Daycase Diary (Part One)

Ahh, glad to be back on the blogosphere after resting from my little operation.

My first-ever stint in a UK hospital went very well. I was what they call here a "daycase," meaning an outpatient.

I wish it could be said that I slept fitfully and in utter peace the night before my surgery, but I didn't. I kept disturbing O with all my tossing and turning, and I kept waking up at odd hours during the night, asking myself if it was time to go already. In my mind, I knew I trusted God to take care of me, and in my heart, I felt that He was really with me, but somehow my body wanted to get it all over and done with, and was anticipating the ride to hospital all night long.

The L&D hospital is on the other side of town from our house. We needed to take two buses to get there. O and E went with me, and I was more concerned for their safety and welfare as they waited for me in such an environment (hospital-acquired infection rates are notoriously high here in the UK) than I was about my own procedure.

My fears were unfounded, it turned out. Since my case falls under gynae, I was assigned to a bed (yes, even daycases here are given beds during their stay) in that ward, so the risk of O and E getting infected by the other gynae patients was very minimal. There was even a separate dayroom for patients and visitors, with several comfy couches and chairs, and a TV. I really gave thanks to God in my heart for allaying my concerns about O and E during my hospital stay.
The nursing staff on Ward 34 were very professional and pleasant, they gave me clear instructions and even interacted with E as he roamed the ward. Each bed had access to its own console (TV, phone, radio and internet), which you could pay for using a special prepaid hospital card. You could email and even play games on it! High-tech! The wards here are nothing like wards back home. You've got all the amenities, except for four walls to give you privacy. Of course, there are curtains to shield you all round but it's still different. If someone is thoughtless and inconsiderate enough to choose not to use the headphones to listen to the radio, as someone did during my stay, then the whole bay has to listen to it, as well.

The whole thing might've been enjoyable if not for the mandatory pre-operative fast. No food, no drink, not even a sip of water, hours before the surgery. And it was such a boiling hot day, too, a bad day to be off water, especially for a normally well-hydrated Pinay like me.

Finally, a ward nurse told me it was time to go. Wrapping myself up in my own dressing gown, as the hospital gown kept opening up at the back, I walked down with her, chatting about the current heatwave. As we emerged from the lift, she led me through the corridor into the waiting room outside the OR, which they call here as the Operating Theatre.

More on this tomorrow. I actually finished the whole daycase diary, writing the whole thing for the better part of two hours, but when I clicked on "Publish Post," Blogger asked me to sign in again, and I lost everything that came after this point... Makes me feel like crying, as I'm sure you understand. I mean, how stupid can I be not to save the whole thing on Word first, as I normally do, before I tried to publish it? Anyway, tomorrow I'll give it another go.

Nada Te Turbe

Another day, another chance to entrust myself to the love of God.

O is off work today to bring me to hospital for a minor procedure to remove polyps from my uterus. I will need to be put to sleep during the surgery, according to the GYN whom I only met once when I had my first consultation several months ago. E, who still can't be left in anyone else's care without crying all day, will need to come along with O to hospital. I am actually more concerned about them getting near any hospital viruses during their wait for me there than I am about the actual procedure. I will ask them to wait somewhere else, probably, not inside. I don't want to risk their health for mine. B will be collected from school by a friend, a Pinoy mum from the same parish whose son is in the same year as B.

It's my first time to be admitted to a UK hospital, and though I'm nervous about what lies ahead, precisely because I don't know what lies ahead, I do know that God is with me and my family, and He will be with me as I sleep, and He will be with my family, as well. He will guide the doctors, and He will make sure I won't come to harm. I've gotten many messages of prayer and encouragement (from Pinoys and non-Pinoys alike) via SMS/Chikka/telephone, and I praise God for the support He gives me through people who care.

I am peaceful in my heart, but one can't have too many people praying for oneself. So please do include us in your prayers today, won't you?

Heartbreak in England

Walking to church yesterday evening, we passed houses flying St George's flag. Driveways were packed with cars flying miniatures of the same flag. From inside the houses, we could hear shouts and yells, from men and women alike. It was the World Cup, England vs Portugal, and late into the game, the score was still 0-0.

More than a year after moving here, I still am quite ignorant about the basics of football, except that I know how popular the sport is in Europe. Still haven't caught the football fever myself, though. But it's very interesting to watch how football fans go crazy over it, how people work their schedules around matches, how everyone on the street wears England shirts and how every other home proudly flies the flag. Some homeowners have even gone to extreme lengths, painting their houses' entire facades white with a red cross, and some car owners have done the same, as well. It's amazing how fanatical some people have become over the sport!

An hour later, walking back from church on the same route, the houses were quiet. A few people were walking, shoulders slumped, flags tied around their waist. Eyes looked down, everyone looked dejected. It made me feel like walking up to some of them and offering my condolences. Suddenly our neighbourhood was a ghost town. In other parts of England, drunk fans vented their anger and frustration through crime. We didn't need to look up the news on the BBC sport website to know the outcome.

England had been booted off the World Cup final.

Sympathies to England, mates. Even though your all-out fanaticism still amuses me, I really do feel sorry for you all. Broken dreams and broken hearts, but the boys did do well. If only Beckham hadn't been injured. Now he's even stepped down as Captain... Oh well. Maybe four years from now you'll have better luck.