14. The Huge Tonsil Heist

As we drove over to Peterborough that afternoon I felt like everything was happening to someone else. And when we arrived in the car park and I realised this was actually it, in less than a couple of hours I'd be put to sleep, and basically anything could happen, and half of my throat was going to get scooped out and sent off in plastic bags to be sliced up and search for the cause of all this, it felt even more surreal. The staff there are always totally delightful. I have to say it can't just be the money is better, its just a totally different type of person. Everyone there are how you all would like every nurse to be, where ever you met them, kind, caring, driven by the inner need to help people.

So I was shown to my room, which had a lovely patio window and view onto a little garden area, was told to pick my meals for the next 24 hours off of their 3 a la carte menu's, although I totally doubted I would be able to eat anything, they still insisted I chose something. And I got my bag unpacked and me prepped for surgery. Paul hung around until the nurse came for me to walk me up to theatre, and arm in arm we wandered along the corridor giggling about wearing the tea bag knickers, green compression socks and having your arse hanging out the back of your surgery gown.

I remember waking up in recovery. A nurses face was peering down at me, and I remember her telling me I had to wake up because it had been over 2 hours. I can remember saying my chest hurt, and it did, like something heavy was sat on my chest stopping me breathing properly. I slipped away again into the blackness. Later I think it was 4 hours after surgery, I sort of remember being wheeled through the corridors and trying to scramble from the trolly back onto my bed then every got lost again.

Over the next few hours basically until about 4am there were brief moments of lucidity, a male nurse came in and I asked if he could open the door as I was so hot, and then later a woman came and said Paul was trying to phone me, did I have my phone to message him and she got it out my bag and left it within reach.

It was dark the next time I woke and I remember thinking the patio door was open and anyone could walk into the room, and I wouldn't be able to do anything. The next time I woke it was shut, and I don't even know who came in and shut it. About 2am a nurse came and helped me get into my proper pyjamas and helped me sit on a commode to have a wee. and it wasn't until a young nurse who I think was about 6 months pregnant was standing over me asking if she could take my blood pressure at about 4am I finally felt like I was returning from the depths of anaesthesia She got me a drink and some ice cream which I have to say was wonderful. I ate half a scoop and promptly fell back to sleep.

In the morning I felt ok, my throat was sore and felt very strange, but I managed some scrambled egg, a bit of yoghurt and was happy that I would be able to leave. Suddenly like magic Mr Amen appeared standing at the end of the bed, and asked how I was feeling, I confirmed I was ok, nothing too painful, and he told me everything had gone to plan, he couldn't see any visible tumour which could be good or bad news in the fact if it wasn't there at all, bad news, but if it was, it meant it was encased in tissue and he had managed to cut round it with good margins. so fingers crossed. The nurse came and took all the tubes and cannulas out of me, issued me with my going home pack and various pain killers and my bag was packed up ready for when Paul arrived and we drove home.

Totally relieved it was finally done. Now 3 weeks until we found out if it was worth while, and 4 weeks of recovery and soup ahead of me. Well that's what I thought anyway .

Oh how wrong could I be.