On waiting for surgery at the end of the year…

If anyone asks for a wise word at the start of a year, here is one you might like to pass along. If you’re going to get sick, don’t do it between Christmas and New Year. I’ve made the mistake of doing so, and oh my, it has been frustrating. In my last blog I indicated that I was hurriedly finishing off the post before having surgery for a hernia repair, and here I am 3 and a half days later, still waiting, though ready to be wheeled through for surgery should an opening come up.

Let me fill you in a little more.

On Boxing Day I woke to notice a significant swelling that even I could deduce was a hernia. While painful, it didn’t feel desperate, so I waited for our GP to open the next day and went in. After a brief examination, the doctor looked at me as though I had been recklessly irresponsible for having waited so long, and told me to get to the emergency room of the local hospital immediately. “Don’t drive yourself,” he said, “and take a bag – they’ll do surgery and you will be in overnight.”

I dutifully obeyed orders, and within 45 minutes Rosemary and I were at emergency.

While I don’t like to be critical of our public hospitals, the experience was seriously underwhelming. We were met at the door by a volunteer who asked my name, and then wrote it down inaccurately. I didn’t have the energy to protest (Brain/ Brian, it’s all the same!) He told me to wait on a red chair – the chair people who need to see a doctor must sit on. There was no inquiry about how ill I was, or if I thought I might be dead in a few minutes, or anything else. Just wait on a red chair until a triage nurse could see me. That happened an hour and a half later. If I had been having a heart attack or a stroke I would have been long dead. Other than jumping up and down and screaming for attention, no one was going to give me any. One person did pass out while we were there, though it turned out she hadn’t come as a patient, but as the support person for someone who was!

When I saw her, the triage nurse asked some essentially superficial questions, and then sent me to an admin clerk. Questions revolved around my private health cover as much as anything. After that there was a further 3 and a half hours wait during which time my temperature and blood pressure was taken. My blood pressure was way, way up, but didn’t seem a cause for concern, nor was I asked what it usually is. 5 hours after arriving at emergency, I got seen by a doctor. And from that point on my criticism of the system ends, because once I actually saw the doctor, I started to be treated really well.

Second bit of advice then… if you have a condition that you could die from, try to make sure it spreads out over at least 5 hours, because going to emergency doesn’t see you getting help before then.

Once seen by the doctor (actually numerous doctors over several hours) and being whisked through a CT Scan, they concluded that surgery could wait until tomorrow, and told me I could eat until midnight (it was then 11pm) but nothing after then. The vending machine (the only food option available at that hour) offered some nice looking sandwiches, but unfortunately didn’t work. I did manage to get it to dispense some nuts and strawberry milk. I slurped the last drop down just before midnight. By 2 am I was admitted to my ward. 3 hours and 40 minutes of sleep followed – when I was woken, observations were taken and I was told to shower and get ready for surgery. They provided some pretty serious anti bacterial soap to use and insisted I use it everywhere. I dutifully obeyed, but my goodness, it does dry your skin out!

After that, various doctors and specialists came by. They explained about the hernia, said the problem is that it is incarcerated and wished me well. Then the first ominous warning. “We’ve classified your surgery as urgent. But you need to understand, urgent is not the same status as an emergency. And this is between Christmas and New Year – we are very short staffed. Every life threatening emergency gets in ahead of you. I am sure you understand why.” Yes, of course I do, and I am glad I am not an emergency. Apparently it could have been, depending on what was trapped in the hernia, but I gather it is none of the really serious stuff. So here I am, 3 days later, showered yet again with that dreadful but really necessary soap, on my third day of fasting, and hoping that today will be the day.

Actually, I am a little more hopeful for today, because yesterday I was shifted to a private hospital, being assured that urgent surgery is more likely to take place in the private system than in the public hospital – certainly if its between Christmas and New Year. Since being first admitted I have been poked and prodded by numerous specialists (painful, every time), have been in four different wards spread between 2 hospitals (and am about to change rooms for a 5th time), been attended to by at least a dozen nurses and multiple junior doctors, and as far as the hernia goes, am still in the same position I was in when I presented to my GP and was told to go immediately to emergency (“and don’t drive yourself!”)

But that could all end in a few hours if I do get to surgery tonight. But my private specialist has warned me that though my chances are greatly improved by now being at a private hospital, I shouldn’t bank on it happening. But he did say I could eat until noon today, so that is a major consolation. It’s now 2pm, so fasting has commenced. Technically I’m booked in for 6pm, but am told 8pm is more likely. And we shall see what happens.

My takeaways… well beyond my tongue in cheek comments, here are a few more serious ones.

1. I have private health insurance. Spare a thought for those who don’t… those who have to wait until the urgent morphs into an emergency, often with life long (or death long) consequences. We all need to work towards a more just world.
2. I have genuinely tried to tap into mindfully noting the moment, and spotting God in it. In other words, even though this isn’t the way I’d planned to spend my days off between Christmas and New Year, I know that God never takes a break, and that it’s up to me to spot the God moments. And they have been there. I have been mindful that the love of my life, Rosemary, has been with me all this time, sitting on seriously uncomfortable hospital chairs, doing her best to be supportive. She has been at the hospital from early morning until evening. My note to self – she is really extraordinary. If the roles were reversed, I would struggle to match her commitment. Thank you Lord for Rosemary, and for this little reminder of how astonishing she is. There have been other moments as well. Not being able to get to a church service on Sunday, I listened to some worship music. There was a period of about 10 minutes when I felt as though I was in God’s own presence. Truly wonderful, awesome, sobering. If only for those two experience, it has all been worth it.
3. Though much has been frustrating, I have met some astonishing people. The system might be wanting, but the people working in it aren’t. I am grateful for them.
4. Once told surgery is not happening on a particular day (I usually get the news around 4 pm), Rosemary and I have taken a slow walk outside. There is a long term rehabilitation ward within the precinct. I’ve observed several of the patients there – most of them wheel chair bound for the rest of their days, some of them so young. I’ve noted the banter between them, and the look on the faces of some of their carers. There are so many worlds out there. Worlds where little has gone to plan, and where heavy loads are carried for decades. I don’t know what to say. Life is not tidy or fair, but somewhere in the midst is God. And it is not that God makes everything better, but that God journeys with us. That’s the one benefit of getting sick between Christmas and New Year. You can’t forget the Christmas part of it. For God is with us… And sometimes you have exceptional experiences of God’s presence, and they are more than enough, even if they only last 10 minutes. And that’s true, in hospital, or out.

Well, it’s now early afternoon. My surgery hasn’t been cancelled yet… so who knows. Perhaps tonight.

A very happy New Year to you. Nice chatting…

PS I’m now writing a day later. Yes, the surgery did happen last night. I am so grateful to my specialist Dr Leigh Archer for making sure it happened and for being exceptional in his follow up afterwards. Turned out to be a little more complicated than expected due to a fair amount of bleeding, but else all is good. I’m home now. I never expected when I set off to my GP for a “it’s best to be cautious” visit, that a four day and 2 hour adventure lay ahead. Now for the recovery. Apparently I’m allowed a little walking, no driving and lots of mooching around in week 1. Interesting! What should I mooch about?

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