Steve’s Journey Part 3
With the date for my operation confirmed as Friday 13th (could only happen to me!!), and in an effort to celebrate my 59th Birthday we decided to grab a long weekend on the Norfolk coast and headed off with George the fox terrier in our VW Campervan.
Beach walks, good food and a few pints of the local ale was the order of the day in an effort to dismiss all things “Cancer” from our thoughts. Holkham and Wells are tried and tested haunts that we knew would provide us with an escape from the impending stress and the ultimate change from normality. The time away proved a real tonic and getting older had, due to the forthcoming event, become more of a celebration than the norm for a guy of a certain age.
Monday arrived and the start of my last four days at work, where I am the MD with a shop fitting company. The staff were fully aware of my situation, as I had been missing in action on a number of occasions for various appointments and tests.
Whilst I sensed they were generally concerned for me, this is the construction industry, and concern was usually substituted with coarse banter regarding my age and things that I could look forward to post operation - like not being able to get an erection and the inability to control my bladder. Nothing’s taboo in the building trade! I count myself extremely lucky that I have a fantastic team that I know will run things in my absence, allowing me to concentrate on the challenge ahead and my convalescence.
Marie in her usual organised manner had already bought me a new wardrobe consisting of surgical stockings, loose fitting tracksuit bottoms, and an assortment of incontinent pads, briefs and boxer shorts. I think it was at this time it finally dawned on me the full extent of the journey ahead.
We were required at Addenbrookes at 7am on the Friday morning so we set our alarm for 4am allowing us enough time to shower and travel the 51 miles from our home near Stamford along the A1 and across the dreaded A14. Marie drove and we arrived at 6.30am, where we were welcomed into the day surgery unit.
I was aware that there would be two scheduled operations carried out on the day and prayed that I would be first to be called.
A nurse arrived in my cubicle and presented me with my patient name band and confirmed that I would be second on today’s list - my heart sank. We were told that my operation was scheduled for 2pm so I now had 6 hours to wait and worry.
We received visits from the anaesthetist and the Consultant who explained the procedure, confirming that based on the information they had, it would be likely that the lymph nodes would be preserved with every effort made to protect the nerve endings.
Talking with the guy that would be carrying out the operation offered me the reassurance I was looking for and as he departed Marie and I both commented that “it’s not just policemen that seem to be getting younger these days”!!
I had now changed into the robes I had been issued and at 1.30pm a gentleman dressed in green scrubs appeared at my bed to confirm that my time had come.
I gave my lovely wife a kiss and followed my attendant towards the operating theatre. The journey took us past the recovery room where to my dismay I saw and heard the guy who had just returned from his operation and was clearly in some discomfort. I shared some sort of awkward joke with the man in green that didn’t make any sense and wasn’t funny….I think I was now on auto pilot.
We entered the operating theatre and I was greeted by circa six robed and masked people, one of which I recognised as the young consultant, who spoke quietly and told me everything would be ok. As my last stab at humour, I reminded them all that today was Friday the thirteenth and could they try not to let me down. I think a couple laughed but a rather stern looking lady appeared to my right and said in a very matter of fact way “We treat all days the same here”
At this point I decided to keep my jokes to myself …As I lay horizontal looking up at a mass of bright lights my elbows were positioned into padded cradles, the anaesthetist then appeared to my left and found a vein in my left hand where he explained they would administer the anaesthetic. I was then asked could I confirm what I was there for….s*** had they forgotten!!! I confirmed I was here to have my Prostate removed…they then waved my consent form in front of me and asked me to confirm that this was my signature? Unfortunately, yes it is - I replied.
A mask was then placed over my nose and mouth and I was told to breathe in and out slowly…. the anaesthetic began to take effect and I drifted away.
I awoke from my slumbers and realised I was in the recovery room, a nurse was at my side asking me how I felt, reassuring me as I began to get my bearings and regain my senses. Receiving oxygen therapy via nasal cannula, and fluids via a drip, my first feeling was that of being very tired, but surprisingly nothing like the pain I had expected. There was an element of discomfort but clearly the pain killers were doing their job. I had been in theatre around 4 hours. The Consultant appeared at the end of my bed and speaking quietly confirmed that everything had gone to plan and he was able to leave the lymph nodes and had worked aggressively to preserve the nerve endings. I felt below the bed sheets and could feel the catheter in place leading to the bag hanging on my bed and was wearing snug fitting knee length stockings.
I remained in the recovery room for around an hour as they continued to monitor my condition and await a bed on the ward. Marie arrived and I remember suddenly feeling very emotional as the immensity of the procedure began to hit home. I was wheeled to the ward by a smiley guy called Ernie, with a theatre nurse and Marie by my side. We entered ward N2 and I was put in a room of my own - Bay 8.
Marie sat with me until around 10pm, looking tired she had been up since 4am and unlike me hadn’t had a five hour’s sleep, so she headed to her B&B. I sensed and hoped that the stress she had been under may have lifted slightly as a result of the day’s events.
My night’s sleep would be interrupted by the regular checks on my blood pressure, oxygen levels and heart rate and at 2am I awoke with the worst stomach pain I had so far endured. I was given liquid morphine and a peppermint drink in an effort to relieve the extreme spasms caused by the wind that is pumped into your abdomen during the operation.
At 6am I was awake and received a small injection to help prevent clotting. I remember thinking apart from my wind related pain the six wounds across my abdomen that had been access for cameras and the robotic instruments used to remove the prostate were still not causing me too much discomfort.
I was then given my first food since Thursday evening, Addenbrookes toast would not generally receive any awards but this was as good as it gets, washed down with a nice cup of tea.
At 7.30am my catheter bed bag was changed to a walking bag strapped to my leg which fitted snugly around my surgical stocking…very sexy!!
I was encouraged to get up and walk, with the target being 25 laps of the ward before I could be allowed to go home.
Assisted at first by “Ocean” - one of the amazing nurses that had been at my call all evening, I made my first steps astonished at how well I felt, bearing in mind the extent of the operation. After one lap I was left to continue my walks aimed at helping remove the wind from my abdomen. During my walk I had witnessed a lot of poorly people in far worse situations than me…It was a wake-up call and made me realise I should count my blessings and not even contemplate feeling sorry for myself.
I got back to my room and for the first time had a good look at the catheter and my new plumbing works in general. For the purposes of this blog, and with the intention of keeping things less clinical, I will from now on refer to my penis as “Percy”.
Percy had obviously been with me for 59 years and in general had never let me down. Like most blokes I would have liked Percy to have been a bit taller, but he had provided me with two lovely daughters and until recently had worked very efficiently. Percy now had a polythene pipe protruding from his mouth which led down my leg to a white bag that was attached with Velcro straps. The catheter generally felt comfortable apart from the mild sensation that I constantly needed a pee. As I got used to Percy’s new extension, the sensation became less of a problem. Having a very clever lever at the bottom emptying the contents of the bag was very easy. One of my main pre-op fears had involved the catheter and it’s mechanics - without doubt the thought of having to pee into a bag via a tube is every man’s worst nightmare…. I can confirm that from my experience this clever piece of equipment is very user friendly.
At noon Marie arrived as I tucked into my Meat pie and vegetable’s, followed by jam roll and custard. Soon after we received our discharge information along with a goody bag containing laxatives, injections, and various spare bags and tubes. I was on my way home, feeling positive, relieved and very emotional. The staff at Addenbrookes had been truly amazing, treating me with respect and dignity at all times. We arrived back at our cottage in Rutland late afternoon greeted by our trusty dog George, the fox terrier.
The procedure that had filled me with trepidation, and had played on my mind for weeks, was over… the next stage of my recovery would be down to me!
To Follow…