I'm telling this story because I am aware that there are very many male caravanners out there in the age bracket where things start to deteriorate in the water works department and may, like I was, be in line for TURP or BNI procedures. The good news is that it isn't all bad news! (in retrospect anyway).
Sunday 23 May - fabulous sunny day travelling back from hot days at Nunnykirk CC site. Monday 24 May - different! This was prostate op day. The hospital arranged a taxi for 06.30 - very good. Arrived at the 'Arrivals Lounge' at 06.50. Doors locked. Another chap already knocking at the door. After a while a person arrived who slightly reluctantly let us in. 'We don't open till 07.15 but you can wait in there'. After that things progressed gradually until at around 11.30 I was on the table in a very undignified position. You mothers would probably recognize it! I'm glad I wasn't looking at me from the surgeon's end of the table! One of the surgeons was introduced to me as a student - so I thought I was going to be practiced on by the apprentice! However, 'student' is relative as he already been in training for seven years. The first job he was given was to paint my nethers with antiseptic - nice work if you can get it! He did seem to have a bit of a problem getting the camera the right way round, but then don't we all? I had opted for a spinal anaesthetic so I was wide awake watching the whole proceedings on the monitor as the camera and instruments intruded up my dignity. This meant I could also chat to the surgeon and anaethstatist, who it turned out was interested in the caravanning world and was looking to buy a VW T5 camper conversion. I told him it would set him back 40 grand or so, but I suppose this is small change to people in his profession - and his wife was a doctor too. After about 50 minutes of slicing and scraping my insides the job was done and they stuck what felt like a half-inch hose up there. That stayed put for the next 24 hours - what a relief to get it taken out!
The next stage of the process was waiting in the recovery room for a bed to become available. Through some administrative mishap the ward I was to be taken to wasn't expecting me until the evening so my wait was longer than planned. Still, this gave me the chance to observe some of the other patients coming out of the theatres - I realised my situation was very mild in comparison with some and this put things into perspective. After some time (not evening after all) I was taken to the ward and to my great relief I was given a single private room. This was very much appreciated as the nature of the condition means that privacy is important - it was to me anyway. The rest of the ward was open-plan and had about 20 beds and seemed old fashioned to me. However a new hospital is nearing completion so I hope the environment will improve for future people going through this in our town.
Not having been in hospital for at least 50 years I was not familiar with the routines and found that time passes only very slowly. I would say that the treatment I got from the nurses was fairly impersonal, but not unfriendly. It was mostly that they seemed so busy, so that sometimes they would promise to come along to do some procedure then forget about it for a while. This was annoying when I had to produce samples then get scanned within ten minutes - I had to go through the process again a couple of times before things got co-ordinated. I was also amazed at the hours the nurses worked - 12 to 14 hour shifts. Can they still be fully efficient at the end of a shift?
On Tuesday morning (day 2) the doctor pronounced me fit to go home that day as tests showed things were functioning ok. Wonderful! Unfortunately I had a bit of a set-back and had some pain in the nether regions, so didn't get chucked out until Wednesday midday. Still, I suppose 2 ´ days wasn't bad for what was significant surgery.
I am now taking things easy at home. My plumbing seems to be recovering reasonably well considering what it has gone through (or what has gone through it!) though there are brief moments of discomfort that I won't go into to and I don't think I'll run a marathon today. Mrs Meldrew2 has put me under strict house-arrest for the next week. I am taking advantage of the enforced idleness, though I may go stir crazy pretty soon. I'm not one for day-time TV! I can't wait to attack those squashed bugs on the front of the caravan that battered us on the journey back from Northumberland. The important thing is that I am back to full form by the end of June for our planned 3-month Europe caravan trip.
By the way, the last stage in the hospital process is being sent to what they call in our hospital the 'Discharge Lounge'. I think they could have thought of a better name, given all the unpleasant discharges that occur in hospitals! Any suggestions?
Sunday 23 May - fabulous sunny day travelling back from hot days at Nunnykirk CC site. Monday 24 May - different! This was prostate op day. The hospital arranged a taxi for 06.30 - very good. Arrived at the 'Arrivals Lounge' at 06.50. Doors locked. Another chap already knocking at the door. After a while a person arrived who slightly reluctantly let us in. 'We don't open till 07.15 but you can wait in there'. After that things progressed gradually until at around 11.30 I was on the table in a very undignified position. You mothers would probably recognize it! I'm glad I wasn't looking at me from the surgeon's end of the table! One of the surgeons was introduced to me as a student - so I thought I was going to be practiced on by the apprentice! However, 'student' is relative as he already been in training for seven years. The first job he was given was to paint my nethers with antiseptic - nice work if you can get it! He did seem to have a bit of a problem getting the camera the right way round, but then don't we all? I had opted for a spinal anaesthetic so I was wide awake watching the whole proceedings on the monitor as the camera and instruments intruded up my dignity. This meant I could also chat to the surgeon and anaethstatist, who it turned out was interested in the caravanning world and was looking to buy a VW T5 camper conversion. I told him it would set him back 40 grand or so, but I suppose this is small change to people in his profession - and his wife was a doctor too. After about 50 minutes of slicing and scraping my insides the job was done and they stuck what felt like a half-inch hose up there. That stayed put for the next 24 hours - what a relief to get it taken out!
The next stage of the process was waiting in the recovery room for a bed to become available. Through some administrative mishap the ward I was to be taken to wasn't expecting me until the evening so my wait was longer than planned. Still, this gave me the chance to observe some of the other patients coming out of the theatres - I realised my situation was very mild in comparison with some and this put things into perspective. After some time (not evening after all) I was taken to the ward and to my great relief I was given a single private room. This was very much appreciated as the nature of the condition means that privacy is important - it was to me anyway. The rest of the ward was open-plan and had about 20 beds and seemed old fashioned to me. However a new hospital is nearing completion so I hope the environment will improve for future people going through this in our town.
Not having been in hospital for at least 50 years I was not familiar with the routines and found that time passes only very slowly. I would say that the treatment I got from the nurses was fairly impersonal, but not unfriendly. It was mostly that they seemed so busy, so that sometimes they would promise to come along to do some procedure then forget about it for a while. This was annoying when I had to produce samples then get scanned within ten minutes - I had to go through the process again a couple of times before things got co-ordinated. I was also amazed at the hours the nurses worked - 12 to 14 hour shifts. Can they still be fully efficient at the end of a shift?
On Tuesday morning (day 2) the doctor pronounced me fit to go home that day as tests showed things were functioning ok. Wonderful! Unfortunately I had a bit of a set-back and had some pain in the nether regions, so didn't get chucked out until Wednesday midday. Still, I suppose 2 ´ days wasn't bad for what was significant surgery.
I am now taking things easy at home. My plumbing seems to be recovering reasonably well considering what it has gone through (or what has gone through it!) though there are brief moments of discomfort that I won't go into to and I don't think I'll run a marathon today. Mrs Meldrew2 has put me under strict house-arrest for the next week. I am taking advantage of the enforced idleness, though I may go stir crazy pretty soon. I'm not one for day-time TV! I can't wait to attack those squashed bugs on the front of the caravan that battered us on the journey back from Northumberland. The important thing is that I am back to full form by the end of June for our planned 3-month Europe caravan trip.
By the way, the last stage in the hospital process is being sent to what they call in our hospital the 'Discharge Lounge'. I think they could have thought of a better name, given all the unpleasant discharges that occur in hospitals! Any suggestions?