Yesterday I went to hospital, had a general anaesthetic, had a tooth removed, woke up, and was driven home, all in the space of an afternoon.
It was all pretty easy, and that experience, along with a few conversations and pondering recently, have just put things into perspective a little.
I walked into Treliske hospital with an apprehensive feeling in my belly. It could have been partly the fact that I was hungry after not eating all morning. But I know that people's grimaces when I told them i was having wisdom teeth out, AND the fact that I'd not heard particularly positive things about the hospital didn't help.
Actually we were quite pleasantly surprised about how nice the hospital looked - it felt more like a museum or art gallery to me! All colourful and paintings everywhere, which I kind of liked. But then my memory of hospitals is at least 20 years old - apart from a handful of visits to relatives, I've not spent any time in hospital since I was about 5 years old. I know I was in quite a bit as a baby, but those are memories for my parents, not me. Which made me realise how easy I've had it. Watching past people sat drinking coffee and navigating the corridors, I wonder how much time they spend there. How long ago they stopped noticing the paintings on the walls or started hating that turquoise colour in the entrance.
One of the students I've been supporting in one of my jobs this year is 21. She was born with lymphoma (cancer of the blood) and later developed lymphodema in her leg, which causes massive swelling and make her prone to nasty skin infections, which she is suffering from at the moment. She could barely walk when I saw her the other day. She has to make frequent trips to specialists in London. It just brings it home, that we don't really know what so many people have to put up with, what's become normal to them. I am so quick to complain, and this week I am reminded to shut up a bit more and be thankful.
When being talked to by a friendly nurse I thought about friends who spend every day working in hospitals, a sister who's a physiotherapist and a sister-in-law who's a nearly finished training as a midwife. About the trials and tears that I know come with their jobs as well as the satisfaction and relationship with patients and joyous moments. When the surgeon talked me through the risks of removing a tooth that was so close to a nerve, without very strong reasons to do it, I thought about the things I've learned through supporting students this year on various health-related courses. About guidelines, and things going wrong, and procedures in place to improve the quality of care and avoid disasters that have happened in the past. I thought about criticisms, and money and actually how amazing it is that I can have this done for not very much money at all.
I thought, we're all people, aren't we, on all sides. People with stories, and good days and bad days. And some of us are struggling more than others. And a lot of us forget to be thankful.
I was nervous, but I thought about people who are terrified of hospitals, needles, doctors. People for who surgery is a life and death situation. Relatives in the waiting room who don't know what the outcome will be. I did feel a bit like I was in a movie when they put the oxygen mask on my face and I was surrounded by three or four people all chatting and my legs went a bit funny then BAM. I had no idea anaesthetic worked so fast! It's pretty weird to think about how NOT in control you are then. But it was one of those things I had to choose not to worry about and let them do their job. And thankfully I didn't have any wacky dreams, which was my other worry.
And I woke up, not long after, one tooth down, but everything else present and correct. I did think it was a bit rude of them to make me move so soon after waking up - like, what are you serious, no way can I sit up! And where is my husband? Isn't he meant to be by my bedside, holding my hand? OK - yes - too many movies. (This was all in my head, out loud it was probably more like eurrrghar. um num num). Llewellyn said I looked like a zombie when I walked/stumbled through the door where he was waiting.
But it wasn't long until we could head home and I could curl up in bed with movies for the next, uh, 24 hours! (feeling bit guilty, I never do that! - which is why I'm now up and showered and writing a blog post in an attempt to be vaguely productive with all this time I cleared for 'recovery'. I'm not complaining though, proper job starts properly next week so kind of nice to give my brain a break before then!).
So yeh there's my thoughts, I know they've not ordered or structured very well. But, to be honest, today I don't really care. It's friday night and we're off to some friend's for pizza. Well they will eat pizza. And I will sip soup from a teaspoon.
It was all pretty easy, and that experience, along with a few conversations and pondering recently, have just put things into perspective a little.
I walked into Treliske hospital with an apprehensive feeling in my belly. It could have been partly the fact that I was hungry after not eating all morning. But I know that people's grimaces when I told them i was having wisdom teeth out, AND the fact that I'd not heard particularly positive things about the hospital didn't help.
Actually we were quite pleasantly surprised about how nice the hospital looked - it felt more like a museum or art gallery to me! All colourful and paintings everywhere, which I kind of liked. But then my memory of hospitals is at least 20 years old - apart from a handful of visits to relatives, I've not spent any time in hospital since I was about 5 years old. I know I was in quite a bit as a baby, but those are memories for my parents, not me. Which made me realise how easy I've had it. Watching past people sat drinking coffee and navigating the corridors, I wonder how much time they spend there. How long ago they stopped noticing the paintings on the walls or started hating that turquoise colour in the entrance.
One of the students I've been supporting in one of my jobs this year is 21. She was born with lymphoma (cancer of the blood) and later developed lymphodema in her leg, which causes massive swelling and make her prone to nasty skin infections, which she is suffering from at the moment. She could barely walk when I saw her the other day. She has to make frequent trips to specialists in London. It just brings it home, that we don't really know what so many people have to put up with, what's become normal to them. I am so quick to complain, and this week I am reminded to shut up a bit more and be thankful.
When being talked to by a friendly nurse I thought about friends who spend every day working in hospitals, a sister who's a physiotherapist and a sister-in-law who's a nearly finished training as a midwife. About the trials and tears that I know come with their jobs as well as the satisfaction and relationship with patients and joyous moments. When the surgeon talked me through the risks of removing a tooth that was so close to a nerve, without very strong reasons to do it, I thought about the things I've learned through supporting students this year on various health-related courses. About guidelines, and things going wrong, and procedures in place to improve the quality of care and avoid disasters that have happened in the past. I thought about criticisms, and money and actually how amazing it is that I can have this done for not very much money at all.
I thought, we're all people, aren't we, on all sides. People with stories, and good days and bad days. And some of us are struggling more than others. And a lot of us forget to be thankful.
I was nervous, but I thought about people who are terrified of hospitals, needles, doctors. People for who surgery is a life and death situation. Relatives in the waiting room who don't know what the outcome will be. I did feel a bit like I was in a movie when they put the oxygen mask on my face and I was surrounded by three or four people all chatting and my legs went a bit funny then BAM. I had no idea anaesthetic worked so fast! It's pretty weird to think about how NOT in control you are then. But it was one of those things I had to choose not to worry about and let them do their job. And thankfully I didn't have any wacky dreams, which was my other worry.
And I woke up, not long after, one tooth down, but everything else present and correct. I did think it was a bit rude of them to make me move so soon after waking up - like, what are you serious, no way can I sit up! And where is my husband? Isn't he meant to be by my bedside, holding my hand? OK - yes - too many movies. (This was all in my head, out loud it was probably more like eurrrghar. um num num). Llewellyn said I looked like a zombie when I walked/stumbled through the door where he was waiting.
But it wasn't long until we could head home and I could curl up in bed with movies for the next, uh, 24 hours! (feeling bit guilty, I never do that! - which is why I'm now up and showered and writing a blog post in an attempt to be vaguely productive with all this time I cleared for 'recovery'. I'm not complaining though, proper job starts properly next week so kind of nice to give my brain a break before then!).
So yeh there's my thoughts, I know they've not ordered or structured very well. But, to be honest, today I don't really care. It's friday night and we're off to some friend's for pizza. Well they will eat pizza. And I will sip soup from a teaspoon.
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