Boring blog time.

I tried to blog about our walk up Buckden Pike a few weeks back, but it just wouldn't have it. The walk went well though :-)

I'm now just gonna keyboard ramble about my hernia op, and possibly blog about our walk another time. Seeing as I've just been sliced open, I'm not supposed to go walking for a while :-(

Basically, I've had an open repair of 2 epigastric hernias.
One was quite visible (like a golf ball), just below my sternum, the other wasn't so visible, and was a few inch to the left of my other one.

The whole experience wasn't so bad.
I was a little anxious because I've never had general anaesthetic before.

Fortunately, the staff at Huddersfield Day Surgery Unit were brilliant,  and really put me at ease.
I arrived at 7am, as instructed, and booked in at reception. After a short while i was called into a side room by Cath, the lady looking after me that day, and asked the usual questions etc, then put into a smaller waiting room. Always good being the first in, because hopefully you'll be the first to be worked on.
I waited a short while and started to read my book.
I managed 2 pages before I got bored (anxiety taking over here I think) and started to listen to the nusing staffs conversations. The only one that worried me was "I hope you're going to leave some skin on this time" :-D
I was soon called back into the side room to sign my consent form, and get a 2 month sick note!!! I also met my surgeon here, Jové I think he was called. Between Cath and Jové's light hearted chat I was totally at ease and anxiety left as quickly as it arrived.
Back to the waiting room, then called into a different room, then back to the waiting room...then called to get changed!
I was shown to the changing room and given my sexy DVT stockings. Now, being the rebel I am, I took flip flops not slippers. Being the idiot I am, I took flip flops not slippers. Well I didn't know about the stockings and the fact my toes wouldn't stick out of the end...
Anyhow, disaster averted and I poked my toes through the holes designed for the ball of my foot.
I shoved everything in the bag then went and sat back in the waiting room. Not 10 minutes later a lady in a gown came and whisked me away to theatre. Instead of watching Le Mis, it was the operating theatre. (Shame really 'cos she wasn't bad looking from what I could tell haha)
She had obviously done this dozens of times, maybe hundreds.
"Stand there. Dressing gown and slippers off please. Now lay on the bed with your head on the pillow. We'll put these on you (blood pressure jobbie and monitors etc) just so we can keep an eye on you throughout'
Seriously, she acted as quick as you read it.
At this point she grabbed my arm and started slappjng hell out of me haha.
They got the catheter into me and then vaguely held a mask over my nose and mouth. At this point I was expecting them to tell me I was about to get nuked,  or for them to ask me to count backwards, but instead they just asked if I was feeling a little drowsy, at which point I woke up in another room, with different nurses fussing over me.

Wow, all's done.

I'm sure you'll understand that the rest of it was a bit of a blur.
I was first back in the room and therefore got a window bed.
The glass of water was welcomed with open arms as my throat was as dry as it has ever been before. After a short while they asked if I wanted a cuppa. Hell yeah, a nice sweet tea please. They then asked if I would like some toast...a double hell yeah. Hospital toast is the Gillette of the toast world, the best a man can get. Shame really, I was heartbroken when I could only manage half a slice :-(

I was soon asked if I could get up and out of bed. I did, bit didn't really want to. I could have spent the day there.
I had to wait around for an hour seeing as the Wife decided to go shopping to the only supermarket in Bradford that she can't get mobile (or mobil if you're Kevin Bacon) signal in.
Never mind, it gave me chance to come round a bit more and get another sweet tea before being discharged.
I ended up going back in the evening.
I had spent a while laid in bed. When I got up my dressing was quite wet. By the third time I had got up from laying down it was saturated. I called the Surgical Assessment Unit and they suggested I nipped across to get it checked by a quack.
After spending 2 hours waiting the dressing had completely dried, and I looked (and felt) a bit of a fool for wasting their time, the wife's time, and worst of all the mother in laws time.
It's only 4 days later, as I'm laid here typing this on my phone, with no wound dressing on, that it has started leaking again :-o It seems like my body doesn't currently like my totally laid back approach as it is only leaking at the top, when I am laid without pillows.

I also called them up again today for advice. It seemed like the lump was back, but the surgeon seems to think it is just a haematoma (which might explain my leak) and he said he will review me as an outpatient I  a few weeks.

So all in all, a not so un pleasurable experience, with mid range discomfort afterwards.

Here's a pic or the incision mark. I asked them to do it with a blunt, rough cut saw, to give me a cool scar, but they forgot. They also seem to have forgotten to remove a few lb for me too while I was out and opened up too, but you can't have everything can you?