Surgeon Report 3 – Kid knees

(First past) The Post-Procedure Report: (A little referendum joke)

Birthday. Begins with a pipe being pulled from my Johnson

I checked into the rather pleasant hospital (much like the Constantiaberg, for any Capetonians who may be reading. Hi.)

Everyone was very nice and most of the staff spoke with South African accents. A quick meet with the surgeon fish and anaesthetist before being wheeled into theatre. Next thing I knew, I was being woken up in recovery and had a whole lot of blue duct tape wrapped around my Netherlands. A quick glance was sufficient; blankets were pulled back and I tried to un-see what I had just looked at.

I stayed overnight because of the lateness of the procedure and had a rather broken night’s sleep; I was too scared to move or turn over in case I pulled the C.

Was up bright and early and felt well enough to go to work. That feeling lasted about half an hour before I had to lie down and rest again. For the record, having a C removed, even by the nicest person, is not pleasant. The most basic functions, like breathing, suddenly seem to be quite hard.

I was slightly surprised to see one of the nurses wearing a t-shirt that said: “I Love Golden Showers.” I did not even know what that meant until he brought me a trolley containing 82 jugs of water and said “drink!”

400 gallons of water and three pees later for the pervert of a nurse and I was allowed to leave. Peeing after a C has been removed involves standing on tiptoes, constant reminders to breathe in, breathe out while experiencing a hundreds of razor blades passing through you. Each time I went to the loo, the results looked like a crime scene. CSI: Enfield?

Clearly then, returning to work was not an option and a further short nap was required before heading out for a family dinner to celebrate my birthday. With hindsight, perhaps it should have waited until I was more awake. It did not feel like a celebration. Still, nice of Siblings J and G and TLS to pay for my very nice Kulbasti (lamb fillet) dinner. I can heartily recommend Meze Meze (so good they named it twice) in North Finchley.

Earlier, the nurse said that I should keep drinking until the early evening to get the system flushed out, but not to drink too late as getting up during the night and disturbing sleep would possibly aggravate the recovery process. Rather, have a glass of water on waking to get some "back pressure" to force out any blood clots. Horrible!

I decided to ignore him completely.

It is not that I am not a compliant patient, but if I did not drink, and the blood started to clot prevented me from peeing in the morning, I would need to go back to hospital for another C. As this one would not be installed under general anaesthetic, I decided it was simply not a consideration and drank two beer mugs of water before going to sleep to ensure I woke up during the night.

The nurse also said the bleeding would probably persist until the final surgery. I cannot imagine going through this for another two weeks or three weeks; feeling nervous and nauseous every time I go to the loo is not feasible.

So, six days later and I have not managed more than two consecutive hours of sleep. I am a broken man.