Wake. Blood pressure. Pulse. Light in my eyes. Questions.
Breakfast: weetabix swimming in milk, toast with butter and jam, and a cup of tea.
Glad I have a bed at the end of the ward by the window. Not because of the view of the hospital roof and the plumbing for the air conditioning, but because I was able to open the window and have a nice cool draught of fresh air. Hospitals always seem so stiflingly hot, and this is no exception.
Assessing my fellow inmates… There are six beds in my room. Next to me there is a young Maltese lad who appears to had a tumour removed. His bed is surrounded by family from first thing in the morning until well after visiting time at night. Lots and lots of very loud jabbering in Maltese, and curtains pulled around shutting the rest of the world out. Next to the Maltesers is an Indian gentleman – very quiet, no idea what his operation was. Opposite him was a bearded white bloke with half his head shaved and a nice big surgical dressing where his hair used to be. He seemed cheerful enough, but didn’t really seem to know what was going on, and was watched over 24 hours a day by a nurse stationed at his bedside. Next to him (and opposite the Maltesers) was another Indian gentleman who was having MRI scans to try to determine why he was unable to regulate his body temperature. Finally, next to the second Indian gentleman, and opposite me, was an old boy of 86 who had had an operation on the top of his spine. The whiteboard by his bed said his name was Claude. Claude was a cantankerous old bugger, pulling faces and mouthing remarks to the retreating backs of nurses and catering staff that didn’t have a ready smile on their faces. He made me laugh though, and pretty soon we were exchanging irreverent banter and rude gestures across the ward.
Wife arrives with plenty of goodies to supplement the hospital food, which is actually not bad at all. I ordered an all day breakfast for lunch, and fish pie for dinner. Both meals good enough to eat. Bonus!
Visitors…
- The registrar, checking to see that I had actually turned up, I think, and telling me that I was first on the list the next morning.
- The anaesthetist, going through the procedure with me, telling me where they would be sticking their tubes, catheters, canulas. Warning me that he would probably knock at least one crown or bridge off, and expressing concern over my acid reflux and possible complications.
- The neurosurgeon, Ludvic Zrinzo, telling me that his afternoon slot was now vacant, and that I could have both stages of the operation done one after another. He asked me if I would be prepared to take part in a little research following the first stage of the procedure (implantation of the two electrodes into the sub thalamic nucleus of the brain) and before the second stage (implantation of the neurostimulator and connection to the electrodes) which would mean not performing the second part of the operation immediately, but a day or two later. I agreed to this with the proviso that the anaesthetist was happy for me to have two separate operations, given his concern over my acid reflux. “No problem, I’ll speak to him, see you in the morning”.
- Another DBS team member, asking if I would allow an artist to watch my operation tomorrow, with a view to producing an animated film about Parkinson’s Disease and Deep Brain Stimulation. Come one, come all! What the heck, of course I don’t mind! So I was introduced to Martha Orbach, and my wife and I chatted to her for a while and I managed to make her laugh by telling her that the operation was a complete no-brainer as far as I was concerned. We discussed the symptoms of the disease, and she learnt quite a lot about how skilful we are at concealing them from others – even my wife found out one or two things that I had managed to conceal from her. It transpired that she had never seen the operation before, so I emailed her a couple of YouTube videos to watch tonight: one showing my neurosurgeon, Ludvic Zrinzo, performing the “awake” operation – http://youtu.be/1_njABHP1sU (I have watched this one so many times, I feel that I know him personally. Having now met him, I can confirm that he is exactly as he appears to be in this video – a kind and caring man), and another showing the amazing effects of successful DBS – http://youtu.be/uBh2LxTW0s0.
Visitors gone. Lights out. Eyelids heavy. Sleep.