And might I just say, owwwwwwwwwwwww. Holy Goodness I am sore.
In the end I chose not to go for the hysterectomy. The operation went reasonably well, they chopped me up a bit more than they had anticipated (so could not do the mirena insertion) and they did find something which was not a fibroid – bits of which have been sent off for testing. They also had to throw everything in their pain relief arsenal at me in recovery because they couldn’t stabilise me (my pain apparently laughs at morphia!).
And so much for the planned overnight stay, my haemoglobin levels (and blood pressure and pulse) were dangerously low and I needed a blood transfusion – in addition to the transfusion I needed in surgery (a hearty thanks to all of those A+ blood donors out there!!), so had to stay two nights – the staff were eyeing me for another night (haemoglobin still very low), but Serge recommended that I go home.
I’m very glad I went for St Luke’s, rather than RPA where I would not have been guaranteed a private room – despite the same out of pocket cost. Am certain I would have been a total basket-case having to share. And while Serge’s fees would send one to the poor-haus, I was terribly well looked after – he was in regular contact with me and the hospital at all sorts of ungodly hours.
I’m still not quite sure under what circumstances I’d want wine with my hospital dinner.
Sadly, the weather has not been anywhere near good enough to laze about on the outside couch so I’ve been ensconced on the inside couch, gazing upon the rather nice floral display on the desk, in a fair bit of pain, but fortunately with Don around to do my bidding.
Pretty tulips from SaltMinesLimited
I’d finished all of my library books by yesterday afternoon (oops), so will have to move on to Murder, She Wrote Season 5. And, delightfully, the lovely Joan presented me with Season 6 – along with some other wonderful goodies – so I should be set for a good while.