Have you ever dreamt that you were walking along a busy road, completely naked. It seems to be quite common. Many have said they’ve had that mini-nightmare, and I think I had it about 20 years ago.
Something rather similar happened to me yesterday. I found myself walking along the very busy Euston Road dressed only in pyjamas. It was a rather tense minute and it wasn’t a nightmare, it was true. The ambulance had dropped a nurse and me a little way from the hospital, so we walked the rest of the way through the Monday afternoon shoppers. Not something I’ll forget easily!
I’ll cut the rest of yesterday’s saga short. Of all the options this was the most unexpected. Normal admission with yet again checks on blood pressure, height, weight, Covid et al. Then a briefing by one of the two doctors who would insert the PEG. Then finally onto the operating table.
Hadn’t expected the pipe with nozzles that go into each nostril, or the very uncomfortable block to bite on, through which I presume the camera would be passed down to my stomach. The cannula in my arm (for the hydration drip during last night) was used to syringe in the sedation liquid. Sedation is meant to calm you down, not necessarily to knock you out. I was very calm anyway, very ready for the operation and pleased that it was happening at last.
That’s all I remember till I woke up in a different room about 30 minutes later. Although it was only a sedative, it had made me completely unconscious – a deep and much needed sleep. “Great!”, I thought, when I came round, “It’s over and there’s no pain!”. Then they told me what had happened:
As they were starting the procedure, just after I’d lost consciousness, I had tried to pull out the nostril pipes and had been trying to get rid of the large thing in my mouth. Always erring on the side of safety – quite rightly – they had decided to cancel the operation. I knew nothing of this till they told me later.
So it’s not been done. It’s the last thing I’d expected, and it seems it was because of David’s restlessness and physical trouble-making while deeply comatose. That’s a weird feeling. I am responsible for something even though I have no memory of it. It’s not uncommon: they said they’d seen it in other cases also. But it was disappointing, to say the least.
So everything is in a state of flux. There’s a small chance they will try again this week, but with a full-on general anaesthetic to force me into submission! If not this week there could be a long delay. Even more disappointing.
Not much more to say. I was brought back to my neurology hospital on a stretcher in an ambulance and then unexpectedly – there are so many unexpected things happening these days – I was given a hot puréed meal, the first food for 24 hours. If they can’t fit me in for the operation this week (and if they can I guess I’ll have to stay here till it happens), then it’s back home and back to the puréed food and thickened liquids and laborious and tiring efforts to swallow without choking. Not too easy but I’ll manage.
And there was I, hoping to end this with a quip about people enjoying YouTube while I had a new toy to play with: MeTube. Ah well ….
So sorry to hear the operation did not take place hope they can do it this week
love as always Barbara xx
Oh Dave, I’m so sorry. What a b!. Do hope it can be done this week and that you can still keep positive. Bless you, for letting us all know – and for even managing to inject some humour into the update! xx
It beats me how you manage to find anything smileable at in the whole process. You must have read the same Readers’ Digest as I did with its eternal philosophy of laughter being the best medicine. Courage, mon brave- and hold on in there !
Dave, you are totally amazing to still write the blog and keep us updated. We are so very sorry that it didn’t go ahead and really hope that it can and will take place very soon. Thinking of you and sending so much love xxxx
So sorry David to hear that your procedure did not take place yesterday. Do hope you will be kept in and the operation goes ahead this week. Thinking of you with love.
Ffbbff (you know what I mean). Honestly you could not make this up. However turning a disaster into something humorous is a family trait which you obviously have in spades. Here’s hoping they can re-schedule your procedure for this week. Keep strong. Love always Ez x
Ditto all the previous comments my dear, and thinking of you every day. My knees are worn out with praying!
Singing the “Irish Blessing” with my Zoom choir this week, I always remember Father Bernard’s blessing at the end of his services “May God hold you in the palm of His hand”. What more is there to say?
Bad luck David – I had an attempt to send a camera down to my stomach once, and I just refused to allow it down my throat (even though I wanted it to happen) – some of us just have these strong reactions. I hope they manage to fit you in soon; i’m sure it would be a relief not to have to struggle with the eating palava…
So sorry to hear about the hitch David – hope it gets done soon. Having had quite a few camera down throat procedures I must say though, if I knew a source of the Sedation substance I would buy a good supply. Its such a lovely experience!!!
Crikey David, there was me blissfully thinking it would be easy peas.
Hang in there and good luck and hugs