This morning I had my appointment with the neurologist. Although I had already heard from various doctors and my physio that I was probably going to need surgery, hearing it directly and, if I'm honest, very bluntly from Dr Cabal this morning was still alarming. I've had quite a bit of surgery over the years and gone into them without much anxiety but for some reason this just feels different. Back surgery feels like there's so much more at stake. The doctor laid it out for us: 1, do nothing and its likely to come back; 2, opt for surgery and take a RDV in about a month's time or; 3, address this problem now and have the surgery tomorrow (he had a space in his schedule and my hernia is clearly deemed serious enough). It was quite a lot to take in and Iain and I spent time sitting in the waiting area discussing the options. Ultimately, there was only one choice, and it was to crack on. So we went back to the surgeon's secretary and filled out the necessary paperwork, went to the admissions block to book a room, then went up to the ward to submit the paperwork with the nurses, or so we thought. Clearly, trying to do all of this in French is rather testing and it transpired that they wanted to admit me right there and then. We couldn't explain that this surgery had only been agreed upon an hour earlier so I wasn't ready to come in, as well as the fact we thought my surgery was tomorrow and therefore I'd be coming in tomorrow. But the gaggle of nurses were clear: you are admitted today. We agreed I could return at 17h and that was it. Madness.
We left the hospital in a bit of a daze. I'd just gone in for a consultation and I actually ended negotiating leaving and when I could return! We got our heads back in the game and started to work out a plan of how we (Iain) were going to manage the house and William over the next few days. A quick trip to Auchan for some essentials, plus some good old sushi lunch and back home to pack my bag and let people know what was going on. We picked William up at 4.30 (breaking Garderie protocol as he was there for the first time and we just didn't know the rules) and headed straight to the hospital. And that's me. I'm here now and just in my wee room watching Sky News online (last day of Trump administration / Joe Biden about to take office), catching up on the blog and chatting with people online. The really annoying thing is that the anaesthetist has been in and said my theatre slot isn't until 16h tomorrow so I'm just hanging around waiting for nearly a whole day before my actual operation. I brought my laptop as I thought this might happen so I've got absolutely no excuse not get my retrospective blog posts up to date now (Oct - Dec 2019 is my goal!). At least it will give me something to do to keep my mind off the surgery. I'm quite nervous about this one, but I'm also feeling like a bit of a fraud as, since my course of morphine and cortisone, I'm actually much better and almost pain free. But I think the point is, you can't go through life relying on morphine and cortisone. The actual issue needs fixed, and that's what the surgeon can do.
Here's my room when I arrived tonight. Complete with a beautiful sunset over the Pyrénées!
A room with a view indeed.
Lorna :-)
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