was very calm and gentle. They really did put me at ease and I felt in very safe hands. They explained again that at regular intervals the nurses would be getting my arms and legs moving, wiggling my hips and just making sure I didn’t lie completely still for hours. I remember the general anaesthetic being administered but can’t remember too much of what else happened prior to that, it’s all a bit of a blur now.
I was now completely at the mercy of these incredibly skilled doctors….
“A strong woman looks a challenge dead in the eye and gives it a wink.” – Gina Carey
Hoping for a Happy Ever After 