So I trollied off to the hospital. With so many conflicting opinions…that it would be 4-6 weeks after the pre-op for the operation to 4 people telling me they knew people who had been in a week after their pre-op.
Honestly, earlier is better! With an 8 week recovery period I’d like to be moving around relatively well at Christmas. I have almost accepted we won’t be able to have the family round for Christmas dinner but to move about would be nice…..
The new surgical unit is open – very white…..so much so that I had a headache when I vacated the building 2 hours later. I’m hoping the ward, also located in the surgical wing apparently, isn’t as white – having to spend 2-4 days there….I may need sunglasses and who wants to look like some diva in hospital!
6 weeks! 6 weeks! On average – for those of us that can add up without a calculator and trust me, I can only just about do that (shut up!!! I am an accountant – we are rubbish at sums without a plastic apparatus to bash numbers into) it takes us up to just before Christmas! Suffice to say, I told the nurse that if she can get me in on a cancellation then I will gladly take it.
The nurse was refreshing honest – although I knew what she told me because I had played the google monster…..”You will feel like death for 2 weeks”…..”The sofa will look very appetizing”…..”The sofa will become your best friend for 4 weeks; I strongly recommend you let it” and so on and so forth.
She found it hilarious that the only thing I was concerned about was how soon I could have a proper shower after the op. “Seriously…that is all you are worried about?” Erm, yeah – let’s face it, you are going to take parts out of me and sew me back up with hundreds of stitches, it is going to hurt like hell, you are going to give me some sh*t hot drugs for the first day or so and I am going to struggle to move for 3-4 weeks but that is a given – what I want to know is, can I shower with what is essentially a big ass healing wound and how do I shower without risking infection…..
More bloods taken, so I am figuring on 2 weeks for them to come back and me get the all clear for surgery then another chitty thing to get more taken 7 days before the operation date. So 3 weeks right? At least!
So, I’m thinking, be serious, your hand cannot cope another 6 weeks at work. Your struggling to open a can of pop woman! …..and the world will end if you cannot open a can of pepsi max so admit defeat you need to use the Dragon. No, not a horrid lady but a
So. My big big big boss, 4 grades higher than me, gets shoved out of her office for me to sit in there and talk to a computer all day. I don’t think she is overly impressed and I feel super self conscious.
This happened Tuesday, today is Friday – guess what. Ring Ring…..how does the 22nd November grab you for being put to sleep, cut open, things removed and then a load of fantastic drugs to make you probably say amazing funny things of which you will never remember when you finally come out of the drug-induced daze?
Not 6 weeks, noooo not at all. Complaining? Nope, not I – by my reckoning…that is 4 weeks before Christmas which means I will be able to move around somewhat quite well by then! Hubby, however, sounded like he was short of breath with panic when I rang him to inform him – now it is suddenly real. None of this “best write your will, love, before the op…” joking. Though I had best get one because we ain’t married and I don’t want anyone to deal with all the splitting monies up if it all goes bottom up.
So yes, almost upon us – a week and a half at work to
I say us, because lets face it, essentially all I am going to be able to do is lift nothing heavier than a
Good job the Sky planners (yes plural) have been madly recording and I have not been watching it for 2 weeks – it may keep me occupied for a couple of days before I start twitching madly…..