Yesterday was one of those days I would have been happy to skip altogether.
Herself had what they call a pre-op appointment which was at nine in the morning – bang in the middle of the rush hour. I dragged us out of bed only a couple of hours after going to sleep. Not a good thing. Naturally the roads were chaotic [who the fuck thought it would be a great idea to build a massive office park with only three narrow entrances?] and we were late. Only by a few minutes, but nevertheless we were late.
Now I assumed they were just going to do some tests and then send us on our merry way. I naturally assumed that the operation itself would be the standard – get into the theatre, rip your clothes off and they have whatever organ that’s involved whacked out before the anaesthetic has even taken effect, and then fuck you home with some pain killers.
Times have apparently changed.
First of all we were whisked into a room. A nurse started off by telling us we were late. I let that pass. Then she told us we reeked of smoke. Now I’m not going to take that shit from anyone so I whipped out my pipe [which in fairness hadn’t quite gone out from my last puff in the car park] and told her it was very relaxing and the joy of my life. I almost offered her a drag to calm down, but I restrained myself. She got the fuck off tone in my voice and changed the subject.
Anyhows Herself then had a series of tests where she was plugged into machines. After that we had to endure a marathon quiz test – computer screen after screen of questions. Did Herself ever have a heart attack, suffer from chlamydia, smoke crack cocaine or worst of all, smoke cigarettes. Herself dutifully lied her way through all the answers and I thought that was it.
We then had to get a lift up to the top floor and wend our way through the maze to get some blood samples taken [why the fuck couldn’t the nurse have done that? Above her pay grade?]. Then all the way down to the ground floor again for x-rays. Fuck me but I was knackered at this stage.
We then had to find the first nurse again who dutifully lectured Herself on having animal hairs on her underwear [what the fuck?], how she’d have to get rid of the nicotine stains on her fingers [bloody hell!] and how she’d have to have a shower before coming in before the operation [Herself didn’t smell that bad did she?]. I quickly wheeled Herself out of that room before she exploded.
We then had to endure two lectures.
The first was from a physiotherapist who went through all the exercises the victims had to suffer after the operation [I should maybe explain that at this point there were around twelve fellow victims in the room all waiting for knee replacements – it seems to be quite the fashion these days?]. The wan giving the lecture wasn’t too bad looking so it passed quickly enough.
Then we had a lecture from a nurse who went through the entire procedure, from the moment the victim arrived in the hospital to the moment he or she left. We had all been given books and a party pack of goodies such as special pre-op soap and the like, and this wan went through the entire book [for those of us who couldn’t read?]. Unfortunately she skipped the bit about the operation itself as she reckoned we might not have the stomach for it.
At this point I was beginning to hope that we would be given a guided tour of the theatres and a chance to play with the tools, and possibly even witness an operation or two. Apparently not though. We were turfed out into the cold.
I was rightly bollixed by the time we got home. Knackered, fucked and bollixed. I spent what was left of the day asleep in my chair.
For the first time in ages, I really felt almost as old as I am!