27 hours for nothing

Things have not gone to plan. After being woken at 6am from the best sleep in a week, a cup of tea and the first drip of the day. 6:10am they put up the Nil by Mouth sign. A very long day of watching the clock go round interspersed with changes of drip. At 5:30, nearly 12 after the NBM sign went up the Aneasthetist came round to go through her checklist and explain what would happen. The only problem is nothing happened. By 8pm I had a splitting headache from dehydration, so they gave me IV paracetamol, then hooked the normal drip back up. At 9:30pm they told me I’m cancelled. So 27 hours after my last meal and 16 hours after the last drink, I’m trying not to pig, because I’m fucking Nil by Mouth from midnight!

I’m shattered emotionally and physically, I would cry but I can’t spare the liquid.

Just waiting for the tummy jab, that will just about put the lid on a shit day, but maybe she’ll take pity and let me off that agony

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15 Responses to “27 hours for nothing”

  1. Loo Says:

    oh God. I’m so full of sympathy for you right now. what a horror show!

  2. Susie Says:

    Doesn’t help how you’re feeling right now, but … “this too will pass” …:)

  3. Pat Moore Says:

    You poor thing!

  4. Kristi Says:

    I would be crying and cursing and calling for a lawyer!!! Hang in there…

  5. Skippetty Says:

    OMG! This is like “Operation Gone With the Wind”!! How much more epic and drawn-out can they make this? I’m sooooo sorry you have to go through this Kev! Sympathy hugs. I hope they finally get to operate today. x

  6. V Says:

    Oh Kevin! I hope the surgery has happened this morning. Hugs.

  7. globie Says:

    It’s done. Taken to Theatre at 9:30am, kind of conscious again at Noon. 1:30pm sitting up drinking Tea though still groggy and realising how sore I am as I wake up more.

    Thanks for all of your support especially the last couple of days, it’s meant a lot hearing my email ping and reading all your good wishes.

    One step at a time now, though I’ve never been good at patience, though I’m so skinny now I’m tempted to try Pasasana , on 2nd thought I’d probably throttle myself with the drip line!

  8. Kristi Says:

    Thank goodness!!! I was thinking about you this morning. Glad to hear the surgery is over.

  9. V Says:

    Well done for enduring it! When will they send you home?

  10. globie Says:

    I have yet to see a Dr so no idea what it’s like under the massive thick bandages. There was a rumour about escaping tonight, but I think one more night may be best.

  11. Pat Moore Says:

    Glad to hear that part of it is over. I hope things go better for you from now. Keep your spirits up – you’ve turned the corner!

  12. daydreamingmel Says:

    When I told Cary this morning about your day yesterday she said “You british are so polite, in America we wouldn’t take it, we’d be screaming WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE???”!! I think poor Susan was still in savasana at this point…
    I thought this would amuse you 🙂

  13. globie Says:

    Mel, thanks you made me laugh, it was good to do that. I am still in, but not attached to a drip 🙂
    I may go home tomorrow

  14. Ragdoll Says:

    Hooray! So glad it’s finally done.

    Definitely. No. Pasasana.

  15. globie Says:

    Hi R, it’s so good to see an end

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