Guess I knew it had to happen and sure enough here comes the pain.
Last Friday was when I had my Oesophagetonomy operation. Since then I have enjoyed the all encompassing luxury of an Epidural managing my pain.
"On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the worst pain possible what is your pain level sir?"
'Zero' I would blithely reply.
I did not get away with it Scot free though. One ingredient of the Epidural medication mix supported an Allergy I have, of which I was not previously aware, to many of the wound dressings used. This, plus fact my epidural delivery tube loved 'beeping' no matter how I tried to lie down gave rise to some sleepless nights as my skin went on red chilli flavoured allergic fire.
So this mornings removal of Epidural pain relief support was something special. The large dressing sticking all the paraphernalia in place in the middle of my itching back was first removed. Bliss number one. Then lovely nurse massaged a soothing balm into my back. Bliss number two. Finally, due to Epidural being partly a needle in the spine, I was told to lie still, on my back for one hour, within the comforting coolness of the healing balm. Bliss, big bliss number three. In fact big heavenly bliss.
So you see I was having a really good day up to this point. The good time continued too as my sister and hubby called in to see me and I accompanied them on a walk down the hospital corridor dressed in my latest hospital gown fashionably dress accessorised with accompanying five wheel rolling stainless steel drip supporting dangling tubes which protruded from underneath my gown and they were connected to.... mmm! .... another days story maybe?
Oh! I forgot; special for this season too, my nose drain elegantly supported by good old fashioned white surgical gaffer tape. Those coloured nose support tapes are just soooo last year! As I, and my trusty Physio helper returned to the ward I felt the first twinge of real pain in the muscles around my middle which, my trusty surgeon informs me, have taken a real bashing.
Good old NHS though. The new, Morphine pain relief regime was promptly explained to me. You don't even have to go out on the street to buy it down here in Bournemouth. So here's me at seven thirty at night enjoying my fourth 'cup o tea' of the day and reasonably comfortable but now acutely aware of the extent and number of 'surgical slicings' I, or rather, my body have been exposed to. Coughing, after, I am informed, having my right lung totally collapsed is a new and, let's just say 'different' experience.
Ho Hum and on we go.
