25 November after 4 pm  and onwards

Anesthetists were fab. First a young guy – registrar? He had one of those hats with his name on it – Logan. Got the IV line in my arm with ease. He said they would give me more sedative this time for the wake intubation through the nose.

Later his colleague, a consultant, called in too. He also explained and reassured me. Earlier at Greenlane at pre-op the anesthetist said that you have to be awake so the tissues are not slack and if the tube goes awry they have to do an emergency tracheotomy. These things are not good at the best of times but when they are unplanned they are problematic.

This older consultant said the awake intubation through the nose was a useful tool in many emergencies and said it usually goes well but some patients have problems with it. Lovely man but I wonder how someone doing the procedure can know what it feels like. The old dichotomy between the experience of the practitioner and the patient. Most people expect to be unconscious when they go into surgery and are ventilated.

Prostho pushed through the curtain enthusiastically.  “So this is nearly the end!” He showed me the prosthetic which was a plate with very small teeth on it. He would adjust it at my appointment after the surgery. (I hope!)

Goodbye to Peter, the parting of the ways, and into theatre and a cheerful atmosphere with 5 people in the anaesthetic team.

I actually saw and commented on the ventilator that was a feature of the main Covid crisis. The consultant said there was a shortage of people to operate them during Covid which was one of the (I think) worldwide problems.

They sedated me but very mildly. I wasn’t aware of it. And then there was some sort of process with spray up my nose and down my throat. I had to breathe it in. After some time they got out the hosepipe: “Here it comes.” They pushed it up my nose and even down the bend and I was muttering that it felt okay. No pinching! 

Then I went out – the amnesiac med must have worked because I can’t remember anything. Nor can I remember Nick and Simon talking to me about the op. I know they did and it was only this am that I heard about it from the young dr on the rounds who was so enthusiastic about me learning how to feed and look after myself at home so I would not need to stay in hospital much longer. My mouth was too dry to ask any further. (I’m not a quick thinker anyway.) The op went well they said. Didn’t rave about it. 

I remembered how good I felt in post op. It’s usually a euphoric time for me.  I took a selfie and my mouth looked straightened up. 

It was getting dark when I got to the ward and after I told Peter to go, I found the dry mouth and eyes awful. And reality kicked in. I got the bad news that the NG tube needed to be x-rayed and that might not happen till morning so no feed and no sleeping meds. I am a real addict – don’t be like me – so I knew I wouldn’t sleep. I  took it quite well because I had an overall feeling of well being. Pain was not bad at all but my rogue maxillary incisor started to hurt because it finally had a tooth under it – pressing on it. Very small bikkies. 

After lots of self congratulatory selfies, the swelling started up properly the next morning and I didn’t look quite so good! I’m wearing a bandage which consists of a big pad of material in a mesh sock tied up on the top of my head. I hope the mesh stimulates the flow of fluid as we learnt in our Zoom talk with Shannon last week.But it’s ordinary oedema not lymphedema. They want my chin up and no fluid under the graft.

I got through the night quite well. After the shock memory test at pre-op I was worried about my brain cells and did some memory tests of my own. I went through my usual alphabetical lists of kiwi icons which is quite hard to remember and I did it better than for ages. I counted backwards from 100 in 7s and did the nine times table. A woman at my book group told me that all the answers add up to 9 and they do like 54, 63, 81. A little mind game to help me get through the night.

Down to x-ray at midnight for NG check. When I gave the orderly the thumbs up, he gave me the East Coast wave – the raised eyebrows and tilt of head. And he was an Indian chap! Love that part of our Kiwi culture. 

AND I listened to all the songs on our Music Tuesday again. I listened to several versions of Hallelujah and decided that the man himself was best at singing it because of the personal meaning he could put in the words. 

And as in every case (there have been few in the last 8 years) when I’ve gone to bed without Zopiclone, I dropped off eventually but not until dawn. This morning it was at about 7 am and left me a very small window before the room woke up. 

My worst discomforts are my sore eyes (you have to sleep to rest them) and a TERRIBLE dry mouth which nothing can relieve (I can only use swabs) and they don’t seem worried about it. I’ll find out the cause later.

The dietitian is so busy that he can’t come today but the nurse has started me on feed at 12.00pm. First food for a couple of days. Scared of nausea we went slowly but it felt so good. 

I’m going to finish this diary now. It has really helped me cope and now this part of the adventure is over. The dietitian did come. He soon realised I was a champ at using the NG tube and was in no hurry to use this opportunity to lose weight. I wanted the nutrition. I could go home when it was medically deemed okay. Tomorrow maybe he said unless they want to keep you for Monday.

I felt better this morning as I had a sleeping tab. Caught a little sleep. No x-ray in the middle of the night either.

Today’s efficient young doctor was keen for me to go home. My meds have been a bit mixed up and I’ll be able to better manage them at home – long story. 

So sometime this afternoon I’ll be on my way, after the usual lengthy discharge delay and will be able to catch up on my rest and get myself back to me again.