Raro's Finest...

Monday saw me at the hospital to have a couple of moles checked that have reappeared in the scar of my last melanoma removal site.  As it had grown back half the size from the first operation and a second bigger operation was needed you could understand my need to have these checked!  This meant the doctor admitting me on Wednesday night for surgery on Thursday....

All smiles...

Brendon took me in at 8pm Wednesday night and said to me "at least you will get a good nights sleep and a lie in", meaning George  wouldn't wake me up at 5am when he crawls into bed.  Little did he know how noisy a hospital can be.  I woke at 5.30am and thought about reading my book when a chap started  talking very loudly in Maori... About 10 minutes later, he was still talking, the nurse came in and took my obs and I asked her what was happening? Every morning there is a blessing by a different church to the hospital and the patients.     Which is actually a very lovely sentiment. However after the service is complete there must be the change of staff and the hullabaloo that followed was amazing. Gardeners were outside briefing the day, cleaners disputing cleaning topics, and nurses discussing nurses guff.  If someone wanted someone they just shouted down the corridor until the person replied! It quietened down about an hour later, when Brendon popped back up for a visit and forty winks!

'Yup, I can sleep anywhere, actually I am sleeping right now'!

I was rather surprised when I arrived and I was taken to a private room and shown my bed, I had thought I may be in a shared room.  It looks fairly new and they staff where lovely.  I had been told by people at work to take my own pillow, blanket and towel amongst the normal things you would take to hospital.  I am glad I had been as it was a little chilly at night.  

Written on foot, 'Not this one'...  hehe

The morning of the operation after the nurse had been in and noted down all the information they needed I had another nurse in who repeated the same check list and then weighed me. She had a laugh as I was standing on the scales..."wow, I wish!  I am double that", she said and continued to giggle to herself shaking her head and muttering and writing "fifty-two"...  Bless them there is no political correctness here which is a light relief.


As usual the gown and panties where stunning hospital attire...  The view from my room was worth the five hundred dollar bill! You could see right out to sea.

The gown! (not the panties ha ha)

The anesthetist was the next to visit and she too started to giggle when she saw me... (Yes I too was beginning to wonder if 'I' was that funny).  Then as I realised who she was I was having a laugh to!  Turns out I had just meet her on the weekend when she dropped Josh and his broken bike off.  She is the mother of Josh's friend from school! It was lovely to have a familiar face in the operating room and joke about Shortland Street and how unrealistic it is!


Being taken down to the surgical rooms I was very embarrassed to be moved via wheel chaired.  I had to wait while the doctor and nurse had a wee disagreement. He asked for a new skin graft tool to be used on me, she proceeded to say;
   "Have you used it before? "Have you watched the DVD like I told you?" 
   "No", he said.  
They both went off to a supply cupboard and 'had a chat'. The trainee doctor who has been shadowing the surgeon turned to me and said, "You'll be fine"... I then looked up at her and I smiled wondering who looked more anxious me or her?  The next dispute was who was to put the drip needle in.  When the conversation is "well if you tell me what to do I will give it a go" left me even more anxious.  Thankfully the kind anesthetist told her assistant that it was his job to do and if he didn't want to do it, she will!  He did end up doing it an  very painfully it was put in and soon after that I remember nothing until I woke up and Husband was back with the kids...

'eeeh'... 

When I was allowed to head home we slowly headed to the car which was not that far from the hospital doors.  Husband had to rush back to get a sick bag, but alas by the time he got back to me the need for it had passed as the carpark now wore the effects off my operation. I did however feel rather relieved for the cleaner, that I had been 'nil by mouth' for almost 24 hours!   


Today I am awfully glad that the nausea has passed, as must poor old hubby!  He does not cope so well with the gross bits, but he makes a hell of a good nurse and he brews a fantastic cup of tea!  Now to await the results and in seven days reveal what scars are left after the third operation... And what wonderful stories can be made up for children when they ask, "What happened to your leg?"  

What lies beneath? 

On a more serious note:
Remember readers ANY moles, freckles or spots that have changed or look unusual ~ GET THEM CHECKED! Melanoma is a aggressive and dangerous cancer that can be survived if you are skin smart and vigilant.


Much love


A thank you has to go to the hospital staff as it is always nerve-wrecking having