A Long Wait (part 2)

I had intended to complete the previous post but things got busy round here with little people.

So basically the last thing I was going on about was how easily it was agreed that my bunions needed attention.  Fast foward to the night before my operation and I'm running about the house like a dafty trying to get on top of housework, kid's stuff and general 'stuff' - partly to be as organised as possible heading into my operation and also as a total distraction about going into an operation.

The morning of the op went smoothly - up early, got organised, had a cup of herbal tea before 6.30 then waited for my lift.  Arrived at the hospital on time and barely had time to sit down before I was called through.  So a quick chat with the doctor to confirm what operation I was about to have and then I was taken through to the ward to sit and wait.  And so began the stream of people who approach you and ask you to confirm your date of birth.  Every 5 minutes.  Every person you talk to in hospital ask you your date of birth.  Sometimes it's even the same person, just 10 minutes later, asking you your date of birth!

Anyway I was apparently due to be second on the list that day but due to a late arrival I was bumped up to first place and was wheeled into the operation theatre ante room just before 9am.  Next then I was aware of was waking up in the recovery ward, both my feet bandaged. 

(including the lovely marker pen instructions!)

A little while later, after a sleep to get the rest of the anesthetic out of my system, I was given a lovely cup of tea and slice of toast.  I mean the bread wasn't the greatest, it is the NHS after all they're not going to spend loads of money on premium thick cut bread, but given I hadn't eaten in roughly 16 hours it was lovely, lovely toast!

I then sat about for a while longer, reading (thankfully I remembered to take my kindle) and watching the nurses rush about dealing with half a dozen different things all at the same time.  I had to wait sufficiently long enough to be allowed to 'walk' on my new feet.  I was given my lovely new shoes and asked to get up and walk.  I was very wary.  Very, very wary.  But I did it.  I was fairly wobbly as these shoes force you to walk on your heels and not put any pressure on the front of your foot.  It was an odd sensation.  Sort of like reverse high heels.  But after the provision of some crutches, I was much more stable and that was it.  About an hour later my lift arrived and I left the hospital.  Feet done.  All I'd been concerned about taken care of.  Well nearly, I still needed to get into the house and upstairs to bed.  But again that was easier than I expected.  It was slow, and everything I do at the moment is slow, but I walked upstairs using only the bannister for support. 

So it's all over and done with.  Now I'm a week and a half into the recovery process and it's going good.  I go back to the hospital in 3 days to have my plastercast changed and stitches removed, and I'm looking forward to seeing my feet, almost excited even!