Hi mate, just posted my stuff over on my thread but Ive gotta say hello on yours....
Glad it went so well for you...... me too!
Man of the year: Mr Levick. A great guy surrounded by a faultless team.
I was in Aston suite in room A09, close to theatre so I didnt really see much of the rest of the hospital...... that walk to the anaethatist room is a bit 'Dead Man Walking' tho aint it? I had a sly grin to myself.
Mr. Levick came in fresh from doing a breast enlargement on some woman: good thing he hadnt mixed us up, I said, and he drew on me and took those photos. Dya think I'll be able to ask to see them later? I'd like to so I can compare.... maybe when I go back for the followup in a month or two. I should have taken some pictures before but didnt have the bottle.
Going under was much the same for me.... I was chatting to this younger guy (student anaethatist?) on my right as Jonathan was pumping a huge bunch of syringes into my newly-jabbed drip. I think there was about 3or4 small ones, then a very large one, and I made some quip about him deliberately trying to inflate my hand. Then like you said, I felt it all come up my arm, thru my neck to my head, and the younger guy said "youre feeling it now, right?". "Hmmmm" I agreed and promptly passed out, God that's so weird.
I can vaguely remember being concious somewhere that wasnt my room after the op, then being in my room, then a succession of nurses, the anaethatist and Mr Levick coming in and telling me it went superbly. Just tiny flashbacks of groggyness and plain ignoring of the world outside until about 7pm when a feast arrived. I ate so much and still had room! I might try a day of nil-by-mouth again, just so dinner tastes so good
And that anaethetic messes your bladder about doesnt it! Nothing could slake my thirst and I was desperate to redress the balance -get some out of the other end, but I just stood over the toilet for ages and nothing. Not a bean. Not even a b of a bean. You dont ever expect to be constipated at that end!
I had a fairly comfortable night, a great breakfast and some good drowsing time before my Dad came to pick me up around 10.30. The occasional muscle twitch leaves me cursing, and I wish Id thought about my selection of clothes before I came back here to my parents': pullover jumpers are impossible!
Happy healing IT, I'm waiting for Saturday when I can (in extreme pain) get this sticky bandage off and have a look