Friday, September 10, 2010

Of Fight or Flight

There is a clarity that can only be gained from the flight or fight response, that ancient caveman reaction to stress that sets the body up to either fight to the death or run away from danger.

The adrenaline rush of stress is something modern man doesn't appreicate unless they take up some extreme sport. Or it has become such a regular part of life that you can't do much about, the stressed out feeling making many ill.

Over the last three days I've noticed that colours have been sharper, smells more intense, time more rushed. All of this is a response to the fact that I was having surgery.

I'm glad I only had three days to  ponder this fact.

The stress factor had kicked in.

I'm happy to say that all has gone very well over the last twenty four hours. After walking myself to the hospital in the morning (as the Freemason's Hospital is only a mile down the road) my head was in a reasonable state. After a quick, thorough pre-operative regime and chats to the doctors, I was left to ponder my fate under a warming blanket, a contraption not unlike my mothers hairdryer that she had when I was a kid. They put me under around nine 'o'clock. The next thing I know, it's 11.30, I've got a drip in my left hand, an oxygen mask on my face which I want off and absolutely no pain. Gotta love morphine. I didn't know that morphine makes your nose itch. The oxygen mask was annoying and I was groggy. The doctor popped her head around the curtain. it appears that a large cyst had managed to wrap itself around my fallopian tube. She'd managed to extract the cyst and save the tube. In my groggy state I was thrilled. In my now more alert state, I'm ecstatic.

Around one they started to make moves to rouse me, sitting me up slowly much to my disapproval. The nausea was coming in waves. I was asked if I suffered from motion sickness. Yep, I sure do. Joy. I was told I'd be in for a fun ride.

Finally, after a couple of rounds of puking, things settled down, my colour went from green to normal and I was up and dressed and released to my friend Kara's care for a slow trip home in a cab.

A day on and I'm not feeling too bad at all. Yes, my tummy is distended and somewhat lopsided. They warned me that it could happen, along with a sore shoulder and diaphragm, tiredness, a bit of nausea and sore wound sites. Yep, I have all that, bit it's far less intense than I was expecting. There is a certain amount of pain, but the extra strength painkillers are keeping that at bay. I'm not eating much but taking in lots of fluids. After a full day in bed, after visits from the Grounded Dutchman, Blarney, Gloria and Bernie, I sit here at my computer, spending my upright half hour before going back to bed.

Friends also bring food. Kara's left some green soup, Blarney brought eggs and Bern, bless her, some of my favorite Ben and Jerry's ice cream. I had a small scoop with dinner tonight. This all goes with the the litres of flat lemonade that I'm drinking, that age old cure all (Although you can't get Woodroofe's Lemonade here - that can cure the bubonic plague and the ebola virus mixed together). Alice is dropping in tomorrow with food too.

My friends are bloody marvellous. They're being amazing at this time. Mind you, I'd do exactly the same for them.

Now I just have to rest, recouperate and try to enjoy this relaxing time. No lifting or running or jumping around for a bit. But I'm on the mend.

Right, back to bed.

I sort of miss the sharp colours and the clarity of hearing. Then again, I don't want another fallopian cyst.

Might have to take up skydiving when I get better.



River said...

Well, hooray you didn't have to lose the fallopian tube!

Kath Lockett said...

Yay for you - better recovery than you were dreading, a saved 'tube', great friends around to help and icecream. Icecream is more than just cold stuff, isn't it?

Oh and Woodies lemonade - I'd drink a flat glass or two of that when I was sick, lying on the lounge in front of Humphrey B Bear - memories!