5. The SurgeryI set my alarm (making sure I’d switched to Polish time) to wake me for 7am, grabbed everything I’d need to take to the clinic then left around 7:40am to walk up the road to it. The clinic itself is on the 1st floor of a shared building; you simply go in, take the lift or stairs and walk along a corridor where you come to an opaque door/window with Noa Clinic on. As instructed, I was nil-by-mouth and the last time I’d eaten was the night before on the plane and I’d had a bottle of water on arrival at the hotel.
Once there they took my coat, and I handed over the £20 in GBP for my blood test and had to fill out some forms, as well as one covering my state of mind/confidence/body image etc. I got their Wi-Fi password too. I was then asked to put some slipper things over my trainers and go for my blood test.
The blood test nurse was a jolly lady who sat me down, uttered a memorable “Ah! Big vein!” (the joys of being vascular) then without any fuss took my blood and patched me up in the space of about a minute. Job done.
After that, I had to go and sit and talk to Dr. Adam’s sister, who is the psychologist at the clinic, just to go over the form I’d filled out and presumably check that I wasn’t either insane, freaking out, or having the surgery for stupid reasons. She was a bit of a strange fruit, but it was over quickly enough.
I then sat with both surgeons, removed my shirt and they inspected my chest, explained the procedure and some other stuff such as the fact that because I’d dieted down and was pretty lean, they wouldn’t need to do much lipo, just gland removal, that I wouldn’t wake up flat-chested due to the structure of my chest itself (hooray, I have some pectoral muscle) and I obviously had to sign the final forms consenting to be operated on, that I understood the risks etc.
After this I said goodbye to my dad, and was taken to my ward where I was given the giant paper towel gown and paper slippers to change into, at least once I’d gone down the corridor to have a shower in the bathroom. There were two beds but I was told I’d be by myself, and I was then left to hang my clothes up and put my phone/tablet in a drawer. I spend around 10 minutes alone, then Dr, Marta came in and asked me to pull gown down and do a pose not unlike a lat spread where you flare the elbows and tense the pecs so the pen lines could be drawn on my chest. She explained a bit more about the operation and then left me to my own devices.
Dr. Adam then came in and I was told I could be the first operation of the day if that was okay with me. Not wanting to spend hours waiting about I agreed! I was lead into the operating room where I was introduced to the anesthetist and told to sit on the operating table and take my gown off. My modesty was then quickly preserved and lower body covered, although I recall having cold feet (literally) as my toes were sticking out of the bottom, and once I was laid in the correct position the catheter went into my arm, which was probably the least pleasant feeling I had the entire time. The antiseptic fluid (which looks like dark syrup) was poured on my chest and spread about, which was an interesting sensation and at this point it really hit me that I was about to be operated on, although I was still rather serene about it all. The oxygen mask was placed on me and I took two deep breaths, and just as I started to wonder when they’d tell me to count to 10 or that I was about to go to sleep... that was it, I was gone.
That was my first time being under a general anesthetic, as it goes. Waking up back in my room, it felt like no time had passed and I’d just had a very deep sleep, albeit waking to find you’re being squeezed by a big white Velcro belt/binder thing and covered in what looks liked dried ketchup. One of the operating assistants was there to greet me and then the surgeon came in to tell me everything had gone as expected and was successful. I was then left to my own devices, although if I needed anything there was a big red button with a nurse symbol on next to my bed I could press.
Gyno-free!
It was around 12:30-1pm at this point and I felt fine. The hours blurred a bit – I abused the (fast, solidly connected) wireless they had and was brought a glass of water every couple of hours. I didn’t have a dry mouth or trouble swallowing… in fact I was really hungry already and complained about this to my mum over FaceTime when I let her know I was okay.
At around 4pm a nurse (I think it was the lovely Marta) came in and told me she’d be looking after me for the night. She asked how I felt (great), if I was in much pain (only a dull ache from the catheter) and if I thought I’d be okay to eat something and drink more water (yes!). I think she was expecting me to be more worse for wear than I was – I’ve read a lot of people’s surgery experiences where they’re groggy after surgery and slip in and out of sleep during the hours afterwards… I felt absolutely fine and raring to go. Around 4:30pm I finally I got to have the infamous ham and cheese open sandwiches (3 slices of each) and a cup of tea (I drank the rest of the milk I didn’t put in the tea and used the sugars, even though I never have tea with sugar, just because I wanted the energy/calories). She found my foreknowledge and anticipation of these famous sandwiches hilarious, and after having nothing to eat all day I had to avoid eating it all too quickly and savour each bite. Around 6pm the normal visiting hours started, so my dad returned to see me for a bit, although we ran out of things to talk about, so I told him to go and get some dinner as I was fine.
After spending all day in bed I needed to stretch my legs, so put my underwear on and walked in circles a bit, then nipped down the corridor to have a pee as I didn’t feel like I needed any assistance. A while later the nurse came back with some painkillers, which I took even though I wasn’t in any pain, and more water. More time passed until about 9:30pm when the nurse came in to change my dressings (bloody!) and give me a sleeping pill. I craned my neck a bit to look at my chest but couldn’t see much so just let her do her things, then turned out the lights and tried to get some shut-eye. I woke around 4am although didn’t feel particularly weary, read the Metro on the iPad than at around 5am the nurse came into to change my dressings again (less bloody!) and give me more pills. At around 6am I got brought another 2 slices of bread/ham/cheese and the tea/milk/sugar. These were gratefully wolfed down. More waiting. More peeing, which smelt very weird. At this point I had to keep telling myself that it was nearly over, as being bed-ridden for this amount of time gets boring fast, even with the internet, books and music. The surgeons popped their heads in to check up on me. They were a bit concerned that because my torso was a v-shape (hooray, I have lats), the binder/wrap would keep slipping down so thought I should get the gyno vest fitted that morning. I was told I could get dressed and come through to the room where you get checked up by more nurses and be fitted with the vest.
Unfortunately, they then found they didn’t have any in my size, so we kept with the binder (did it up again extra tight, urgh) and since they were happy with how things were looking, I was discharged and told to come back the next morning at 10am. All a bit anti-climatic really, although I suppose as big a deal as it is for you, for them you’re just one of the many that pass through the doors.
On the Wednesday morning I had until 12pm to check out of the hotel, so walked to the clinic and saw one of the nurses (alas, not Marta, who I would have thanked more profusely for looking after me if I’d have known she wouldn’t be about) who changed my dressings again (no blood!) and let me look at how things were. As expected, my chest looked the same overall, except my nipples no longer sat on peaky hills of glandular tissue – they looked like they were part of the surface of my chest like… a normal person. Nice. Bruising and swelling were minimal and although I didn’t take any pictures, my chest looked the best it has so far and hopefully how it will finish looking like once the healing process is over.
I got told they’d had a delivery of vets and could fit me up… however being industrious, when I’d gone to the mall on Tuesday to have some lunch/coffee, I’d used the Starbucks Wi-Fi to go to the MACOM site, talk to someone there to get sized up properly and ordered a pair of vests with next-day delivery so they’d be at home for when I returned. They were understanding of this and didn’t mind (the vests were £50, the clinic charges £60 so £10 profit isn’t much compared to how much the make from the surgery). I was told to buy some dressings, tape and antiseptic spray when I was back in the UK to use for around a week after surgery just to be on the safe side, which I have done.
I then asked the nurse and the guy on the front desk to thank everyone who’d looked after me – I never got to see Dr. Adam or Dr. Marta again, which was kind of sad but they were both in theatre doing what they do. I got my discharge note and was asked to keep them updated with healing/recovery etc. I left the Noa Clinic for the last time!
Topic: Surgery at the Noa Clinic, Wroclaw, Poland, 23/02/2015 UPDATE revision 03/2017 (Read 53905 times)
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