It seems an age since me and my crutches and my cushions (to raise the chair) were sitting in frozen terror at the hospital 7.30 on Friday morning. I can't quite believe that it is done, dusted, and hopefully over. IF all continues to go well. We hobbled slowly and painfully up to the ward. Captain Butterfly was not allowed to stay with me this time, which was upsetting, but probably nicer for him.
The prelims dragged their weary way - I was last on the list that morning, so didn't actually arrive in the operating theatre until nearly 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I was offered (and took) two more of those pre-op fizzy drinks during the wait. I was too scared to feel either hungry or thirsty but they say it is better if you take them. My young surgeon made a lot more of my being a Jehovah's Witness this time - double checking the position about blood. He was fine about it, just wanted to make sure.
At one point one of the preliminary nurses told me she was going to observe my breathing for a few minutes.
Instantly I forgot how to breathe. I was beginning to turn blue - with a crash team seeming imminent - when she looked away and I was able to do it again. "Never tell the patient you are going to do that" said one nurse thoughtfully.
On the way into the theatre, a nurse came up to me to say that she had a cousin who was a Jehovah's Witness - and so she had come over to say hello to me. I asked her to say hello back. It gave me a nice warm feeling. I prayed constantly to Jehovah through the whole five days. And what a difference it made. I needed so much help.