I'm Still Awake!!!

Why hospitals ask people to come at one time and then make them sit and wait
for hours on end, I still cannot work out. The day arrived and my appointment for the op was at 9.30. We arrived at the day clinic set aside for operations that allow the patient to go home the same day and were amazed at the amount of people that were sitting there. The office was situated just next to the eye clinic and we quickly came to realize that most of the occupants were there for
that particular surgery.

After having my blood pressure checked, changing into the compulsory gown and answering the necessary questionnaire, we (my daughter and I) settled down to wait and wait we did. The hours passed because we were so busy talking, but the wait was long and worrisome, as the more that time went by, the more jittery I got. Finally my name was called, the time 14.30. No wheelchair necessary, we made our way down in the elevator to the operating
rooms area, where again we were greeted my some now familiar faces from the
upstairs clinic, who too were awaiting their turn.

Now is when things got a little hair raising. My surgeon, was nowhere in sight,
but we sat down ready to have another prolonged wait. There was a lady nervously waiting and we exchanged pleasantries. She told us that she was
waiting for her husband, who was undergoing similar surgery to my own and she was a little put out that his own surgeon had not put in a show, but he
was being operated on by another. We assured her that the gentleman in question who was doing the operation was in fact the head of the department itself and that he was in safe hands. She proceeded to go on to explain her
nervous disposition, that was due to the fact that they had persuaded her spouse
to undergo the surgery under a Local Anaesthetic as apposed to General
Anaesthesia; the difference being that for one you are awake and aware, whereas
for the other fully asleep.

She in fact felt that he had been encourage to choose the first, due to the fact that the hour was late and if he would have the latter, the day clinic was now
closed and after the first recovery room, there would be no place for him to rest till he was able to go home. Commiserating with her and with assurances that
he was in safe hands, we awaited my turn.

After a while, the Head of the Department came in to see us and after asking all the necessary questions, too requested that I do the op under a Local. I immediately refused, saying that from past experience I was unable to and wished to have the Full Anesthetic. I also pointed out that my own surgeon had
promised to do the operation and that I preferred to wait for him to be present
before they began. Left again to our own thoughts, we discussed a little the strange situation and came to the same conclusion, that the lateness of the hour
had caused this strange request.

A nurse came in next and asked me why I had not signed the forms accepting
a Full Anesthetic and we explained that I had not been asked. From this moment on, my heart was pounding. I climbed on to the required bed and was
wheeled towards the operating theatre as the nurse pressed another piece of
paper into my hands explaining the down sides of the anesthetic! In the annexe to the theatre, the anesthesiologist again tried to persuade me to use a Local!
By this time I was a bag of nerves. After some discussion, we agreed that he would put me under and finally my own surgeon appeared!

But the fun had still only just begun. Wheeled into the theatre, I was transferred on to the narrow hard bed, where I was immediately strapped in. On my left my arm was pulled out to put the drip and on the right one of the male nurses was pulling at my leg, washing it down with alcohol and tying it up into a side ways position of immobility.

But I was still awake!! Beginning to feel forced to do something against my will,
I traumatically cried out in a croaky voice 'I'm still awake!!'

'Okay' said the surgeon, 'we won't begin till you are under'. After two or three
unsuccessful tries at finding my veins, the anesthesiologist obviously managed to put me to sleep and I woke up to find myself in the recovery room, where I
quickly told my daughter about what had happened. After a while the anesthesiologist came by to see me, squeezing my arm as a reassuring sign, just
confirming for me that if I had not cried out, I would not have received what I
requested!!

So, due to the lateness of the hour, I was checked in to a hospital bed for an over
night stay, at the surgeons expense, for if he was unsuccessful in releasing me on
time, it would be forfeited from his own pocket. Poetic justice I felt, after the
traumatic experience I had been laid out to!