I think I sort of jinxed myself with the previous post upon where I declared that I found myself lucky at the moment. Am I lucky? Well on Friday 16th November I was rushed into hospital for an emergency appendectomy. Perhaps my luck had run out …
I was planning on writing a book review for Marcus Sedgwick’s My Swordhand is Singing for that evening, but at usual the best laid plans of Mice and Men and all that.
I was in a lot of pain; pain which caused me to cast all dignity aside and I couldn’t care less what people thought of me. I looked a state! I suffer from IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) and after what I thought was a severe attack, in fact turned out to appendicitis. The hospital visit was an utter pain in the rear; I can tell you.
Don’t get me wrong, I am extremely grateful for the NHS. I am proud and appreciative to live in a country where we have a national health service; I can’t imagine what the stress must be like for people in America and other similar countries that have to rely on insurance. This is not to say however that hospitals should be able to treat people the way they do.
I was left in a waiting room for two hours upon arrival; a small crowded waiting room mind you, where eventually I had no choice but to get out of my wheelchair and lay on the floor because my temperature had risen that much and they were refusing to give me any painkillers until I had been assigned to the ward.
Anyhow, I am not going to babble on about what awful things happened to me in hospital; which included mocking by nurses and refused help with a flooded shower room, I’ve had my appendix removed!
It was the first operation I’ve ever had and I’m very sore and still in considerable amount of pain. If it wasn’t for the morphine, I don’t think I would have lasted in hospital. I am now recovering at home and struggling with how uncomfortable everything makes me feel. It was open surgery appendectomy as opposed to keyhole surgery, which would have made recovery quicker and less painful. I am not looking forward to seeing the scar that will be left prominent and exposed right across my tummy.
I should be grateful though that the surgery went well and I am still breathing, though some visitors across the six days I spent inside the hospital would have been nice. It is quite difficult to get through when day’s role into one and a routine of sleep, medication, sleep, medication start to affect your mental state. I feel embarrassed to admit it now, but on the fifth day when the doctor refused to let me home, I broke down in front of a nurse, who I later apologised to. *It’s not nice seeing grown men get upset*.
I was excited to receive two pieces of news however whilst I was hidden away. The first is a surprise I will share with you over the next few days and the other is that the first lot of edits have come back from Doug, my editor. As soon as I am feeling up to it, I will certainly get started on them.
Have you ever had an operation or prolonged stay in hospital? It’s weird how it affects you mentally as well as physically isn’t it? Let me know your stories …