14. Sister morphine

Here I lie in my hospital bed…rattly voice and a little hazy. It’s morning and painful to move..

entering the Mercy

Yesterday morning, after the check in process, my nurse, Daniel measured me up for some latex stockings. Theses are to stop me getting embolisms while I lie around. He attached wrist and ankle bracelets and got me to change into the backless hospital gown.

latex stockings

I was then wheeled off to the lower ground floor where I was given a red hat. After a bit of a wait where people were wheeled in and out the anaesthetist made and entry followed by Jeremy (urologist) who introduced me to his assistant. I was the first up in the afternoon surgery. I reminded Jeremy about taking photos. He had left his camera behind but was confident he could borrow one.

Wheeled in to the operating theatre. From then on I can’t remember much.

waking up to tubes and wires

Susan and Bonnie appeared and someone rang me…I had a wave of nausea as Jeremy arrived on his way out…just a blurr. Jane, the night nurse, woke me on the hour to check blood pressure, drips and the various tubes that drain me and feed me saline, panadol and morphine…

tubed up

There is a bag on one side of the bed below me that receives blood red urine.

blood red urine

and another bag on the right that receives blood red liquid draining from the wound.

drain from wound

These bags are regularly emptied by the nurses. On my left leg is the tube to the catheter just above the latex stocking.

tube to catheter

On my right side is the tube draining the site of the operation. My bladder seems bloated but they assure me I’m draining. It’s a curious (unpleasant) feeling wanting to pee but not being able to.

draining tube and blown up bladder

Not a pretty sight at all. Have to stop now….

About this entry

You’re currently reading “14. Sister morphine,” an entry on Simon’s prostate log

Published:: 12th December 2008

Category:: blood, daily_report

About

Record of events and thoughts relating to being diagnosed with prostate cancer. My brother has been through this before me. His observations have been helping me prepare myself for what might happen. Should anyone else feel less alone, or less frightened by reading these experiences then, that’s good too.

James 12th December 2008

Wow, this has got to be some post-operative blogging first, I mean talk about close in to the action.

Glad to hear that you are doing OK, if feeling a bit weird (I struggle to comprehend catheters) - it all gets better from here on in though (or so I hear), so you get to count up instead of down, or something like that.

Best wishes from all up in Monty!

Tim 12th December 2008

Glad it all went well Just lie back and enjoy the enforced rest- Photos are great- can’t quite work out how you took the one of you looking near death in your bed or did Susan take it or was it an out of body experience!

Lisa Roberts 12th December 2008

Great to hear from you after the operation.

You’re alive!

This is good.

The enforced rest will be an interesting journey. I feel sure you have the resources necessary to make the most of it!

Please give my love to Susan.

Liz Dovey 13th December 2008

Very close to the action - blurry is good with some of these.

You look very dramatic on your operation - or perhaps post-operative?- bed. It looks like a phone camera photo.

Hope the drugs are keeping you comfortable.

Are you finding it as bad as the doctor forecast?

Love to Susan and Bonnie (and you too).

Simon 13th December 2008

Yep - some of these images are not for the squeamish, and they are taken with my phone. It’s a drag that the morphine which I was so looking forward to - made me feel sick. But that’s life…

Simon’s prostate log

14. Sister morphine

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