Cut You...

Woke at 6am for my second shower this morning. One before I slept and now that I have awoken. I needed to be clean using the anti-bacterial liquid the nurse gave me at the hospital. For hospital I packed a pair of slippers, some pyjamar bottoms and a rather fetching purple stripped dressing gown. Also a copy of the book ' The Facebook Effect' by David Kirkpatrick. Though later I opted to read through lecture notes on my eeepc.

After some questions to make sure everything was correct and a large arrow drawn on my shoulder indicating the area to cut, I changed into the gown, surgical stockings, my rob and slippers. I was tagged on one ankle and one wrist then walked to the theater. The anesthetist stated the wrong shoulder that would be operated on, I quickly pulled down my gown over my shoulder the large arrow made it clear that it was my right clavicle and not my left. The surgeon Mr Patel entered the room in his work clothes complete with blood stained boots...

After an injection I was asked some questions about UEA as I waited for the anesthisia to take effect.. My mind may have been playing tricks but I'm sure the last question I remember laughing at was, “ are you a member of any terrorist organisations ?” The last option from a list being ANC. I think I laughed-out-loud and was told that not many people laugh to that question. Next thing I was waking in th recovery room with a slight sore to my lower right hip. Obviously they had taken some hip bone to encourage the growth on my shoulder. I had entered for surgery around 12 noon time, and woke according to the clock on the wall at 2:10 pm.

When finally a bed had become available I was wheeled through the corridors on my trolly. It was quite enjoyable and i wished I had recored my journey to the ward on camera.


My right arm was totally numb and I was unable to move it. I sat telling myself that moving my arm would would just be a question of mind-over-matter (shows just how little I know about medicine.) I could bend m fingers in one direction but not the other, fascinating !!! I used my left and to raise my right and see if I could not hold it in position.. totally impossible !! Just like a dead piece of meat.

The nurses obviosly are doing a great job under challenging conditions. They have to make endless MRSA swab tests and fill paper-work – new forms that require more added detail. They brush-off abuse from old racist patients as if it were nothing. The old man across from me is particularly trying to make things difficult babbling to himself. Lights are out !! It;s 11:30 pm and the use of my right hand has been restored- hence I'm now typing this on my eeepc in the dark. I feel like I'm in an episode of the award winning BBC drama 'Getting On'. People are snoring and mumbling to themselves in their sleep...