Several days earlier:
There's a lot of paperwork to get into hospital. Luckily it's all online. I get an email, follow the link, start ticking boxes.
Most is easy: am I suffering from X? No. Am I taking medication? No. All the standard stuff. Then: Select a time for a pre-admission meeting. Eh? Do I need one? Oh well... Except that there are "No slots available". So I stop.
Another email, Please complete your pre-admission forms. I try... still stopped by, "No slots available". I exchange emails, the advice is friendly but not really helpful. I get -- again -- to, No slots available. Click, I'll set a time later. And -- okay, I'm onto the next step.
The next step is finance. After a few questions: Estimated cost after health fund payments is $250. Plus anything else that may be needed. Oh well. Okay, I say. Pay now, is the instruction. So I do.
And that, is that.
Until two minutes later when an email arrives. Please complete your pre-admission forms. Okaaayy. I think, just a delayed email. If not, I'm sure it will be sorted out on the day.
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The day arrives:
I drive to the hospital. When I get us lost, Deb tells me where to go. (Driving, that is.) We arrive with plenty of time to spare. I check in, Deb drives home. Deb driving in all that traffic is my only worry. Now that it's started, the sharp cut is not a worry.
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If you missed the earlier post: I'm here for a "penile biopsy". Just as bad as it sounds: a small piece of flesh cut out of the end of my penis. The end of my penis is unnaturally red. Chafing but perhaps with infection. Nobody expects cancer but it's possible, so the biopsy is necessary.
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There's a lot of waiting in the hospital. Waiting, hungry and thirsty. And, with a nurse, going through all the info that I entered online.
I relax, doze a bit. Start to type a post for this blog... and I'm interrupted. Time to get ready.
I dress in a hospital gown. At least I try to dress, the nurse has to put it on the right way. I wear pressure stockings. And some stretchy, embarrassingly see-through, hospital underpants.
I'm wheeled -- in my bed -- to the theatre waiting room. More of the same questions (allergies, blood pressure, that sort of thing). Wait a bit longer. The staff are cheerful and chatty, obviously used to patients who need reassuring.
The anaesthetist arrives. He says, I'll tell you what I'm doing. I say, Just tell me that you are doing something, don't tell me what.
He says, I'm doing something. And he does, while I look away. He's inserting a cannula in my arm. Oh, that didn't work, he says. Takes it out and puts it into the back of my hand. Okay? he asks. No worries, I reply, It doesn't hurt (just a pin-prick), I just don't like it.
I'll be asking you to close your eyes and imagine that you are somewhere nice, says the anaesthetist. No, not yet, he says. Oh well, just practising.
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I slide across to another bed, a surgery bed. I'm wheeled into the operating theatre. How do I know it's an operating theatre? There are two giant lights ready to shine down on me. One above my chest ( a spare) and one above my crotch.
The doc arrives. How are the symptoms? she asks. Fading, I reply, hopefully. Feel free to not cut... Let's have a look, she says. She looks. She will cut, she says.
The anaesthetist does his something. Another person puts a mask over my mouth & nose, oxygen. There's a bit of light chit-chat. I'm lying in another room, getting my thoughts in order. Yep, that's it, I don't remember a thing.
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Back to the original room, a room with a bed, a window, a toilet next door. Better yet, a room with lunch.
I'm still working on the lunch when the doc arrives. All went well, she says. I'll let you know on Monday, either the pathology results or that I'm still waiting. Monday is a holiday, I hear it as, "as soon as possible". She continues: If I had to guess (not quite her words) then I would say something infection something.
I always have trouble hearing / remembering the technical words. Deb & our doctor son know this so they like to be with me for appointments. What I believe is, the doc expects to find a treatable infection. I'm happy with that, till I hear otherwise :-)
There's a bit of messing round with padding in my underpants, I may still be oozing. Instructions about peeing gently for a few days, no whacking it round till all is healed. If there's bleeding, squeeze, if it continues, call a doctor. There are stitches -- I'm told, I don't look -- but they will dissolve.
I go to the toilet -- under supervision. I suspect that I won't be let free till I've peed, they don't want a man who can't pee, I'm told.
I'm let loose, Deb picks me up, I'm home again :-)
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At the hospital at 8am. On a bed by 8:20. Operated soon after 10:30. Home by noon. All very quick and easy.
I'm home, feeling good. I've peed, the nurses would be pleased. The penis may still be numb but -- so far, so good.
The only problem today was, this post. I typed some while waiting in the hospital. Typed a bit more -- then lost it all. I have no idea what happened. No worries, here it all is. The cut is done, results are whatever they will be. I'm feeling very relaxed. Glad that it's done.
I suppose that there could still be some pain as I heal. There could be treatment for whatever it is. But for now -- it's a great relief to have finished with the biopsy.
(Yes, I can feel the start of some almost-pain. But, not to worry. The cut has been done. Now I can relax and recover.)
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper
... Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved
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"If you're hoping for the element of surprise, it helps to be surprising." Kim Silva in Head on by John Scalzi
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Dying for you to read my blog, at https: // notdotdeaddotyet .blogspot. com. au/ :-)
