Wednesday, March 28, 2007
"OPERATION GO FOR THE JUGULAR"
Ok, for the squeamish amongst you, there is blood in this post, so I hope you're not eating breakfast. ( sis )
Having arrived at hospital at 8:30 am, I was put on a trolley and told to wait.
Wait is what I did, as I didn't have the procedure done until about 3 in the afternoon.
That gave me a lot of time to remind myself of the little things I hated about being an inpatient.
Things like crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Eventually I was wheeled into the room, where I learnt that I had been referring to this operation incorrectly.
The correct name for this bit of surgery should have been "Operation Go For The Jugular".
The filter was inserted in an artery in my groin, which was the cause of all the blood running down my arse, hence the name Baboon Butt.
I didn't realise that these contraptions can only go in and come out in the same direction.
This meant that in order to remove the filter, the medical staff would have to go in through my jugular vein!!!!
After receiving some wonderful drug cocktail through the IV line in my arm, I instantly got that funny metallic taste in my mouth and promptly fell into a state of "Ooohhh Yeah! You can do what ever the hell you like to me now and I wouldn't give a rat's arse coz I feel soooo good."
Before I knew it, I was being impaled on some long piece of medical extraction device.......... through the neck.
The whole procedure didn't take all that long really and in the end I was presented with the filter in a little jar as a keepsake.
How nice.
The good thing is I managed to convince one of the nurses, who turned out to be a budding photographer, to snap away while I was on the chopping board.
Lying in wait.
This is what they intended to ram down my neck!
Cover me! I'm going in!
Looking, looking........
The filter on screen with the extraction hook above it.
Got it!
Being wheeled out by the photographer nurse.
Post op. Dazed and confused, but still able to take a selfportrait.
I had no idea the filter was that bloody big!!!
You can see bits of me still stuck to it.
Having arrived at hospital at 8:30 am, I was put on a trolley and told to wait.
Wait is what I did, as I didn't have the procedure done until about 3 in the afternoon.
That gave me a lot of time to remind myself of the little things I hated about being an inpatient.
Things like crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Eventually I was wheeled into the room, where I learnt that I had been referring to this operation incorrectly.
The correct name for this bit of surgery should have been "Operation Go For The Jugular".
The filter was inserted in an artery in my groin, which was the cause of all the blood running down my arse, hence the name Baboon Butt.
I didn't realise that these contraptions can only go in and come out in the same direction.
This meant that in order to remove the filter, the medical staff would have to go in through my jugular vein!!!!
After receiving some wonderful drug cocktail through the IV line in my arm, I instantly got that funny metallic taste in my mouth and promptly fell into a state of "Ooohhh Yeah! You can do what ever the hell you like to me now and I wouldn't give a rat's arse coz I feel soooo good."
Before I knew it, I was being impaled on some long piece of medical extraction device.......... through the neck.
The whole procedure didn't take all that long really and in the end I was presented with the filter in a little jar as a keepsake.
How nice.
The good thing is I managed to convince one of the nurses, who turned out to be a budding photographer, to snap away while I was on the chopping board.
Lying in wait.
This is what they intended to ram down my neck!
Cover me! I'm going in!
Looking, looking........
The filter on screen with the extraction hook above it.
Got it!
Being wheeled out by the photographer nurse.
Post op. Dazed and confused, but still able to take a selfportrait.
I had no idea the filter was that bloody big!!!You can see bits of me still stuck to it.
After waiting for 2 hours under observation, I took off to another part of the hospital to visit Al.
Whilst there I was joined by Dean, who was riding behind him, his son Tony and my mum.
I was glad to see Al was all talk, it meant the drugs had worn off and he was returning back to his normal self.
I also noticed he was quite pissed off that after spending all that time building his hand up to the point where the movement in it exceeded the doctors highest expectations, he now has a smashed up arm from hand to shoulder, as well as no movement or sensation from the elbow down.
He was very keen to get walking again and is definitely feeling the affects of lying in a come for nearly two weeks, but he reckons he'll be able to walk to the loo and shower by the weekend.
Knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised.
He's always been a very independent bloke and the fact that he had to rely on the carers and mates and family to be able to do a lot of the things we take for granted was also pissing him off.
He didn't say anything, but you could read it on his face.
There were also complaints of crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Sound familiar?
It sure did to me.
As for the arm, well he still can't seem to get a definitive answer / decision on what's going to happen with it.
Yet another point of frustration.
Time to pay back some of that support I was getting when I was in that position.
.
Whilst there I was joined by Dean, who was riding behind him, his son Tony and my mum.
I was glad to see Al was all talk, it meant the drugs had worn off and he was returning back to his normal self.
I also noticed he was quite pissed off that after spending all that time building his hand up to the point where the movement in it exceeded the doctors highest expectations, he now has a smashed up arm from hand to shoulder, as well as no movement or sensation from the elbow down.
He was very keen to get walking again and is definitely feeling the affects of lying in a come for nearly two weeks, but he reckons he'll be able to walk to the loo and shower by the weekend.
Knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised.
He's always been a very independent bloke and the fact that he had to rely on the carers and mates and family to be able to do a lot of the things we take for granted was also pissing him off.
He didn't say anything, but you could read it on his face.
There were also complaints of crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Sound familiar?
It sure did to me.
As for the arm, well he still can't seem to get a definitive answer / decision on what's going to happen with it.
Yet another point of frustration.
Time to pay back some of that support I was getting when I was in that position.
.
