... and actually I am riding the tide better than I thought this evening. It has helped that I have had loads of work to do since I got back from the hospital, and now I just feel shattered, so hopefully I will sleep! Meanwhile, back on the Urology ward my poor A is visiting the toilet for the hundredth time this evening following his rather alarming phosphorous enema earlier tonight. If there was an Olympic poohing team, A would be the captain. When the nurses said they wanted to "clear him out" they really weren't kidding - I don't think there will be a single bit of excess fluid anywhere by the time he has finished.
Anyway, it all went okay today. We did hair cuts and packing of slipper and toiletries and making drug lists this morning before driving to the hospital to the now familiar environment of the Urology ward. Funnily it was almost like we had never been away - same nurses, same beds, same food .... you get the picture. A was tagged up and assigned his bed and then we took our seats for another long wait. Both of us nearly nodded off in our chairs until a new junior doctor was despatched bedside to take some of A's blood and put one of those canula things in the back of his hand.. Except ... she was absolutely shockingly useless. She tied the tourniquet round his elbow, tapped here and there on his veins, probed about a bit with a needle, shook her head and undid and then retied the tourniquet strip round his wrist (yes, his wrist!) and tried the whole thing again. After 10 minutes of A grimacing and looking more and more uncomfortable as she tied and retied the strap at a myriad of different locations up and down his right arm, she decided to switch to the other arm to try again and another 10 minutes of utterly hopeless unproductive and painful arm and needle poking ensued. Unfortunately A looked more and more pasty and then suddenly all colour drained from him face and he came over really clammy and faint. Not good! By this time hopeless doctor trainee had got a little blood from somewhere and ran away with some test tubes looking scared. One of the main ward nurses saw how crap and clammy A was looking and immediately came over to take all his vitals again, reassuring him by telling him that this trainee doctor was actually the BETTER of the two who had just been assigned to the ward! Hmm, how reassuring (NOT). Thank goodness none of them are in the surgical team! ;-)
The very reassuring and wonderful consultant then came round with consent forms for the op, and then two stoma nurses who will be helping A adjust to life with a bag stuck to your abdomen after the op, and they were wonderful. Apart from that it was business as usual, until I was kicked out at the end of visiting. I'm too tired this evening to be really worried about tomorrow morning - A has one of the best urology teams in the country for the surgery and I can't ask for better than that. I am allowed to really quickly nip in just before 8 in the morning to give him a good luck kiss and a tight hand squeeze before wandering off to fill the hours as best I can til he is in recovery. I will be so happy when he is safely out of surgery and we can start on his path to post op health. I love him more than I can ever tell him, and it is hard to watch someone you care about going through all of these things .... but I hope that as a team we are the best and strongest combination to beat it.
Thank you all for your wonderful comments and private messages. It gives us amazing additional strength in our battles to come. Sweet dreams everyone.
T x
