Hallucinations, water boarding and class a drugs
Almost a week since surgery and although there has been huge progress, the brutality of this disease has become abundantly clear ( despite this version being one of the better cancers to get. ( based on very limited research on my behalf relating to death likelihood… So basically fact! ). You simply can’t get through it without equally brutal treatment. As a close friend has since put though, “it would have been embarrassing if it had been easy after all that fuss!” Despite all the various reassurances I’ve had in the last few weeks, it had become obvious to me that the tumour had morphed into something far bigger more invasive than first hoped. If I’m honest though, being any more prepared this week wouldn’t have helped a single bit. If I’d know the pain coming, I would have runaway and hidden somewhere and probably cried. (Hay fever!) A week on i’m genuine glad I’m here and not there still.
Pre-op
Saturday was great, amazing dinner at the Langham nearby…. Jo have you paid them yet btw? Followed by a cheeky couple of beers in a local sam smith’s pub The Dover Castle where jo promises she had pre-arranged for Noel Fielding, Ross Noble and various other BBC comedians to be there already…. Try it out if you’re coming up this week, the chat will be better at the hospital though!
About 11, headed back to the hospital for some suitably surprised looks from hospital staff still needing to do some tests. “I’m here now aren’t I!?”
Sunday was a blur: one minute I’m walking down to the theatre in paper pants and the next I’m clearly off my face on ketamine, morphine and various other drugs moaning in my head as to why they hadn’t started the surgery yet… They had! I have saved the notes of gibberish that I was apparently “communicating” with staff, jo and my dad though post op.
First goal achieved: they said it would be around 14 hours in surgery, I was out in 12, winning! Second (2 part goal): Deal with this whole thing with good humour and dignity. ( left the dignity in those paper pants and notepads on day 1 sadly.)
Day 2 and 3 followed a similar pattern to previous surgeries I’ve had: a )get all excited initially that nothing hurts and you’ve got some great new best mates in all the hospital staff and that you are in fact amazing followed by b)the grim realisation that enough drugs to take down a wildebeest is coming back to haunt you in the form of a comedown very soon. Day 3… Always day 3! Drugs go away, pain, self loathing and despair pay a cheeky little visit ( for about 3 days).
Confession time
If you have been getting updates from Jo or my dad re my progress, they will tell you I have been a model patient. This is a lie: I have been showing off at the right times. (Just don’t tell them). I basically get 1-1 nursing here which means overall now with 2 shifts a day i think I’ve had in the region of 10 nurses. 5 are still talking to me, 2 now seem to be on indefinite leave and a further 3 haven’t been seen anywhere. Spoiler alert: some nurses can be dicks ( just like everyone else). As I’ve not been able to speak as yet though, my comms system has been simple: wink or thumbs up generally means “thanks””yes” “your’re the best” “please” etc. Any other facial expression, hand signals or launching of medical equipment means “get away from me you incompetent dick and find someone that can help!” Coming next week: why some Buddhist monks are also dicks.
Update, I’ve since seen one of the missing nurses and we agreed that she was indeed wrong and I am a model patient… Fact. Quick political note: massive reliance on agency nursing staff within the private sector which from my perspective at least hugely affects continuity of care and trust, especially in scary situations like this. Overall though, all the staff that have helped me in this first week have been incredible. Thanks!
Things I have had in my body this week:
Other people’s hands
Other people’s blood
A saw
Botox (I shit you not)
Stitches (many)
Demons
Tracheostomy tube
Central line ( seen this on casualty) into groin/femur.
3 X drains ( mahaassive big needles … Let ‘s call them swords, that I can only draw solace from the fact they must have hurt even more going in!)
With regards to pain management, I need to know how much things are going to hurt. Surprises are bad. Here’s the key I’ve learnt so far to the “will it hurt” question:
The headline at the top btw is no exaggeration. For the first 2 days, whenever I closed my eyes I would hallucinate very strange images to the point that whenever the small talk got tedious with staff etc, I’d find myself closing my eyes just to see what came next. Haven’t worked out if it was the ketamine or the morphine but just say no kids, drugs are bad ( mostly!) . Btw, if you’re planning on visiting anyone in hospital, especially if they can’t talk, walk, eat, drink or write, work on your small talk or learn a magic trick perhaps. Talking of magic tricks I can now offer any visitors amazing impressions of Darth Vader, Jeremy Beadle, (nerve damage to hands during surgery) Donald Duck, motor boats, Stephen Hawking’s slightly retarded younger brother prototype and guantanamo bay residents.
The water boarding refers to having an open hole in your throat, whilst gargling on your own body fluids at 3 am in the morning whilst everyone else looks at each other in puzzled fashion. Too much detail? Too soon? No pics at least I promise.
You’ve probably noticed that this post has dragged on longer than the others and possibly slightly darker. Just too much bloody time on my Jeremy Beadle hands.Thanks for all the messages though, they’ve really helped even if I haven’t always been lucid or dexterous enough to reply to them and special thanks to jo and my dad who have dragged themselves in every day only to be greeted by an often miserable / asleep /tripping mess of a human being. Familiar faces really are helping ( even if you have 3 heads each, battling with minotuars and riding unicycles.
I’ll leave you with the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week (other than where does it hurt… ): “Do you have your own Botox or would you like us to supply?” Only in Harley street (I bloody hope!)
