Hospital time

Yesterday was the big day! Carpal tunnel release surgery that I have been putting off for years! My right hand was done about twelve years ago, but the left hand, which I use for writing and painting, lasted a bit longer. All of this was no doubt brought on by years of hard labour in the kitchen and garden – what could be more repetitive than digging, chopping, slicing, dicing and whisking?
I had to be at the clinic at 06h30 and of course the dogs woke me at 04h00, robbing me of a further hour’s sleep, so by the time I reported at Admissions, I was ready for bed and aimed to catch a nod before going into theatre. No such luck.
Besides being constantly disturbed by the ultra-efficient and may I say excellent nursing staff for endless blood pressure, oxygen and sundry observations, I had to endure the inane conversation next door. Every time I closed my eyes, a voice would call me – the surgeon’s assistant, the anaesthetist, the therapy lady conducting a study for the surgeon, and then an ECG because of my advanced age. Well, there’s a luck – low resting heartbeat, perfect BP – the body of a 20-year-old.
I kept telling them I was trying to sleep, so they probably thought I’d had a pre-med and I duly  arrived in the theatre wide awake but with my eyes closed as there was no way I wanted to see anything in there. After some cheerful banter from the delightful doctors and threats to keep me awake so they could ask me questions, I eventually woke up two or three hours later, having at last caught up on my sleep! In fact I was out for the count until late afternoon. Anaesthetics never did agree with me. Lucky I didn’t have a pre-med as well.