New knee, new me!

So.  It's done!  I have a new knee!!!
On the surface it looks the same as the old one except for the huge zip like scar running down it's centre, but I can assure it is definately a new knee.  Wooohoooo!  It's half the size it was before the op as it had swollen and painful for just so long, its hard to remember a time when it wasn't swollen.

The process of getting to the date of the op and the operating theatre was the most traumatic and stressful part of the whole process.  It was all supposed to happen on Friday 5th April, but three days earlier; a dull but dry Tuesday afternoon I had a phone call from the hospital saying they were very sorry but the op had been cancelled due to there not being an anaesthetist available for that list.
I was obviously upset and got a bit teary on the phone, I'd psyched myself up for this op and had been waiting for months and 3 days before she was telling me not only was it cancelled but they had no new date.  I put the phone down and felt totally lost. Hari was furious and wanted me to scream and shout but what good was that going to do, he told me I shouldn't have cried on the phone so I threw the hospital letter at him and said if he wanted to complain to get it done instead of having a go at me.  Ten minutes later the phone went again, it was the same orthopaedic secretary who now said that the surgeon had agreed to do an extra day and could I make it for the op on Thursday. Could I?!  You bet I could.  So suddenly there was panic, as we had to get to the hospital as soon as possible to have the pre-op tests done.  Action stations commenced, albeit silent action stations as Hari didn't seem to want to talk to me at all. Men. Mehhh.....

At the Elective Treatment Centre we checked in and waited (in silence obviously).  A whole one and a half hours later, a nurse called us through and once we were safely out of earshot of all the people in the waiting room she began apologising profusely for the wait, it seemed that I'd been marked down as having already been seen and gone home!!  It seemed that this whole process was becoming a bit of a farce.  What of the actual operation day?  Was I going to get onto the operation table only to be told that the tea lady hadn't turned in so they were going to have to cancel.  I was seriously getting stressed with it all but trying not to in case my blood pressure readings sky rocketed and that would be another reason not to proceed.  After I assurred her it was fine and could we just get this over and done with, she took blood, weighed me & measured my shortness and we were free to leave.

Operarion New Knee day dawned.
Luckily I had no problems sleeping, as I thought I would, I slept like the proverbial baby and woke with my alarm at 5.30am.  I had some water with my medication but nothing else as instructed, I would have killed for a cuppa tea though.  The taxi arrived to take us to the hospital and at 7am we were sitting again in the waiting area of the Elective Treatment Centre along with quite a lot of other people probably all as anxious as I was.
At just gone 7am, a nurse asked a group of us to follow her and luckily I was one of them.  All the other people called were blokes and they were taken to a separate bay while me and Hari were asked to wait in the first one.  It was like a 4 bed bay but instead of beds there were chairs.  We made ourselves comfortable and here we stayed for a couple of hours watching the coming and goings of this little corner of one of the largest teaching hospitals in the UK.  Nurses, in all different colour combinations of uniforms came and went, cleaners, orderleys, doctors, registrars and most irritatingly were ladies with tea trolleys with all the cups clanging & chiming as they trundled along.


During our wait I was visited first by a softly spoken male registrar who checked through my paperwork with me and drew a very fetching 'this way up' kind of arrow on my right shin, I guess so there was no mistaking which knee was the dodgy one.  Trust me, its difficult to tell with my knees.  A while after him was a lady called Lisa (I remembered her name and job title so many times and then promptly forgotten both) but she was to do with my recuperation and post op recovery.  She was lovely and explained what would happen after the op, how long I'd be in hospital etc and that as I had problems with my heart and kidneys I would be going to recovery ward rather than a standard ward after the op so I constant eye could be kept on me, which reassured me and made me feel safe.

A man who we'd seen pottering about in slacks and a sports jacket and who Hari had dismissed as 'huh, I bet he's a manager' came over to see us. It turned out this was the surgeon who was doing my op, a Mr Hurst (my consultant, Mr Ellis was on annual leave).  Mr Hurst seemed to be around 50-ish (but then I'm bobbins at guessing ages), had glasses and a tash and was nicely smiley and chatty and I warmed to him instantly, which is always a bonus when you know he's going to be delving around inside your leg.
The only thing that had been properly bothering me about this whole procedure was that I would wake up with a fused knee which had been discussed a couple of times as an option but one I really didn't want.  After I confided these worries in Mr Hurst he assured me that a fussed knee wasn't even an option where he was concerned and I was to stop worrying about it.  Which I did.

After him came the anesthetist and I also liked him instantly as he seemed a little errr... eccentric/off the wall/odd, but in a good way (unfortunately I can't remember his name now).  He also went through all my notes and checked details which had been checked a gazillion times already.  However , once I'd told him that I had crap veins and he'd read my kidneys were also on the crap side he insisted that I drank lots of water until midday and that I wrapped up in whatever I could to keep warm and encourage my veins to the surface.  I looked a right lemon sat there with my cardi, coat, scarf and Hari's black 'murderer' gloves on.  Plastic cups of water are very tricky to pick up whilst wearing murderer gloves.

At 11.30 I was told to stop drinking as I would now be going to theatre earlier than planned.  Woohoo!!  Excitement kicked in, very quickly followed by nerves.  Surprisingly the nerves took a back seat to the excitement and Hari seemed quite chilled and laid back too.  I just wanted this thing done.
I put on the fetching theatre gown provided, which gaped at the back in a very un-flattering manner and a porter arrived with a wheelchair for me.
Hari and I said our touching goodbyes which went along the lines of
Hari 'Right, see ya later then.',
Me 'Yeah ok, I'm sure one of the nurses will ring to let you know I'm out of theatre',
Hari 'OK. Love you. Bye then'.
And with that he walked off without so much as a backwards glance and I headed off to theatre.

In the little room which adjoins the operating theatre, the porter and me had a good old natter while I waited.  The theatre was still being used and when they'd finished up it would be my turn.  The anesthetist visited me again and gave me a ticking off because I'd had given Hari his gloves back and he then proceeded to swathe me in blankets and instructed me to keep my hands underneath.  I had no choice, I couldn't bloody move I was so swaddled!
The time came to find a vein - yippee my favourite time. Not. They started tapping both arms furiously in the hope of finding blood but as usual my veins were keeping a low profile and skulking out of sight.  This did however mean that I got to see a new piece of kit.  It was like an ultrasound machine but to find veins and I'd never seen one before.  The anesthetist and a registrar (another friendly, smiley man) discussed veins and arteries, their proximity to each other and which options were best while I looked on at this slightly bizarre moving picture before me of the inside of my own arm.  It was sort of seascape-esq, a black & white image and was utterly fascinating, I imagined to see a little boat bobbing about on one of the 'waves'.
They both concluded that nothing looked promising so after more tapping and a couple of attempts with a small needle I started to get a bit anxious and they decided to give up. Was this the point at which they were going to say lets just not bother eh?  I felt a bit of panic starting to rise...

But then, a spot of brilliance was mooted!  They were going to 'breathe me to sleep'.  I didn't instantly know what that meant but it didn't sound like it involved needles so I was all for it.  I was talked through the process and a mask was put over my mouth.  I was told to take long deep breaths, that it would take about 4 minutes and not to panic.  I held the registrars hand, he smiled at me and gave me a nod of encouragement, I took one deep breathe and ......