The operation

I realised the other day that I have never actually talked about this. (It might get gross. Warning you now)

I have been thinking about it a lot lately. When I look back on it, I'm not sure I have ever been so nervous. When we got to the hospital, it all started to happen so fast. In a way I was grateful for it, but I also wanted to shout,"STOP! Just stop a second!" I was just confronted with everything all at once, and I didn't really have time to absorb it all. Perhaps that was a good thing? Whilst I was in hospital, I watched a couple of other patients wait almost all morning to be taken down to theatre, and in a way, that made me thankful that I  had not had to wait very long.

I arrived, and a nurse asked me some questions and gave me my anti-embollism stockings and hospital gown (which, I'm happy to report, did not have a butt gap in!) Then I met the anaesthetist and the consultants. I just kind of nodded as the consultants were talking. Like I said, I wasn't really absorbing anything, and I'd had the procedure explained to me a few times before. The anaesthetist was really nice and very matter-of-fact.

Next thing I knew, a nurse came to walk me down to theatre (why is it called that?) where I got ready to be anaesthetised. Now, whenever I talked about my operation with people, before the event, two people told me they loved the feeling of "going under" and one told me that they hate it. Their reason for that, they said, is because they have no control over the situation. At the time, this sort of rang alarm bells, because you all know how much I hate when I can't control something! *glares at flush on toilet*

Turns out, though, going under was quite a pleasant sensation! I lay there with a mask on my face, grinning inanely and enjoying the swirly whirly sensation of going under. Waking up, however, turned out to be worse for me!

They'd told me that to bring me round, they simply reverse the process of the anaesthetic. I had no idea what that meant, or how they would do that, so I didn't know what to expect. I guess I thought somebody would be gently tapping my face and saying,"Adele, wake up..." or something like that. Instead, I opened my eyes to find myself in a different room with people bustling around me, and I just flipped out!

I'm a little bit embarrassed about the way I reacted to be honest. I just felt so sick, and I didn't know where I was. I hadn't even had any crazy anaesthetic-induced dreams! All I knew was that I had felt a swirly whirly sensation, and then the next thing, people are attaching oxygen masks to me (which I took off, because it made me feel claustrophobic. They put tube things in my nose instead). I was vaguely aware that some time had passed, though.

For the next 24 hours, everything felt strange and dream-like. I wondered what I must look like, but did not want to see my reflection (though according to one nurse, I needed some blusher!) I actually tried to avoid seeing my reflection for a few days. It wasn't till Saturday that I forced myself to look at it (and I'd had the operation on a Monday).

I'm not sure there's really any way to mentally prepare yourself for something like this. You just face it head on, I guess. It is frightening to put all your trust in medical staff for a few hours of your life, especially for an operation as major as the one I had! I didn't really have a choice, though. If you are about to go through similar, then I hope I didn't scare you! You'll be fine!