High and Dry

Surgery day.  

I've been listening to a meditation/hypnosis cd I bought the other day to try to prepare myself as I am a woos (spelling?) about all this.  Each of the meditations are 32 minutes long but I don't think I've heard more than about 6 minutes before nodding off.  I do know that part of it involves going down a staircase one step at a time.  I don't think I've made it to the bottom step so far.  

We had to be at the hospital at 8am for a visit to the radiologist.  She fired a wire into me, drew on me and sent me off to the surgical ward.  I had a little bit of hanging around, met a few people, answered the same questions several times, and then sat around a little more before Charlie, the porter, came to take me to the theatre.  'Can I see 42nd Street, please?'.   

Gary had been waiting at the surgical ward since 17.00, but I didn't get there until around 18.30.  Visiting ended at 19.00 so we didn't have long but I was so groggy that I couldn't really speak to him.   

I had a few hours sleep, on and off, listened to my meditation thing a few times and pondered how well I felt.  In the words of a Wise one who walked this road just a few weeks ago 'morphine is my friend'.

The nurses come to check on us regularly, blood pressure, temperature etc.  One told me my SATs were low and I said 'you should have seen my GCSEs'.  Well, I thought it was funny, must be the drugs.