The surgery all went well, post op blood pressure and oxygen levels all hunky dory, so much so that they decided I no longer needed my blood pressure medication which is good.
Dr G came to visit me and seemed happy. "Can you feel your feet? Can you move your toes?" Mm, where have I heard that before? Yes as it happens I can but I have a strange sensation on my left thigh. Odd. More on that later. He came and went.
My voisine enjoyed her supper and I lay there. I didn't feel like eating anything in fact. Just as well as the hospital food was, in a word, DISGUSTING!
I felt a bit drowsy and dosed off. Various nurses came to visit during the night and the dratted blood pressure monitor woke me up just as I dropped off. During the night the pain started to increase. A LOT. I called the nurses and they rigged up a drip above the bed but it seemed to make little impact. I pressed my button and tried to not think about it but by the time morning came I was in agony. Nurses had been in and out checking various drips but they had not checked the epidural pump which was hidden from sight under the sheets by my side. The drug had run out and I had in fact not been getting any pain relief at all.
The epidural pump gizmo it seems was a brand new peice of kit that no-one seemed to know anything about. In fact it was supposed to simplify the nursing staffs lives and give the patient some control. Oh dear NOOOOOO! I have never ever felt so much pain before in my life. At that point if someone had turned up with a gun I would have begged them to put me put me put of my misery. The whole idea was that the pain would be controlled but by God someone slipped up very badly and I was left suffering. No wonder I felt so bloody depressed. At that point I wondered why the hell I had bothered with the surgery. I was better off and in less pain before!
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