On Day Minus One the ‘blood supply stopping’ research team phoned us at a ridiculous hour to inform us that a room had been found so that we could take part in the research without affecting other patients with Blokey’s non-existent MRSA. We sleepily made our way to the hospital and enjoyed tea and flapjack whilst the nurses took our blood and cuffed us. They tried to make random small-talk with us, but I’m not a small-talk person and besides, the silly nurse was unable to take my blood and she had to beg the Vampire King to take it from me.
I love the Vampire King.
We returned home afterwards. The bags were packed, the tellybox shows were set to record, the house was amazingly clean … we just had to patiently wait for Mumsy to come along and drive us back to the hospital, which she did in time for a three o’clock admittance.
Blokey had his own room on the transplant ward, despite the negative result from his MRSA swabbage. I didn’t yet have a room because they’d had an influx of transplants to perform that day. His surgeon popped along to see him. He was a friendly chap whom we hadn’t met before and he put us at ease.
When Blokey toddled off for his final haemoD session I still hadn’t been admitted. Mumsy and I went to the concourse to enjoy scones, tea and mandarin jelly and I very nearly burst into the tears. It was a very surreal experience and one which is STILL very surreal, to the extent that I’m expecting to wake up at any moment.
Blokey’s surgeon came back to see me in his room later on. He drew a BIG arrow on my left side and a straight line from my belly button down to my knickers. This was when I discovered that I’d be lying on my side during the surgery. Oddly, it wasn’t something I’d even considered until then. My own assistant surgeon managed to pop along eventually, which was nice.
Mumsy left me for a long drive home. Blokey returned from haemoD. FINALLY! A BED! They’d managed to find me a bed on the ward, and it was a room all of my very own. This sounds like it should have been fabulous, and it was, but it was a HDU bed/room and so was large and cold and devoid of niceness. But at least I had my own loo. And a tellybox! For free! This proved to be useful in the morning when I was able to watch Coronation Street in an effort to clear my mind of heavy stuf
ENEMA! Ha ha! I have no idea what I was worried about. It was the easiest and silliest thing in the world, and so trivial in the grand scheme of events. I’m tempted to admit that I’d quite like another one.
Of course, there was the issue of the toilet being completely lacking in toilet paper. Feel free to imagine me running around the ward in my nightie looking for a nurse (or anyone) to beg for toilet paper, whilst clutching my buttocks together to ensure that nothing escaped! Please ignore the redness of my face when the nurse laughs and asks why I just didn’t press the buzzer!
It was a long night, a very cold night and the first night in a very long time where I hadn’t been able to sleep easily. But I still felt remarkably calm …
Oh, I started my period on Day Minus One. Perfect timing, no?