Until 11am yesterday I had a closed intra-articular fracture of the distal radius AND a fracture of the proximal scaphoid. I also had the pics to prove it. Today I've got a really hurty arm with a headless titanium screw in it. The fun began at 7:30am yesterday when I was admitted to the ward for people that can't ride mountain bikes properly.
A room with a view.
I was third on the list so I had a wait before 'Operation Frankenstein-hand' began. I was nil-by-mouth which was the nurses way of telling me to shut up. However, I was allowed to put in a food order for post-op. I asked for sausage, beans, chips, fried bread and a mug-o-tea five sugars when ya ready daaaaarling. Nurse Laura said that they were all out of everything, otherwise that would have been fine. All she had left was toast and some brown stuff that resembled tea or coffee, she wasn't sure. The food though would have to wait until well after I'd been cut-n-shut and even more after all the form filling.
Nurse after nurse, doctor after doctor and even the hand job surgeon wanted to yap about the procedure and more importantly me. They can't have all fancied me....could they? Even the nice lady surgeon freely admitted I had "acute scaphoid". Some of the questions asked were very repetitive and my answers might have gone a tad off topic as my eagerness to crack on with proceedings grew.
"Any allergies?", "hard work"
"When did you eat last?", "are you asking me out?"
"How many units of alcohol do you drink?", "I'm a Lambrini girl, I just wanna have fun"
"Any hearing aids?", "pardon!" (yes, even doctors still fall for this one)
"Any caps?", "yeh they keep my head warm"
"....or crowns?", "you may call me king!"
"Any piercings?", "kinky!"
"Have you got any internal metalwork?", this was my favourite question by a long way and the answer required a thick monotone Austrian accent, "are you Sarah Connor?"
This'll be the arm then!
This seasons must have fashion in short stay surgery is a white patterned strappy backless number with white trim ....
.....and unmatching disposable slippers in a variety of colours from brownish landlord magnolia to landlord magnolia with a hint of brown. Anything else was the models own.
Three and a half hours of nothing but aircon noise and no kids just flew by. It was like heaven and I'd forgotten what it was like to be bored.
Mr.Spock are you listening to me??
.............I'm all ears captain.
Then came time for a quick wee and into pre-op for yet more questions and some proper drugs. I was wired up and joking away with a BPM in the low seventies.
"Those blue caps and green gowns, you can't all think they're fashionable?" I chirped. Knocker-outer lady had heard enough, I didn't even see her stick the sleepy stuff in. Either way, next thing I know it's an hour and twenty minutes later and my wrist is a tad sore despite the fact that I still had a fair bit of paracetamol neurophen, morphine and 'general' still circulating inside me. Nurse Laura made good her promise of toast and hot brown liquid. I even got biccies which are only reserved for really brave soldiers. By the time I'd come round a bit more it was early afternoon and time to go home.
Ooh this stings a bit...even on morphine!
The conveniently named Dr. Late-Twenties-Iranian-Possibly-Turkish-but-Quite-Fit had already prescribed some drugs to take home, which was nice. I added her to the list of admirers. Wifecabs arrived shortly after to take me and my codeine stash home but I'm not done with the NHS just yet..oh no! I'm back in a couple of weeks to the fracture clinic for more endless waiting around with the old, fat and broken. If robo-hand doesn't take then there's talk of bone grafts. How exciting! The cast comes off in six weeks but there's no more biking until FEBRUARY 2013.
To be continued.....but let's hope NOT