I suppose I should type up my account of Surgery Day, as is customary?
I'm terrible at remembering all the names of the nurses etc., so apologies if any of them just so happen to ever read this!
I arrived at the Priory Hospital about half hour early for my midday admission, as that just happened to be how the trains to Birmingham run. But no problem, very warm greeting at reception and was shown to room within couple of minutes by a very friendly and chatty chap who showed me how everything in the room worked.
Very nice room it has to be said, better than many a Hotel I've stayed in (though it was also a damn sight more expensive than any hotel I've ever stayed in I suppose!)
Didn't have to wait long for the first nurse to arrive to check out details and fill a form in, followed a bit later on by another one. Everything seems to be checked almost countless times, with regards to medical history and allergies etc., and indeed what bits of your body are being chopped off! - which is very reassuring it has to be said.
Settled in to watch TV for a bit, and around 1pm the Anaesthetist came in for a chat, explaining what the process is and answering any concerns etc., also checking yet again re allergies and so forth. Very friendly guy (embarrasingly I've forgotten his name too!). He said I was second op on Mr Levick's afternoon list, and the nursing team were at lunch, so I would be taken down to see him around 2pm.
Surprisingly I wasn't nervous at all. Guess by then I resigned myself to it was finally really happening, and coupled with everyone at the Hospital being so nice and friendly and relaxed, you just feel totally at ease. Fortunately in my life I haven't had to go to Hospital too many times with anything serious (save for a couple of relatively minor trips to A&E) - but when I've accompanied friends/staff/relatives to NHS hospitals I've often been a bit concerned at what I've seen... the Priory is worlds apart from any NHS hospital I've ever been in it has to be said.
Anyway, Mr Levick came in for a quick chat, being his ever-friendly self, and asked me to sign the consent form etc.
After that it was the infamous paper-pants and fetching white stockings time! - what a lovely outfit. I didn't have a dressing gown with me, so the nurse brought in an extra gown to wear back-to-front for the short walk to theatre, so I didn't shock too many people on the way! - though to be honest there is so much overlap on those gowns that unless you're like 60" waist or something, I don't think anything would show.
So, down to the surgery prep room, same set of questions confirmed yet again, then Mr Levick came in with his camera for a few snaps and purple felt-tip pen to mark me up. With a friendly wave he said he'd see me soon when I was all lovely and flat.
Then the anaesthetist came in and popped the canula in back of my hand, didn't even feel it go in. He had a handful of assorted syringes of drugs, 4 I think. The first one in was a painkiller he told me. Didn't feel that go in at all. Next came the "good stuff" - a larger syringe of what looked like milk. I told him if I woke up dead I'd be really annoyed, to which he assured me so would he be!! - anyway, he said I might start to feel the good stuff working, last thing I remember was looking at the syringe about half empty and asking "are you sure all that is going to fit?" - he said he thought it would, and the other chap said to take a breath or two of oxygen...
Then I started to feel a bit odd...
Then, seconds later, I could hear my name being called, but I wasn't much interested in responding... sort of opened my eyes, registered it was hospital (just about), felt a bit odd, and (presumably) dozed off again. This repeated several times until I remember thinking "now, has this actually happened, or have I just dreamed it's happened?" - and slowly I came to. Don't know how long it actually took to come around in the recovery room, I had no concept of time at all from drifting in and out. Later I thought maybe it was 30-40 minutes, as I seemed to recall a nurse making columns of notes that seemed to be timed at 10 minute intervals. This morning Mr Levick confirmed people are usually in recovery about an hour.
Anyway, once I came round a bit, I was wheeled back to my room. After downing a jug of water and going for a pee, within 30 minutes or so I felt right as rain. No pain at all. No grogginess from the G.A. Nothing!
It wasn't too long before dinner arrived, which was very nice and very welcome as I hadn't eaten since 9pm previous evening, and didn't have that much then. Lots of people say they wake up with a really sore throat from the tube, but mine was absolutely fine, didn't hurt at all. Expecting it to tho, I had gone for light-ish and soft-ish options of freshly made broccoli and red pepper soup, which was lovely, a nice fluffy cheese omlette and salad, and some tangy lemon tart, and a nice pot of tea!
Nurses popped in now and again for blood pressure and to check I was OK. More tea was very swiftly supplied.
I was offered codeine and paracetomol painkillers - declined the codeine as it makes me feel too woozy, didn't feel like I needed anything at all, but thought I'd better have the paracetomol in case the IV painkiller wore off and things started to hurt. The last painkillers I had were a couple of paracetomol at breakfast time, not needed any since. If I put pressure on my chest through the binder, it hurts a little, but not much. And then it is only "hurt" - I wouldn't call it "pain" at all. Will see how the evening rolls on, guess might need a dose again before bed - but will see. I hate taking drugs unless absolutely necessary anyway!
The only slight discomfort was from the top edge of the binder garment (seemed to be quite a bit of flesh sticking out the top of it) and the quite thick padding over the two tiny armpit-cuts, which made it a little uncomfortable to have arms down by my side. Soon fixed that though by either resting them on the bed table, or through the side-bar things on the bed. Problem solved! Only bruising I've got at the moment is a bit under the arms, right on top of the binder. Had a bit of a peek down inside it at my very flat chest, and can't see any bruising there just yet.
Last night I didn't get any sleep at all. I just didn't feel tired at all! - I tried to doze off about 1am (my normal kind of time) but every time I almost fell asleep, the air-pump thing that fed the circulation things on my calves made a noise! - eventually I asked the nurse if she could turn it off for half an hour then sneak back in when I was asleep and turn it back on, but she said it wasn't really needed by then as I'd been up and about back and forward for a pee plently of times, so just switched it off.
Still couldn't get to sleep, just wasn't that sleepy. Then there was a big rain storm which made quite a lot of noise against the window... plus the door to my room was right opposite the main nurses station bit of the ward, so lots of constant beeping of the call system or whatever it was. But as I say. I just wasn't sleepy anyway, and as at 5.45pm now as I write this post, I'm still wide awake! - maybe its the drugs, maybe its the excitement, maybe its the relief? - dunno!
Anyway, this morning I had a nice breakfast. The anaesthetist called in quite early to see me and said that he had had no problems at all. He seemed pleased that I had absolutely no groggy after-effects from the G.A. like some people have reported - as he says, different people react differently. Guess I'm one of the lucky ones then?
Mr Levick then came in for a chat and to bring me the photos, including the "burger shot", as I've christened it, of all the nasty junk he pulled out of me piled on top of my chest. In my case it looks like really nasty raw burgers!!! He said I had almost zero actual fat; all the tiny little bit of fluid in the liposuction jar in the photo is (which I'll post in due course) is the watery fluid he pumps in to work his magic. So all of my gyne was tough gristle and tissue, and when I saw the photo it is no wonder it would never shift with diet or excercise. What a horrible load of nastiness. Mr Levick assured me it was all in the incinerator now, never to return. That sounded great to me.
Chatted about how long to keep the compression thing on for before swapping to vest, and how long to keep that on for - the basic message being the longer the better. Said to expect all the lumps and bumps to come along in a few weeks time, but all would settle down over 6 months or so... all of which I am expecting of course from everyone's accounts on here.
He also said to phone or email anytime with any questions, concerns or problems, and emails checked every night - which is often the best if not an emergency situation (which is of course unlikely) - as can send him a photo of whatever it is that is of concern.
...and that was pretty much it. Shook Mr Levick's hand, and he bid me farewell and said to stay in touch with progress. "Another one down in my quest to rid the world of Gynaecomastia".
Nurses came in to change dressings, give me the take home drugs and spare dressings just in case they leak. But looked pretty good when she changed them. I'm astonished that Mr Levick can work such wonders, and pull out so much gunk, from such a tiny little cut. How does he do it??
Then completed yet another bit of paperwork for discharge, thanked the nurses for their excellent care, and that was it. All done. Receptionist arranged a taxi back to New St. Station for me. Train journey about half an hour home, then a slow 15 min walk - thought I'd need a taxi, but felt absolutely fine walking. I've kinda been on cloud 9 all day!
I filled in the hospital care questionaire thing completely honestly before leaving, and every box had to be marked "excellent" with me making assorted comments along the lines of "frankly impossible to imagine how it could be improved".
Mr Levick and his team, the Anaesthetist and his team, all of the Nurses, the Admin staff, everyone - cannot emphasise enough without exception how lovely and friendly and highly attentive they all were. That is sadly a very very rare thing these days, so it really strikes you as unusual when you come across it.
Would not hesitate to go back to The Priory (or whatever BMI hospital the relevant UK-best consultant is based) for any future surgical needs, and will certainly recommend them to anyone else who is thinking of having a private op.
So now I just have to wait and hope my results turn out somewhere near Mr Levick's normal high standard... I've no doubt that will be the case. The guy is clearly a genius in method and an artisan in execution.
This summer is going to be great.