The voice had a distinct accent. She sounded young, and self-assured without being cocky. It turned out she worked for the NHS, in the north of the country but was originally from Northern Ireland. We spoke for over an hour about all sorts of things with only a couple of slight pauses. I was desperate not to seem as though I was trying to ‘chat her up’, an issue I have always had when talking with women. It was refreshing and fun. We arranged to talk again the following week, if her work allowed.
Over the weekend I visited my cricket club twice and spoke with a couple of good friends. It was good to ‘chew the cud’ especially with people who were happy to hear the issues. The most important thing is to be open and honest about the issues - the blood – the pain – the aches – the worries.
We took the grandchildren for a short time too, not that they really appreciated what was happening.
In the afternoon I put an old dining room table together to make a desk. It was an old pine table which though solid enough did not have the right look about it. I had ordered a smaller one from Amazon to be delivered the following day.
Monday morning, I was awake at 7.00 after a 45-minute delay to the alarm clock, then returned to bed with my cup of tea, before finally surfacing at a quarter to 8 for a quick shower wash, water the plants, eat some fresh yoghurt and walk down to my Office by 8.20 to start work. I had experienced the first joy of home working. The second was that I was wearing tracksuit trousers and a t shirt.
It was a good day working remotely. Lovely and peaceful with a bit of Sibelius in the background.
Everything I has set up seemed to work.
The new desk arrived. I spent the day putting it together. Walnut coloured wood with metal frames, a main desktop with two levels of shelves. It was perfect.
Things were now moving quickly, as I was due at the hospital for my pre-Operation assessment on the Tuesday.
My wife had been full of questions, and pronouncements, based on her experiences from Portugal.
No, I had no idea where to park. No, I had no idea how long I would be, though the letter suggested 2 – 3 hours. No, I had no idea what they would do. No, I had not got a specimen bottle. I did scuttle off to my surgery to collect one.
I clocked in at work at 7.15, to make up a bit of time and get one or two processes done before I disappeared.
The journey was smooth, with a slight delay for traffic building up at a natural bung point of a round-a-bout. Parking looked as if it would be a nightmare, and we were glad we were always very punctual, allowing an hour for a 30-minute journey. After one turn around and aborted effort to get into a car park, we made it in and slowly made our way round till we found a car about to reverse out. We waited and then I got out to stop the traffic as my wife parked up.
Inside reception I was asked the usual identifying questions and was asked to sit down. We waited a short time before my name was called out. I handed over my urine sample and in return was handed two cotton swabs and encouraged to stick one up each nostril and use the other to rub inside my groin. She suggested I did that in the toilet then come to her examining area.
I then went to have my blood pressure taken and height and weight measured having handed over my cotton swabs in a small container.
I headed back to the waiting area and collected my wife to move to a new waiting corridor.
Here a lovely black nurse called out my first name. I stood up waiting to see if anyone else would go. When they didn’t, I had to assume it was me she meant. She apologised as she did not want to get my surname name wrong.
Leading me to her small corner office, I was offered a seat and told she would ask me lots of questions, some of which she knew would not apply.
I am not pregnant, and I have no metal inside me’ I offered up, believing this would help the session go quicker. She smiled and said that she was glad but had to ask the questions anyway.
She took her time, slowly pressing keys and clicking the screen as necessary. She then talked me through some booklets and paperwork. This was perhaps the most informative session I had had since the whole process started.
Clear, simple and precise. She gave me 2 sachets to drink the day before my surgery; she gave me shampoo; she gave me energy fruit drinks; and a clear list of foods to eat beforehand. This I already had but was also useful.
She took me back to my seat to wait the next process. Within 5 minutes I was called up by a slight nurse who had tattooed arms and on her chest area, the top of the pattern I could see above her tunic. She sat me down on the bed and asked which arm I wanted to do the blood test from. I offered her my right, bunched my hand up, and squeezed to create a vein. She tapped and swabbed it down. I flinched. I have not started yet,’ she said. ‘I know’ I replied. ‘I am just practicing for when it hurts. Unlike you I did not do needles.’ ‘This was not pain free’, she said. ‘Not for me.’ I commented.
‘You can relax now; we are all done.’ Three vials full of blood lay on the table. I felt like Hancock. I am sure she had taken an armful.
I headed back to my seat but before I could sit down, I was called in to see the final nurse, but I cannot remember what for. I did not need an ECG. My potential 3 hours was over and done within an hour and 15 minutes.
