Tales from the Wigwam
Unable to join the team on their walk, which I think is in Weardale, because I have had a knee replacement, I'm getting bored sitting around, bending the knee and possibly eating too much.
Because of my interest in Native Americans/First Nations and the ongoing knee problem (now hopefully solved) I have cheekily adopted the name Chief Wounded Knee.
For those of you in the UK who continually criticise the NHS allow me to tell my story.
I've had osteo arthritis in my knee for several years, tolerated, supported with various braces and potions but finally this year felt something must be done'
January: telephone conversation with GP, booked an appointment with a physio.
Still January: saw physio., opted for injection and back up call after 12 weeks.
After 12 weeks: Call from physio, told him the injection had no effect. He said to make an appointment for an X Ray of knee.
Very early April: X Ray at local hospital. Radiographer said (unofficially) didn't look good.
April 11th: saw surgeon at local hospital. He said I needed a Total Knee Replacement and could have it on May 21st. I said thanks of course but told him we had a holiday beginning that day. The surgeon asked how long the flight was and when I told him he said four hours was considered long haul and I must wait at least two months after it because of the risk of DVT. He offered to do the knee on August 22nd.
August 22nd: Arrived at hospital at 7.30am, greeted by a friendly lady who directed me to the Day Surgery Unit.
In the unit I was asked for my name and date of birth and told that Malcolm would now walk me down to the prep area. Once there I took a seat and waited a few minutes before a nurse asked me my name and date of birth, gave me a hospital gown to wear and took away my overnight bag. The anaesthetist came in, asked my name and d.of b and promised to take care of me. The surgeon came in, made a mark on my leg and wrote TKR, just to make sure he had the right one.
I got on to a bed and was wheeled to an ante room near the theatre. Jovial Jason asked my name and d. of b and what music I would like to listen to during the operation. I asked for Simon and Garfunkel, he thought I would have gone for the Beatles or Stones.
Some time before the day for the operation I had been given a bottle of anti-bacterial hair and body shampoo, with strict instructions to use it two days before the operation and on the morning of the operation, making sure I washed thoroughly, especially the hairy bits.
Regardless, Jovial Jason wiped my back with what was possibly a very weak solution of domestos. The anaesthetist, having asked my name and d.of b gave me what he called a spinal blocker, guaranteed to make things pain free.
And in we went, my upper body cocooned in an electric blanket and a tent placed over chest and head as Mrs Robinson was hiding it in the pantry with her cup cakes.
Once the team got to work I could hear what sounded like an electric sander and later my body shook as what seemed to be a hammer was applied. But pain free. Unfortunately the ear plugs fell out so from then on I could hear the chatter of the surgical team. Obviously the job was nearly over, non of the cries you hear in medical films, more like discussions on which pub to go to tonight!
After an hour and a half I was transferred, with great skill and the help of a large plastic board, onto a bed and wheeled off to the recovery ward. Once the nurse had checked name and d.of b and taken temperature and blood pressure I was left to recover, which I did, but hoping I looked better than the man across the room.
After an hour we were off to ward 8, name, d.of b. , temperature and blood pressure. A nurse asked if I would like something to eat, and not having had a bite for twelve hours I accepted the offered sandwich, crisps and chocolate cake.
Another knee recipient was brought in, we chatted on and off, dozed on and off and had regular visits from nurses checking temperature and blood pressure.
I was told that if I could demonstrate an ability to walk with crutches and could climb up and down stairs I would be allowed home that evening. But most important, I must have a wee! Never been so determined to visit the toilet, I poured down as much water and tea as I could. The question "Have you been" began to replace the d.of b. bit.
At some point in the afternoon a nurse asked me what I would like for dinner. A bit of a put down because I hoped to go home but I ordered sausage and mash with fresh fruit for afters.
A while later a young lady physio came in, asked if I thought I could use a zimmer frame and crutches and climb stairs. Determined to get home I crossed the room with the frame, took the crutches and headed own the corridor to the stair case room (The hospital is all on one floor, in one room there is a short flight of pretend stairs that go nowhere, which I managed without a problem) Back on the corridor I spotted the patient toilet, headed for it and much to my relief performed.
Back on the ward dinner appeared, sausage, mash and peas, and it was hot. I needed food.
A second demonstration of my ability to walk with crutches was followed by a visit from a nurse who took blood samples (and asked d of b. )and informed me that I would be taken to X ray shortly. She warned me that the porter thought he was Lewis Hamilton and she was right, he zipped down the corridors, avoiding all obstructions until we reached the Xray department. After a few minutes the door opened and a young lady asked my name so I replied 5/4/1944. She laughed and asked if I was tired of being asked.
Quick X ray and back to the ward. About 8pm a nurse asked me if I wanted to go home. A quick yes, a quick change from hospital gown to my own clothes and I was wheeled down to the main entrance. My lift home arrived in a few minutes, I thanked the nurse who had brought me to the door and off we went, home with a large bag of painkillers.
I have written this for a few reasons. One, I have little to do as I can't go out walking, cycling, gardening or driving. Read a lot and watched more TV than usual.
Two. I would like to thank all the staff at the hospital who took care of me. From the meeter and greeter, through the theatre staff and the ward staff I was treated so well and cheerfully.
THANKS NHS, you are fantastic.
ps Two days after I could walk across our living room unaided. A week later I could walk up and down our street with first two crutches, then one, then a walking stick. Amazing. and I stopped taking pain killers a week ago.
Glad it went so well. Does that mean we'll be at the pub at the end of the month?
ReplyDeleteGreat account of you successful surgery. I’ve worked in the NHS for 46 years (can’t believe it myself!) and although it’s always the doctors, nurses, porters, physios, radiographers who get a mention-there’s dozens ,if not hundreds , of other occupations involved in patient care and with the smooth running of our great institution. Naysayers are keen to talk the service down but we all aim to do our jobs to the best of our ability despite constant criticism from certain parts. Hope your recovery continues to improve… always look forward to your walks! ASL
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