About the NHS, I was recently admitted to Blackburn for what was detailed as a “normal routine operation”.
Obviously, from the details, it was going to be a painful and sensitive experience. I was offered either a general or local anaesthetic. I opted for the general, but was warned against because of a seemingly previous cardiac condition.
I was informed a local anaesthetic would “numb me from the waist downwards”. Not only was I numbed from the waist downwards, I complained afterwards, but the whole brain was numbed. But as a senior nurse consoled... considering the sensitive nature of the operation, it was better that than no anaesthetic at all!
I recall sinking into the induced coma of the anaesthetic, the merry chatter of the surgeon and the nursing attendants around me. Well, if it was for them just a joke, it couldn’t be that serious!
In my coma I became aware of an induced delirium, of a nightmare that resulted in violent convulsions. I was conscious of a distant reassuring voice repeating “I think he’ll pull through”. I was sure I would – confident in the merry carers around me.
And afterwards the precautionary Intensive Care Department, where I was surrounded again by convivial humour and an abundance of the proverbial “TLC”. I recall asking of anyone tending to me: “Can I apply for permanent accommodation?”. But I was transferred to a recuperation ward, where I was equally well cared for. And eventually I was expected to leave. All good things come to an end.
St Chad’s Avenue, Chatburn.