Scoliosis Surgery: Now or Never…

This part is all a blur, sometimes I wonder how I got through it at all.
I had to be at the hospital at 3pm on the 28th July 2010, that morning I was surprisingly calm and a little excited.
I knew it was something I had to deal with and I think after waiting a year I was keen to get it over with and excited to finally deal with it and move on with my life.
When we arrived and I saw all the other people on my ward in their hospital beds I did get a little upset – I’d never been in hospital before and it was all a bit overwhelming.
The worst part was when my family left and I was in hospital alone.
I started to unpack my things and spoke to the lady in the bed next to me who told me all about ‘Percy the Peacock’ who apparently woke everyone on the ward up at 4am each morning.
 I also had some tea and just kind of sat there on my bed, worrying.
I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Should I get into my pyjamas’? Get into bed? Or just sit on my bed?
My scoliosis surgeon came to see me before I could decide what to do and we spoke a bit about the surgery and if I had any questions.
I felt slightly better after speaking to him but just knew I wouldn’t sleep at all that night.
I was right, I didn’t, despite taking two sleeping tablets the nurses gave me.
I read my book instead, although the words didn’t go in.
The Day of the Surgery
The morning of the surgery I was woken at 6am by the nurses administering the morning pills shortly followed by breakfast. I wasn’t allowed any breakfast but felt so sick with fear I doubt I would have been able to eat a thing anyway.
It all felt kind of surreal, like it wasn’t me this was happening to and I was watching somebody else.
I was made to have a shower, change into some paper pants and a gown and just wait. Those were the longest few hours of my life; every time a nurse walked past the ward I looked up expecting it to be time.  If I’d have known how long it would be until I had another shower I would have taken time to appreciate that ‘last shower.’ As it goes I was so nervous, I kind of showered without even realising what I was doing.
My parents came back to visit me again but weren’t allowed in the ward at this time, so I met them in the day room. It didn’t feel real that in a few minutes I would be called away and be taken for major surgery – it kind of felt like it wasn’t happening to me, like I was in a dream.
We chatted for a bit, I can’t remember what we spoke about, just small talk I guess to pass the time and take our minds off what was about to happen – I couldn’t really concentrate on what was being said if I’m honest.
After what felt like an age I was eventually called through by one of the porters that they were ready for me. I couldn’t help thinking that this could be the last time I would see them again.
I had to sign some forms and answered a few questions then I got into my bed and the porter wheeled me to the operating theatre. He tried to make a few jokes to take my mind off things but it didn’t really help my nerves.
This was it, now or never.

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