Today I had the operation. It was a success as far as I know so far and am quite happy. As I write this I am in no pain as such but am pretty tired even though I have spent most of the day with my eyes closed.
Obviously I have to blog about it..
It started well. I was offered a newspaper to read while I was waiting for the surgeon and was given a choice between the Indy and the Daily Mail. Probably just as well I was given the Independent, otherwise I would have probably read that my hernia was caused by Eastern European gypsies or an EU directive on the use of the metric system.
It was a much different experience to the NHS hospital I went to 8 years ago for the same thing. I was there being operated on within a month of finding the problem rather than 6 and my room was more like a confortable hotel stay with Sky TV, ensuite bathroom and food and drink at the touch of a button. I had not been able to eat since the previous day nor drink from 10am and I was getting quite hungry. Having arrived at 10 and filled in some forms top say that I am not allergic to anything and that I have no history of falling over (that's a lie obviously).
The few hours wait were punctuated by visits from various nice people. A lady came to give me the clothes I need for the OP including a lovely pair of mesh underpants. Another came in to take an order for my food. The Surgeon came in to draw on me to make sure he would operate on the correct side and the anaesthetist came in to talk to me more about allergies. A Nurse came to take some of my stats, my heart rate (55 at the time), and my blood pressure which was something like 135/70. The temperature of my left ear was 36 degrees.
I also got a visit from a physio who told me not to do much exercise for 4-6 weeks (others have told me 2-4 weeks and others have told me 1 week). He told me to do yoga or pilates to strengthen my abdominal muscles generally and gave me a leaflet on how to get in and out of bed. I had so many visitors it was great.
At around 2 I got pushed on the bed into the theatre where the anaesthetist started to chat to me about running. She was reading "Born to Run" and had heard about ultra-running. She said she had done a half marathon before and would never do it again. I tried to convince her otherwise but was not doing a great job of it as she had just injected me with morphine and I was high as a kite. I glanced around at all the kit giving me live readings of my heart rate and was imagining what it would be like to be a triathlete. Within seconds I was asleep.
It took a long time to wake up. I was lying there listening to voices and aware that I was awake and where I was but I just could not open my eyes. Soon I was passing in and out of sleep as the anaesthetic (or exposure to tri-stats) wore off. It was around 4pm, I'd been out for about an hour and a half. I was soon wheeled back to my comfy room where Gemma was there and arrived just in time to watch the Man U vs Arsenal FA game. I had a sandwich and a coffee on the way too, it was perfect.
I didn't really feel much pain while sat still but moving can be sore. It's more a paranoia that my insides are going to explode if I move too suddenly. I've been told that I can just take normal ibropufen and paracetemol to ease the pain. The Surgeon came back in to inform he that the operation was a complete success and then handed me a piece of paper. I thought it was going to be a certificate for being really brave but in fact it was 6 photos of my opened up groin. To be honest it could have been anyones innards. I can not say with any confidence "THAT'S MY SMALL INTESTINE". Still, makes a nice memento given that I had nothing removed that I could keep pickled in a jar.
He said I should lay off for a while and certainly not do any "fast" running for a few weeks. Phew. I never did any of that anyway.