So, the day before the procedure (see previous post) I start taking the Moviprep; what joy - no food and a 4 x 250 ml glasses of this foul fluid in an hour followed by 2 large glasses of something else over 2 hours and then bed; following morning repeat. Yeuch, yeuch, yeuch. It all adds to the gleeful anticipation. Await the ordered taxi - which for the first time with this company doesn't turn up... does not help the blood pressure, but I eventually just get to the hospital in time.
I make my way through the labyrinthine corridors and get to the unit reception, get changed and have the briefing... where they tell me that I have to have someone to sit with me etc for 24 hours after the procedure even if I have the sedative and not the GA. So I have a choice of going through this all over again, but with the added horror of an overnight stay in hospital and I've already seen an old skeletal guy (whom I nickname Skeletor - don't diss him - he might wake up) zonked out in what is euphemistically known as "recovery" or I can have the procedure without the benefit of any palliatives. I'm told that if there are complications it might be uncomfortable or slightly painful. Hah, sat in a non-existent plastic covering and a huge dressing gown surrounded by determinedly cheerful women, I spit on discomfort, I wave my private parts at discomfort (peculiarly easy at that point)...
Hmm. I am wheeled into the place of execution with a very attractive eastern European nurse obviously deciding to put me at my ease with "what do you do for a living..." when they're about to... I am congratulated on being a cool customer, which I am for the most part in these circumstances. Mr Khan is playing with his equipment, which irresistibly earns him the title of Doctor Octopus... Why worry, inshallah, all will be as it will be... But it doesn't help that I'm turned facing watching the high-res exploration through my innards on a 40" monitor. In an absolutely hilarious moment the beautiful Pole is asked for some jelly by Doc Oc.
But then there follows 20 minutes of increasing discomfort, physical manipulation with me being turned over, a bit like a spit-roasted turkey, and sometimes quite severe pain... even the nurses have fallen silent by the end; Doc Oc marvels at the sheer size of my internal landscape, which has swallowed the entirety of his equipment and they still hadn't got to the ileum... But it's a bit hard to be entirely dispassionate about this with 2 metres of tubing in you and the camera pressing, literally, into your diaphragm. And after all this there is, as predicted, no sign of any colitis (which is what quiescent means you dumb Doc Oc); so they decide to snip bits off on the way out to prove that all this has been worthwhile. Which doesn't hurt but does have some repercussions later. What you may not realise fully is that the combination of the Moviprep and the dilating influx of oxygen pumped in to provide space for the 'scope turns your nether regions into a chemical factory, with no polite way of getting rid of the gasses...
But then there follows 20 minutes of increasing discomfort, physical manipulation with me being turned over, a bit like a spit-roasted turkey, and sometimes quite severe pain... even the nurses have fallen silent by the end; Doc Oc marvels at the sheer size of my internal landscape, which has swallowed the entirety of his equipment and they still hadn't got to the ileum... But it's a bit hard to be entirely dispassionate about this with 2 metres of tubing in you and the camera pressing, literally, into your diaphragm. And after all this there is, as predicted, no sign of any colitis (which is what quiescent means you dumb Doc Oc); so they decide to snip bits off on the way out to prove that all this has been worthwhile. Which doesn't hurt but does have some repercussions later. What you may not realise fully is that the combination of the Moviprep and the dilating influx of oxygen pumped in to provide space for the 'scope turns your nether regions into a chemical factory, with no polite way of getting rid of the gasses...
So, they get me out into the recovery room (Skeletor is still lying there after his encounter with Doc Oc) and let me use the loo, and ask me if I want to stay lying down or want a cup of tea; I ask if I can simply get changed and go. They are astonished at the speed of my recovery, but the honest truth is I know that there is half a canister of oxygen mixed with methane in me and I don't want to take hospital with me if there's a spark at the wrong time (and I want to sit on my own damned loo without someone knocking on the door to make sure I'm still alive).
I get home and eventually am OK enough to make something to eat. There follows a very uncomfortable night and day (I did go to work - I'm that sort of hero (idiot)) but I spend an awful lot of time sleeping) although you might not feel most of it, it is quite a fierce pummeling for your internal organs, one of which at least is still complaining 48 hours later. Besides being mildly amusing, I thought I'd recount this just in case you have to go through it. The pain is bearable, it's nothing like some of the other things I've suffered and I am peculiar in my internal landscape so for a normal sort of person you could quite easily do this without the aid of a sedative or general anaesthetic. For the most part the latter are intended to help the staff rather than you in that they are administered to stop you panicking. If can bear a moderate amount of pain then you will have no problem with this.
It is undignified, and what really gets to me was that I thought this was unnecessary and it bloody well was...
Illustration courtesy of the excellent Furious Fanboys
It is undignified, and what really gets to me was that I thought this was unnecessary and it bloody well was...
Illustration courtesy of the excellent Furious Fanboys
No comments:
Post a Comment