This time last week I was hungry, thirsty, nervous and able to move a lot more easily than I can right now…  In case you missed it, last Sunday evening I had my gall stones out.  I am now 17 stones lighter (sadly the stones are of the gall variety, not the pounds and ounces type).  Yes, that’s SEVENTEEN.  And I got to keep them!  They may be teeny tiny but in this case it is quantity not quality that impressed me…

That's them!

It turns out that I am a truly terrible patient.  I refused to put on my gown, surgical stockings and paper knickers until the very last minute (mainly, I admit, because mum ‘just wanted one photograph then she would go home’).  Then, having been walked to the theatre by a small child dressed as a nurse (who claimed she was over 18 but in my view should have still been at primary school),  I interrogated the anaesthetist as to exactly how it all worked…  I’d been told that I’d have a few 1 cm holes made in my tummy, but was he sure they’d actually be able to get my gall bladder out of one of these?  Was it that small or would they have to make one of the holes bigger?  The reassuring answer, it turned out, was that the gall bladder was like a raw sausage that could be squeezed as they popped it out.  This led to questions on how they would manage with a hysterectomy.  I won’t give you the details but I have to say, he was very lovely for explaining despite his obvious confusion over why I’d swapped from details on my procedure to one that was completely unrelated.  I can only assume that nerves had got the better of me as I then asked the small child / nurse if I could have an etch-a-sketch afterwards as that’s what I’d played with after my last operation when I had my tonsils and adenoids out.  Aged 5.

By the time I got into the theatre I had to inform all the people with masks on that I’d forgotten how to breathe so they gave me something to relax me.  All I can remember is it making me giggle.  A lot. 

Then there was lots of boring stuff and surprise on my part that I wasn’t feeling 100% the next day.  It turns out that surgery is quite painful and you do actually have to rest afterwards.  I’m bored of it now though and I feel very silly walking at speeds where elderly ladies can overtake me with ease.  I did draw the line at borrowing a walking stick however…  Anyway, I’m sure it will all feel back to normal soon, and at least I can say that I have lost 17 stone(s)  :o)

PS:  Thank you to all the very lovely people who sent texts, called me posted cards, sent flowers, home grown vegetables (wow, they were good) and, in the case of Sister 2, brought breakfast and took me on an outing :o)x