A goes into hospital
Jan. 26th, 2018 09:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sawylUp around six in the morning to give A time for a last shower and left the house well before seven to allow A to drop me off at the bus stop for work, before heading to the hospital.
Despite going through the usual pre-op early — during which the anaesthetist recognised her from her last operation — she didn't go into theatre until 13:15. She came out after a couple of hours and then spent a few more in recovery, fighting off the effects of the anaesthetic, until she was well enough to be moved up to the ward around 18:45. By this time, we were waiting in the hospital reception and we went through once we got the all-clear from the nurses.
A looked terrible when we arrived: bundled in blankets and with a towel around her head because she felt cold, even as the rest of us were stripping off layers of clothing to deal with the sweltering heat. But she started to perk up after 30 minutes and by 20:00 when visiting hours were over, she was well enough to roll her eyes and argue with her mother about her menu choices, and order me and her father to do tomorrow's parkrun.
The whole thing was pretty tough to start with and I was emotional and wobbly enough that I didn't entirely trust myself to speak, but things got better both as A improved and I got a grip and realised that it was a bit self-indulgent to be teary when I was just standing by a bedside.
Despite going through the usual pre-op early — during which the anaesthetist recognised her from her last operation — she didn't go into theatre until 13:15. She came out after a couple of hours and then spent a few more in recovery, fighting off the effects of the anaesthetic, until she was well enough to be moved up to the ward around 18:45. By this time, we were waiting in the hospital reception and we went through once we got the all-clear from the nurses.
A looked terrible when we arrived: bundled in blankets and with a towel around her head because she felt cold, even as the rest of us were stripping off layers of clothing to deal with the sweltering heat. But she started to perk up after 30 minutes and by 20:00 when visiting hours were over, she was well enough to roll her eyes and argue with her mother about her menu choices, and order me and her father to do tomorrow's parkrun.
The whole thing was pretty tough to start with and I was emotional and wobbly enough that I didn't entirely trust myself to speak, but things got better both as A improved and I got a grip and realised that it was a bit self-indulgent to be teary when I was just standing by a bedside.
