Small cusses and nursery rhymes
Oct. 5th, 2024 07:54 amOw!
And very ow this time. Once again I get three sets of mix and match painkillers, told to only use the dihydrocodeine if it gets bad. I didn't need it at all after the last op, maybe once in 3/4 weeks. This time I have had to use it twice in twelve hours. Bloody hell.
Yesterday's sunrise was glorious, ruby sky over the far away hills and a crow cawing in silhouette on a lamp in the hospital carpark. Plenty of beauty always.
The op took place in a smaller local hospital. I told them about the phobia, they said they would give me a pre-med. The premed was much less strong than the last one but it meant that I had to be gurneyed* through the hospital to theatre. That was the strangest view, everything whizzing past above me and most peculiar of all I could hear what seemed like a vast male choir or orchestra singing the nursery rhyme, This Old Man.
This old man
He played one
He played knick-knack
On my drum
With a knick-knack paddywack, give a dog a bone
This old man came rolling home!
This old man!
He played two
He played knick-knack
On my shoe...
There were harmonies and repetitions, all very jolly and triumphant only stopping when I entered the theatre and got stabbed with the cannula. This was much more painful than before, and I cried out.
'It's not technically a needle,' someone said. Thank god, I wanted to reply, because now I know the technical different between a cannula and a hypodermic I feel much better and that didn't hurt at all. Meanwhile, ow, you son-of-a-!
When I woke, I could feel that whatever they had given me was nothing like as strong as for the previous op. Looking around at the two other patients in the ward, one was a young woman in her early twenties, the other an affable lady of 83. It suddenly struck me that while cancer's an awful thing, if I had to go through it at all, it might as well be now. I also remembered warnings about cancer affecting one in three people. Now they say one in two. What happened? Did they just get better at diagnosing it?
It didn't take long before I was clear headed and ready to go home. It's weird, this is a lesser operation but it hurts a lot more. Once again, on no account am I to do anything, but this time the instructions will be easier to follow. Because this time it really smarts.
*'Verbing' nouns, I know, I know.
And very ow this time. Once again I get three sets of mix and match painkillers, told to only use the dihydrocodeine if it gets bad. I didn't need it at all after the last op, maybe once in 3/4 weeks. This time I have had to use it twice in twelve hours. Bloody hell.
Yesterday's sunrise was glorious, ruby sky over the far away hills and a crow cawing in silhouette on a lamp in the hospital carpark. Plenty of beauty always.
The op took place in a smaller local hospital. I told them about the phobia, they said they would give me a pre-med. The premed was much less strong than the last one but it meant that I had to be gurneyed* through the hospital to theatre. That was the strangest view, everything whizzing past above me and most peculiar of all I could hear what seemed like a vast male choir or orchestra singing the nursery rhyme, This Old Man.
This old man
He played one
He played knick-knack
On my drum
With a knick-knack paddywack, give a dog a bone
This old man came rolling home!
This old man!
He played two
He played knick-knack
On my shoe...
There were harmonies and repetitions, all very jolly and triumphant only stopping when I entered the theatre and got stabbed with the cannula. This was much more painful than before, and I cried out.
'It's not technically a needle,' someone said. Thank god, I wanted to reply, because now I know the technical different between a cannula and a hypodermic I feel much better and that didn't hurt at all. Meanwhile, ow, you son-of-a-!
When I woke, I could feel that whatever they had given me was nothing like as strong as for the previous op. Looking around at the two other patients in the ward, one was a young woman in her early twenties, the other an affable lady of 83. It suddenly struck me that while cancer's an awful thing, if I had to go through it at all, it might as well be now. I also remembered warnings about cancer affecting one in three people. Now they say one in two. What happened? Did they just get better at diagnosing it?
It didn't take long before I was clear headed and ready to go home. It's weird, this is a lesser operation but it hurts a lot more. Once again, on no account am I to do anything, but this time the instructions will be easier to follow. Because this time it really smarts.
*'Verbing' nouns, I know, I know.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-05 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-10-05 02:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-10-05 03:49 pm (UTC)Support support. I didn't know that about opioids either, but good to hear.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-06 07:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-10-05 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-10-06 07:25 am (UTC)