Tag Archives: operation

Gas and air on standby

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The sigmoidoscopy went well, apart from the hanging about. I was offered the choice of sedation or gas and air and selected the latter with some trepidation. It had served me well when I was in a lot of pain before my emergency operation. As it happened, though, I didn’t need it. The procedure, by a woman doctor, went without any pain, though some discomfort. My nurse, Katie, was lovely – very friendly, relaxed and very good at distracting me with questions about what I did in my spare time. I had a mug of black tea and some bourbons afterwards, and felt fine.

I have to admit the preparations were not something I’d want to do every day. It seemed to go all right, and I was just near enough the loo. There wasn’t the anxiety about getting to the hospital without wanting to go again, though I was nervous. Dot said I looked terrible, but that’s probably normal.

Afterwards we were both very tired and watched quite a bit of TV before going to bed relatively early. Today I went for a walk of just over two miles as well as writing up the PHS minutes, writing several letters and e-mails and selecting pictures for a book on Scotland. And so ends November. We are waiting for the Robinsons, with whom we are having a meal at Prezzo.

Oh, I should have mentioned, the sigmoidoscopy showed nothing abnormal. Apparently I need to drink more water, though.

Short hair, broken fan

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Another shot from our Whitlingham walk
Another shot from our Whitlingham walk

Here I am waiting to have a sigmoidoscopy. It doesn’t happen till early this afternoon, but already my stomach is churning (actually it’s being doing it for days). Not sure if it’s foreboding or an actual stomach upset. The operation is minor, of course, but it’s the bit before and after I’m not keen on. I’ll keep you posted if I survive.

Dot is out visiting a school but will be back to accompany me to the hospital, in case I need sedation, which I am much in favour of. I am totally against unnecessary pain, and I’m not all that much in favour of necessary pain.

Happily our heating is back on. The boiler fan broke on Tuesday, leaving us with an electrically powered group meal in the evening. Quite cosy in fact, but the rest of the house was decidedly chilly. The gas man turned up the next day at 10am, at precisely the same time as our hairdresser, who had been rescheduled from Monday. He took some time to work out the problem, but then happily was able to fix it.

Meanwhile Dot was rather nervously having her hair cut short: it looks good. Mine is pretty short too, but it pales into insignificance beside Dot’s. Hair and boiler were both sorted in time for Dot and I to drive to the NRO to hear Anna’s “Paston Treasure” talk, which as very good. Judy was also there and so, surprisingly, was Lucy, rising from her sickbed and driven by Diana.

In the evening, while Dot was at orchestra, I walked up to the Maddermarket and got a ticket to see The Seagull, in which two of my former colleagues at ECN were performing. The theatre was sparsely populated, but the acting was good, though I think the guy who shot himself at the end (spoiler alert) should have done it much earlier. Trevor Burton was excellent, as was David Newham. The older woman/famous actress didn’t help the plot by being clearly more attractive than the young Nina who was supposed to be luring Trevor away from her.

I nearly missed the opportunity of seeing the play because I was unexpectedly asked to play chess for the A team in the evening, but this proved to be a false alarm: one of the regular players recovered from a bad back and beat the Norfolk champion. So that was all good.

Yesterday I called on the parish treasurer, Susannah, who lives in a house overlooking Carey’s Meadow in Thorpe. A totally stunning view. We had a conversation about splitting the parish share, which we agreed should be 70-30. I have no idea whether this is right or not. I suspect not. (Definitely not. – Ed. mf)

Later, while Dot was shopping after lunch with Sue Eagle and friends, I drove to Paston for a meeting of the trustees. A painfully slow process – and that was just getting there. The meeting itself was OK, though I was surprised to hear that Lucy was disputing the bill from the UEA, although  she’d told me she was paying it. I am having nothing more to do with it.

Many years from now

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Now I’m 64. Son and grandchildren came up to help me celebrate, and we had a good time, despite my feeling rather weak and lacking in energy. On Saturday I rested on the sofa while they went up to the fair on Chapelfield Park, but on Sunday, after eating a good lunch at Prezzo’s, we all went to Winterton and had fun on the beach and in the dunes. Amy was pretty lively, but Oliver was clearly a bit under the weather. In the picture above he is taking a breather with Daddy while Nana and Amy (and Grandad, for a while) went down to the water’s edge. We had had a bit of a run in the dunes first. The weather was really warm and pretty much perfect for the beach, with a refreshing breeze that even Barbara wouldn’t have thought was chilly.

I was fortunate to receive many lovely presents, including a lovely leather bag from Dot and a stack of books that I’m looking forward to reading. One (from David) contained the last stanza of Bob Dylan’s She’s your lover now, which I had been looking for for a while. It was sadly never released officially, and the bootleg version breaks off in the middle of the final verse. Great song. Today Dot has gone to do Philosophy at Ditchingham school, though she still isn’t completely recovered from a really bad cold. As I write I’m listening to the Waterboys, another present (from Phil and Joy, who came round on Saturday morning: it was their wedding anniversary yesterday). I intend to take it easy for the rest of the day.

England performed a small miracle by avoiding losing to Australia in the first Ashes Test, with our last-wicket pair hanging on by their fingernails. David knew the result but kindly didn’t tell us so that we could enjoy it on the highlights.

3 August 2008

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Another very old picture – this time of Dot, which must have been taken in late 1971 or early 1972, because she was clearly learning to drive (see the L-plate on our Austin 1100, which I had bought from a second-hand car dealer on the North Circular: our second car). Could have been taken in Wales, in which case I suspect it was on top of the Berwyn Mountain, scene of a well-known UFO sighting featured recently on television, with Dot’s cousin Adrian an impressive interviewee. Or it could have been somewhere else.

Back to the present, and an extraordinary week, as heat gave way to rain. Nothing extraordinary about that, but if you remember I had a urine infection. I had been given tablets for this at Wells, but by Thursday I had reached a stage where my flow had dried up completely. This was bad psychologically (I was instinctively terrified) and physically (it became more and more painful). I tried the urology nurses and the surgery, but couldn’t get through, so we went to the hospital, where coincidentally I had an appointment at the out-patient clinic to get the result of my blood test – to see if my prostate operation was successful.

Despite the urology nurse (who had picked up my message) trying to get me in quickly, the doctor was still about 15 minutes late, and by then I had lost all interest in the blood test. He examined me, made some phone calls and got me into the Emergency Assessment Unit. I just about managed to ask him about my blood test as I left the room, and it was CLEAR – the operation was SUCCESSFUL! But I was in agony.

Dot and I walked to the EAU, and a doctor tried to insert a catheter – unsuccessfully. There was some kind of blockage. Enter my personal saviour – Wayne, a nursing auxiliary. He gave me a mixture of gas and air (usually used for births), which was the only thing that gave me any relief during the next few hours, during which I was transferred to a bed in the EAU ward. They tried morphine and various other tablets, but only the gas worked – on and off. I can’t ever remember being in such distress.

There was talk about an operation the next day, which didn’t do anything for my mental state, but eventually, after some hard praying by Dot, I got an emergency slot at 8pm (the original appointment was at 2.25pm). Never had losing consciousness come as such a relief. I was told later that as soon as this happened the flow was released, and that they went on to stretch my urethra. It certainly feels as if it has been stretched, and my new catheter is less comfortable than the old one. I am due to return to hospital early next week to have it removed – and possibly to learn how to insert one myself if necessary. Don’t like the sound of it much.

I was in hospital overnight, of course, but discharged early the next day – without speaking to a doctor or being told officially what had happened during the operation. But that’s nothing new. I’ve been feeling very fragile since, but went out for a short walk yesterday afternoon.

I’ve spoken to Big Blue Sky and had hoped to take some poetry books out to them on Friday, but of course that had to be postponed. Also postponed is Andrew’s visit to Norwich next week, which is sad as it’s his 60th birthday on Wednesday. I’ve let The Langleys know, but haven’t told him yet, because he’s out a lot. I’m trying again tonight. It will be nice when things get back to normal, if they ever do.

26 June 2008

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Our new next-door neighbours have moved in. Three large pantechnicons arrived mid-morning yesterday from Lincolnshire and spent most of the day unloading. Two of them then stayed overnight and finished unloading this morning. They left around midday, while I was in the city, paying in some cheques. The street seemed strangely bright.

Mary, the new neighbour, had warned everyone what was going to happen, and police no-parking cones were installed the previous night. We were a bit worried because Dot had arranged for our carpet to be cleaned that afternoon, but in the event it wasn’t a problem. The carpet-cleaning van got into the drive, and the operation went smoothly.

My visit to the city today was the most adventurous I’ve been, though I have been for a short walk every day this week. I’m feeling quite good, but the catheter is uncomfortable. It’s difficult to find an easy position to sit in for any length of time. And it’s strange how vulnerable you feel. What if someone punches me in the stomach? Never mind that no-one has ever punched me in the stomach – the fact that you know you’re very weak there is never far from your mind. You can sympathise with people who are always vulnerable and have to live life like that.

While I was in the city, Dot has been to see her aunt in Hethersett and paid her monthly visit to Park Farm. Phil is due round this afternoon to tell me about his day in Coventry yesterday, when he attended a meeting at The Langleys. Apparently he had a very good return journey and was able to see much of the Euro 2008 semi-final between Germany and Turkey. Turkey were all over Germany; so of course Germany won, 3-2. Euro 2008 is like that. Dot and I have been watching a bit of Wimbledon too. Natalie Dechy deserved to beat the number one seed, so of course she didn’t.

On Tuesday Dot took the MX5 up to be serviced: it passed with no trouble, which is hardly surprising in view of its low mileage. In the evening our Tuesday Group was bring-and-share, and the six of us had a great time: an exceptional feeling of togetherness. I felt pretty good during it all, but of course tired afterwards. I’m reading a couple of books: one by Umberto Eco which is beautifully written and unusual – about a man who loses all his personal memories, but can remember the plots of books. The other is a criticism of the emergent church which has huge holes in it but also some points I haven’t made my mind up about yet. Lucy also sent me an Amy Carmichael book which I have barely started. And I thought I would have loads of spare time! I got out about a dozen videos out of the garage to watch in bed, but so far I’ve only seen a selection of Hancock episodes, which are certainly cheering.

The district nurse came to see me on Tuesday as planned, and removed the dressing from my drain wound, which seems to have healed well. The operation scar also seems fine, and my general functioning down there seems to be sorting itself out. Roll on Sunday, when the catheter is removed. That will seem a huge step in the recovery process.

The weather this week has been quite summery (apart from some brisk winds), which has been good for me, because it means I can go for walks and enjoy long bright days. Hard to believe that the nights are already drawing in – in fact I think I shall refuse to accept it. I’ve written a couple more poems based on the hospital experience, making about five in all, I think. They probably need a bit more work, but two or three of them are quite reasonable.

23 June 2008

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For comparison, this is today’s picture of me, exactly a fortnight after the operation, in the garden. The latter is recovering after yesterday’s high winds, which broke a few pots and scattered shrubs. It also brought down quite a hefty branch into the drive of No 19, which was cleared away by the council this morning. When I went out for a brief walk yesterday afternoon – although it was windy, it was also warm – I was struck on the shoulder by a much smaller branchlet as I made for the steps. Felt reasonably good after the walk, and in the evening we did go to Poringland to see the Robinsons and the Walpoles. Stayed for a couple of hours, and I didn’t really have any trouble, though I was feeling tired by the end.

Today my catheter has been a bit painful, and I took some paracetamol this morning after Phil had visited – but nothing too bad. In the afternoon I went for another walk – this time down by the river. Had quite a long chat with Anton on the way out and Phyllis and Mairead on the way back; so the street is up to date on my condition!

19 June 2008

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A longer gap than I’d anticipated. My operation – a radical prostatectomy and hernia repair – took place on June 9, and the first three days afterwards were pretty unpleasant. I was in quite a bit of pain from trapped wind, for which they gave me morphine, which in turn gave me extremely unpleasant sensations, distorting reality and slowing down time. Yes, it really happens – or possibly doesn’t really happen, but you think it does, so effectively it does. Maybe it speeds up your brain. Sounds harmless, but it’s very frightening. Shutting your eyes doesn’t help.

By late Friday, however, that was going away, and then it was a gradual struggle to get my temperature down (I was fighting some kind of low-grade infection) and everything back to operating normally. Eventually it happened, though I wouldn’t say my bowels are quite right yet, and of course I have to wear a catheter for a couple of weeks. (This blog is not for people with weak stomachs.) Dot brought me home yesterday at around 11am. I have been told not to do too much – an instruction I am happy to comply with without argument.

While I was in hospital Dot visited twice a day: in the early days this was a life-saver. I also got many, many other visitors. On the Sunday – Father’s Day – my son David drove over to see me as a surprise, which was fantastic, because I was just beginning to feel like something approaching normal. He brought me a book he had been reading – House of Suns, by Alastair Reynolds, which I consumed over the next three otherwise boring days. I can thoroughly recommend this for reading in hospital when feeling and getting better: it’s a great science fiction story and compulsive, easily overcoming peripheral distractions.

While I was in hospital I wrote a few poems (or parts of poems) which I’m hopeful about. I was in a bed with a view across the fields and lots of sky. Five other men in the room: two of them were there when I arrived and still there when I left. Lots of good old Norfolk tradition in there which I hope to write about in due course.

From the outside, hospital looks full of things you want to avoid at all costs: tubes attached to your limbs and torso, frequent injections and blood-taking, catheters, wound-drains – all invasive of your body. When you’re in there, none of that is very significant and you hardly notice the very minor discomfort involved. Presumably this is because something much bigger is happening to you and you have no control over it. You have to just let it happen. Other than the pain and the alienation (see first paragraph), it’s not so unpleasant. Just tedious. One of the worst things is waiting for doctors and nurses to do things: something more important almost always intervenes. A new understanding of the word “patient” has become very clear to me.

I was very fortunate to be in hospital at this time of year, when the days are extremely long. It was not really getting dark till well after 10pm, and the sky was brightening at 3.30am. It was intriguing to watch the changes in the weather. Almost every morning dawned bright and promising, and almost every time rain came later, usually around mid-afternoon after the clouds had gradually gathered. Yesterday as I left it was very windy and spotting with rain – not like flaming June at all. Went out in the garden just now and it’s not exactly sun-drenched, though it’s dry and easily bearable without a coat.

The Walpoles from Canada have landed in England, and we hope to see them at the weekend. Not going too well for them so far, Pete’s GPS has been broken, and one of their suitcases was lost in transit.

The picture above was taken on Winterton beach earlier this month.

8 June 2008

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Dot seen through the remains of a building at Winterton, where we went for a shortish walk this afternoon. Today brought a more than welcome change in the weather, which had been grim all week. The sun came out, and it was warm, with a fresh breeze from the north. We walked out to the beach and then into the valley and back along the dunes.

Enjoyed this morning’s service, where I preached about faith, with special reference to people having their prostate out (!) Used two of my favourite three biblical passages, Job 19: 25-27 and Daniel 3: 17,18.

Yesterday was pretty wet, and I did not venture out, but I did manage to write a piece for my website, among other things. I thought today would be my last chance for a while to go for a walk. On Friday evening we had dinner at Dunston Hall, which was good without being outstanding. Very enjoyable, though, and some good wine. Company excellent (Dot).

Just back from church, where seven of our friends met with us to pray for me and my operation tomorrow. Felt inspiring just to be there, and now feel confident that all will be well. Many others have also said they’ll be praying and thinking of me.

This will probably be the last entry for a while. Should be out of hospital by next weekend, but not sure I’ll be feeling up to writing a blog. We’ll see. June was never my favourite month.

3 June 2008

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Dangerous threesome in typical pose on the Whipsnade train: Dot and Oliver pose for the camera while Amy is suddenly interested in something else entirely. I was minding the buggy while the train set off on its 20-minute journey and the rain started to fall after what had up to then been a very pleasant day. Well, it continued to be pleasant: it just became wet.

Yesterday I went for my cystoscopy, with results that turned out to be “normal” – or as normal as you can be with a camera in your bladder. Uncomfortable, but not exactly painful. He was in and out so quickly that it was hard to see how he could be so sure. Still, ours not to reason why; ours but to do, and hopefully stay alive. Halfway through the afternoon I got a call from the hospital telling me my operation is scheduled for next Monday, which came as a bit of a shock. Interesting how you can be quite blasé about having your prostate out in three weeks’ time, but be reduced to a quivering wreck when told it will be next week. Fortunately Diane, who is giving me some spiritual healing, turned up at just that point, so I had to sit down and relax. Hard to turn my mind off, though. I was working out what would have to be cancelled, who I’d have to tell, what I needed to sort out and so on. In fact if all goes well having it next week will be ideal, because I should be recovered in time for most of the summer events.

I e-mailed the Murrays to tell them what was happening, only to discover that Roger has not been at all well and may have something similar – so they probably won’t be coming in August anyway. Dot had quite a conversation with them on the phone and is very disappointed, as she’d hoped we could celebrate my recovery!

Today we finished watching a TV epic called Flood, which is all about London being inundated by a sea surge. Full of holes (ha!) and not very satisfactory. Instead of fleeing to high ground and drowning on the way, why didn’t everyone go into the nearest building? The first floor would probably have done.

We’ve just been to the supermarket to pick up food for tonight. Quite an oppressive day, or maybe I can’t get the operation out of my mind.

30 May 2008

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Back late last night from three days in Caddington, looking after the grandchildren during half term. Journey back was in heavy rain, and so was the journey down on Monday night. In between we had a little dry weather, but plenty of rain too. Vicky is working very hard on a project which is up against a difficult deadline; David took the opportunity to go up to Lancaster on one of his regular visits – a little bit worrying, as he has still got a kidney stone lodged above his bladder, but it shows no sign of moving.

On the Tuesday we stayed in the house, but on the Wednesday we braved the dodgy weather in the afternoon to go to Ashridge Forest, where we had a drink and a snack before popping into the visitors’ centre and shop. Oliver bought a frog, of which he quickly became fond. Amy got a ball and something else, which I’ve forgotten. I bought them a secondhand book each and one for Dot (three for £1). The forest was soggy and muddy. We drove over Ivinghoe Beacon on the way back, which is a pleasant road.

We spent all of yesterday at Whipsnade Zoo, leaving home not much after 10am in fine and dry weather that persisted for several hours before collapsing into solid rain midway through the afternoon, roughly at the point when Oliver and Amy were queueing to go on the train (see picture). We also went on the bus, and Oliver had an earlier ride on the train with me while Amy was on the bouncy castle. We paid two visits to the flying birds display (the first quite exceptional, the second pretty good) and took in the sea lions and the elephants, though we were a bit late for the latter, and Oliver was too shy to push himself forward for a good view. Still, he did see them. The gift shop was total chaos as it was pouring with rain and everyone funnelled in there, but we managed to emerge intact, and with something for each of the children. All in all, a pretty good day, with some nice food from the Marquee Cafe for lunch. Amy attempted a death plunge from her buggy, but this was only partially successful. Plunge spectacular, but not even minor injuries.

Whipsnade has a lot to offer with huge amounts of space and some lovely animals, but it is expensive, unless you live nearby and can get a season ticket.

Today has been mainly catching up, though Dot and I went to Park Farm for the usual routine, which was quite pleasant. I tried to find out the date of my operation, but it hasn’t been fixed yet. The nurse thought it wouldn’t be arranged until after Monday’s cystoscopy, but I should know on Tuesday. She felt sure it would be in June, though. Weather today a bit better, and the brown bin got emptied, though they hid it three doors down after emptying, presumably because they’re a bit miffed at having to empty it.