July 24, 2004
Happy 21st...Eventually.
I went to see my consultant. I had an echocardiogram which revealed my false pulmonary valve was leaking quite badly. I was monitored closely for a month or so. I was eventually called in to have the valve repaired. Now this would be a simple procedure under normal circumstances. I was in hospital, was seen by a whole gang of doctors. Doctors I had never seen before. Some had American accents, some were Japanese, some were European. I finally saw my normal team. D.r Rigby and M.r Lincoln. My god I thought, Mr. Lincoln operated on me when I was six. How can he still be alive AND operating?
I was in 2 weeks and still no operation! I had test after test, lung function after lung function test. This wasn't normal. I would under normal circumstances have had my operation and been home by now! A doctor came to see me to say that there was to be another surgeons meeting the next day and they were going to discuss my operation. The problem seemed to be the complexity of my condition. More tests followed. The Queen was due to officially open the new wing of the hospital where my ward was. It was decided that as I had been kept waiting, I would be the one that she was presented to on my ward and I would get to meet her and have a few words. Which was a nice bonus.
Then on Sunday afternoon, Mr. Lincoln, my surgeon, who I know looked in with admiration rather than fright came to see me in the TV room. He explained that the operation was going to be dangerous, because of the complexity of the first operation, the work they did, then the level of scar tissue and the fact that they had never replaced a pulmonary valve twice on anyone with my particular complaint. So he said that the surgeons were split and it was decided that it was to be my decision to have the operation or not. I was to think about it and let them know. I had to consider the quality of life if I did not have it and the risks if I did. It was a hard decision to make. The first time I would ever have to sign the consent forms myself. I decided to have the operation.
The day of my operation was the day I was due to meet the Queen! So I missed out on that. Oh well it wasn't to be. I was slightly scared, the risks were explained and I really wasn't sure if I would be waking up later. I asked my mum not to come on the day of the operation. I wanted to be alone in thought. I remember singing to myself a few lines from a song "don't say a prayer for me now, save it for the morning after". I was wheeled down to the operating theatre, watching the ceiling lights whiz by one after another and wondered was this the last thing I was going to see. I remember going into the room and having the gas and injection and counting 10,9,8,7......I think I had an NDE (near death experience). I can remember being surrounded by such bright light and a really warm feeling, seeing silhouettes of people that I somehow knew and then I was suddenly awake and my mum was over my bed breathing cigarette breath all over me!
I was in intensive care. I didnt have a clue what time it was or what day it was. I still had the tube in down my throat and I was as dry as could be. I drifted off to sleep again. When I woke the tube had gone and I was allowed some water on those little lollipop stick sponge things. Of course I was greedy and wanted lots of water. I was sick. The nurse wasn't impressed. I noticed that I was sitting up in bed, had a dressing down the length of my chest. It was only then that I realized I was alive! There was no pain at all. It was just like I was sitting up in bed relaxing. I had the tubes removed from my stomach which was draining blood away. I thought it was too soon myself, but they must know what they were doing.
Shortly after I could feel my heart racing and I was breathing in and out very fast at the same time. An oxygen mask was placed over my face and nurses were around me. One asked, "Is it your asthma?" Excuse me love, but I am breathing in and out in one breath and you want me to answer questions!!! I shook my head no. It was getting worse. I was sweating. I could see my heart rate going up and up, 118, 121, 136. If they didn't do something I would have a heart attack just watching the screen! A doctor came and then a portable x-ray machine. I was x-rayed and then an anesthetist came, opened a tray and cut into my side, pushed in a tube and mmmmmmmmm heaven, I felt so much better. My heart rate dropped and my breathing slowed. I was right, they did take the tubes out too quick! I had blood in the lungs.
Because of this little episode I was in intensive care for 4 days rather than the 3 as planned. I had made friends with an elderly gentleman called Peter on my ward prior to having my operation. He had had one of his lungs taken away. He was very concerned for me, obviously hearing the doctors come to me to discuss my case, as was his middle aged nephew. In fact the nephew came down and managed to see me for two minutes in intensive care because they were worried what had happened to me! Just before I was to leave intensive care and still a bit sleepy several figures appeared at the entrance of the bay, standing about 10 feet away from me was the Queen and her entourage! She wore a beautiful blue dress coat, blue hat and a broach. She waved at me and smiled while doctors explained what I had had done. I managed to wave back slightly and crack a smile. I was happy that I had seen her afterall!
PART 2.
Back on the ward was when the pain set in, not from the operation but from my new friend Peter. He made me laugh so much with his antics, that my chest hurt. Laughing makes your chest expand and I was laughing so hard that I had to hold a pillow to my chest. Poor Peter, he could hardly breathe as it was, he was wheezing as he was laughing. He had a way of finding something hilarious about each nurse or one of the ladies that came round with the cups of tea and biscuits. He was a bit of a piss taker, but it was all good clean fun. Then something happened that I never counted on. I was going through the menopause!! I suddenly started having the most awful hot flushes and sweats. I was burning up and the sweat was ringing from me. Apparently this is quite normal when the heart is played with. They lasted for hours ad hours at a time, I had to change my bed clothes several times a day and night.
A couple of days after being on the ward, I started to notice that I was feeling increasingly cold and a bit light headed. I was put on 15 minute observations. I had a blood test and it was found that i was very low on zinc. I was given two bags of blood by transfusion and confined to bed while I was receiving it. Which didn't go down well with me! I had my dresing removed and a much lighter one put in its place. I noticed a blue wire sticking out of my scar at the top and the same at the bottom of the scar, only this one had a little bead atached to it. I asked a nurse and she said it was internal stitches. I did notice I did not have any external stitches which I thought was really great. Me being silly though, they stitched me up from the inside!
When it was the day for me to go home a nurse came and said that I would have to have my stitches out. What? I havent got any. Then she explained. The blue wire was in fact stitching and the beads were to help pull them out, but since the bead had fallen off the top they would have to pull it all from the bottom. I told them its okay, I'LL GO HOME WITH THEM IN. I was more frightened of having the stitches out than the operation! Well, what an experience, acting like a baby rather than a near 21 year old I protested! As the nurse pulled this wire my whole chest crumpled as if it was like a piece of paper that had been screwed up in your hand. I was sure my chest was going to burst open. Of course it neve didr. It is something I don't look forward to in the future. It was more discomfort than pain. I don't wish to frighten anyone reading this. It just was the weirdest thing I had ever seen!
It was fast approaching my 21st Party and my Mum had arranged a very special party with all my work friends, friends and family. My dad helped to oragnise it in part, his birthday is the day before mine so he was having a joint thing with me. Although they had been divorced for many years they were still friendly and sociable. My life with my health and my home life with my dad who was addicted to gambling, is an entirely seperate story and worth a blog all on its own! We had the hall at our local private members club and it was packed. I had my favourite live band at the time, they were a 50's and 60's band and were cockney through and through, very funny and entertaining.
Unknown to me I had a special surprise waiting. I had seen a young 18 year old singer at another club. It was like love or lust at first sight! My mum had booked her and she popped out of a giant cardboard cake! She sat me on a chair in the middle of the dance floor and sang a couple of songs to me, verging on a lap dance! It was great, one of the greatest moments in my life. She gave me signed posters and a copy of a single that she had just released. Everyone was saying how well I looked and how much energy I had. I sucked up every minute of it. We had a party back at home after that had about another 40 guests, which was tight as we only had a two bedroom house. It went on all night. I even had a 'romantic' present that night, someone who I thought was out of my league...well I woke up with her the next morning. What a party, what great presents I had. I loved life and loved being alive.
Posted by Lee on July 24, 2004 01:16 PM