Monday found us once more on the motorway down to Manchester.
That afternoon was pre-op day. All seemed to go well. My cold was too minor to
have an adverse effect on the op. My blood pressure & heart seemed to be
behaving well. I was advised to drink no
alcohol on Monday, to eat & drink normally until midnight, after that no
eating just water until 6am. I could take some medication only in the morning.
I was to report at the hospital on Tuesday at 8.30am for a marker to be put on
then proceed to the ward for the op.
Monday night we slept poorly, both being rather anxious about
the next day’s proceedings, I was up bright & early, just after 6am,
gasping for a drink of water but it was too late even then. We set off early,
allowing for rush hour traffic. (There seemed remarkably little of it.) We
reached the hospital shortly after 8am to be told that radiography (who were
doing the marking) weren’t expecting me. I told them I was supposed to be being
operated on that day but the marking had to be done first. They told me to
wait,
We waited. And waited. Eventually I was called through &
told to get undressed ready for the pre-marking ultrasound. The nurse left. She
soon returned to tell me to get dressed again as the doctor wanted to talk to
me first.
Mr Murphy, the surgeon then arrived. The op was off. And admin
error. With the coronavirus panic, the hospital had cancelled all routine
operations. Only urgent ones were being done – that’s my category. They were
then bringing urgent ones forward as much as possible, hence the fact that my
operation had been brought forward. However, admin had not allowed for the fact
that the op would take 2-3 hours & Mr Murphy only had the theatre for the
morning on Tuesdays. As it was already turned 9am & I hadn’t seen the anaesthetist
yet, there just wasn’t the time to do the op that morning. I will have to come
back later in the week. He was terribly apologetic but there was nothing else
he could do.
Fortunately the hotel we were booked in at allowed us to cancel
our Tuesday night booking at no charge. We booked another couple of nights for
the new operation date. I will have to be at the ward by 7.30am, so we’ll go
down the day before, &, although I hope to leave the hospital the same day
I do not expect I will feel like the long drive back the same day. If nothing
else I would be reassured if anything went amiss in the night that the hospital
where the operation was done was near at hand. Having sorted out the hotel we
packed our bags & came home again.
By yesterday evening the Fox was worried. He was beginning to feel
feverish, fluey. Don’t tell me he’s now caught the coronavirus! I’m trying to
convince us he’s just overtired. I’m letting him sleep as long as he can in the
hope he will wake up bright and well.
Fortunately last night, an old childhood friend, who we’d met up
with for dinner on Monday night, rang. He’s volunteered if necessary to come
& take me to Manchester & bring me home again afterwards. It seems to us
to be an imposition. He’s in his 70s & not in the best of health – another one
of us in the vulnerable group as far as this coronavirus is concerned. But it
may be the only solution. We’ll just have to see how it goes.
I’m beginning to think this operation is jinxed. First I wasn’t
offered it locally. Now, after a fight, I’ve got the offer, but this is the
second wasted trip. If the Fox has got the coronavirus, will I get it too? Will
the op have to be put off yet again due to my ill-health? I could have done
without all this extra anxiety.
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