It is good to have the opportunity to Blog once more. I have just experienced the worst 8 weeks of my life so far, and the hospital have recognised that I needed a break from their constant blood letting, needles and 'procedures'. They have let me home for this week to recover. I am to return a week on Monday for yet another delightful 'procedure' whilst they attempt to get my bile duct functioning again. If this is successful things should improve, if not I may have to return to the hospital a few months down the line for more reconstructive surgery. I hope it doesn't come to that! Coming home after so long away has been like a breath of fresh air for me. I am still attached to drains and need daily injections, but at least I am now in the comfort of my own surroundings and I so look forward to going to bed in the dark without beeping noises, commodes that are pushed into the ward like trains and nurses voices rousing me from sleep just to take my blood pressure. Argggghhhh!
When I first attended the admissions desk on the 11th of March I hadn't a clue what I had to face. Had I known I might have simply turned tail and run away! Southampton General may have the most expertise in liver surgery in the whole country but their lines of communication are exceedingly tenuous! We arrived as planned at the pre- assessment unit at 1pm to be greeted by a ward sister who claimed to have no knowledge of me as my name wasn't on her list. Perhaps she noticed my despairing skyward glance! Then she tells usthat they are now at full capacity so there may be a long wait before assessment. I tried to cover my boiling wrath with a calmly stated "I am having major liver surgery tomorrow. I can do without this added stress" After twenty minutes an administrator seeks me out and assures me I am on the list. The other sister was looking at the day surgery list. Ironically I glance across to a sign on the blue door: SISTER VACANT.
It takes them several hours to find a bed for me. After I have taken the pre operative laxative the registrar informs me that if there is no bed in Intensive Care available they will not go ahead with the operation but will send me home. I am losing confidence by the second as I imagine an horrendous trip back to the Island glued to the toilet.
I suddenly feel very positive and I know deep down I am going to survive the operation. I surrender myself to whatever and wonder what tomorrow will bring.
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