Inchcock’s True Tales of Woe
Inchy’s Angiagram Hospital Procedure
I was greeted with a curt superior nod of the head by the receptionist and my paperwork demanded – which of course I gave her.
I was given the short order of “Sit their”, as she pointed to a chair in the waiting area, “as the bed was not yet free.”
I humbly sat on the chair with my bag of accoutrements and bedclothing by my side, and took out Spike Milligan’s ‘Rommel Who?’ book to read.
She came over a few moments later, trod on my toe without any comment, and sat next to me to confirm my details, then returned to scold someone else at her outside of the ward ward reception desk.
An hour or so later, she called out my name, and instructed me to go with the nurse, into the ward.
I managed to resist giving her a Heil Hilter salute.
As the nurse led me through the coded lock doors, I realised I’d left my bag outside, and I returned to collect my bag, and got a lecture about security and bombs from the Obergruppenfurher on reception, then I returned sheepishly to the nurse in the ward.
She led me to a bed, tagged my wrist, and told me to get my jammies on, then scrub my hands, chest and groin with some gel she gave me to use.
I actually heard her giggle as I removed my underpants. (I’ve got used to this now, after a few visits to the hospital, and the usual flow of nurses to have a look, and smile sympathetically at me, or run out laughing. It’s true)
A Doctor came in after I’d been antisepticated, and went over the procedure I was about to have. I could have anaesthetic if I requested it, but they prefer to use a sedative, so they can ask me to move if required. A sedative was agreed on and given.
An earlier procedure had been cancelled and I was to go into the theatre in an hour. During that hour, I was informed by a male nurse that a patient had died, and I was taking his place for the same operation.
That perked me up no end! If they’re losing patients at the pre-heart op preparation stage… what chance would I stand with the actual Aorta valve replacement operation?
I was collected, and taken into the theatre, and they were very precise in getting me into an exact position on the table.
As they were injecting me in the groin – this pair of well developed breasts with a nurses head over them leant over me and asked if I’d like a pain-killer injection. I answered ‘Yes please’ to both of them.
Just as I realised seeing the breasts were having an effect on my lesser endowed lower region where the tube was being inserted…
I drifted off into a semi-conscious state, I could see the smiles and looks of sympathy develop on their faces.
I seem to remember them returning me to the ward bed, where a Doctor attended and told me that everything looked good for the big operation and I would be notified shortly of the date.
Then the good bit came, they informed us that the breakfast was now being served at the other end of the ward, and I felt ready for some.
As I got out of the bed, I realised that my ‘Little Inch’ appendage was stiffer that it had ever been (not bigger, just harder), and it stayed that way for hours and hours. I asked a nurse, jokingly of course, if I could have another stab of the sedative!
She looked me up and down, smiled and asked Why?
The next morning I was signed out, and released at 0500hrs ’cause they needed the bed urgently.
They called brother-in-law Pete and he agreed to pick me up.
I was handed a very handy descriptive and helpful leaflet about ‘What happens in a Angiogram’ – obviously far too late to be of any use, but interesting like. Tut!
As I passed the reception outside the ward, I went to the Obergruppenfurher, and with all my sarcastic efforts, smiled sweetly at her and said: “Thank you very much for all your help and understanding!”
The ‘Humph’ I got back made me smile, it would have done Hattie Jacques proud in Carry on Doctor!
More to follow… TTFN