Surgery day arrives. What's feels really great is how organized we've been so that the kids won't feel it's a big deal. I will go to the hospital in a taxi which we have pre-ordered for 7:55am, J will take the kids to school before I leave at 7:50am, we'll all be really relaxed and I'll see them all after surgery and smile a lot.
7:45am text pings in from Comfort Cabs "Sorry, there are no cabs in your area, please try later". Oh. Helpful. Thanks. So now we have options:
1) J drops me at the hospital en route to school. It's too late to do this and get them there in time, so they will be late for class. To avoid detention, this involves getting a late pass from the office (including a detailed explanation of why you are late), and then of course explaining to your classmates why you are late....
2) We Phone-a-Friend to take me to hospital - but wait! - it's 7:50! - they are all on the school run
3) We brave it out and hope a taxi turns up. Downside of potentially missing surgery.
So we go with option 1 - I am by now NOT at all serene and Kanga like but trying my hardest - I hop out of the car at hospital with a cheery "see you later" and, now I think of it, "have a lovely day" and off they go to school. Of course everyone at school is simply wonderful, J charms them all and sorts it all out and there is no stress involved.....
Back in the hospital, I check in and am shown to my room - I love Singapore in these moments - my room is much like a hotel room. Sadly no Molten Brown in the bathroom but a little bag with toothpaste, soap, comb and flannel. Sweet.
The other joy was the outfit I now needed to get into. There were two immediate problems. Now I've seen loads of hospital dramas, ER, Greys Anatomy etc etc so I KNOW the gown goes on backwards. But how? There are about a million bits of string to tie - I give it a go but suspect I look like a macrame owl from the back and somehow know I've got it wrong.
The other problem were the two matching bath hats I was given. What are they for? Closer inspection shows that one has two holes in it - aha! The pin drops! Sexy surgical underwear! I'm so glad I spotted the holes - how mortifying would it have been to greet lovely Prof T wearing my pants on my head in a jaunty fashion.....
Prof T comes in with a a large magic marker and draws an enormously long line from my armpit, round the nipple on both sides, diagonally to the chestbone. "That's where I'll cut", he says. "Wouldn't do to get the wrong side hahahaha!". I hate him for a moment but laugh along. Then I have to sit up while he checks out both boobs (having, by the way, spent a good 5 minutes trying to get me out of the macrame owl. Efficient Nurse giggles a lot at this point. I hate her too but smile anyway.).
Apparently they are around 230-300 ml each - I mentally waste time trying to imagine this as a pint of beer but can't get my head around the conversion rate - with a slope on the upper side. He tries to make this sound like a good thing (he actually says "a lovely natural slope") but I know he means it's a bit saggy. I sneak a quick peak and am horrified by the big black line - how am I going to feel when it's a massive red scar - and more importantly, is J ever going to fancy me again? This is where I say goodbye to my old boob - and never look it again.
They will measure exact volume and put back in exactly what they took out.... OK, whatever......this is so not happening to me....
Give me the pre-meds now - I'm ready.
Two smiley chatty nurses come in and say they are ready to take me to surgery. Perhaps they are going to give me the pre-med? Nope - they wheel me off chatting. I check out both their boobs (oh god - is this what's ahead of me - a life of Benny Hill style tit peering?). We arrive in a waiting room where I fill in more forms (confirming that my name is Mrs Susan, etc etc) and meet the anaethatist. He seems very lovely - perhaps he's going to give me the pre-meds? Hmm it seems not. They leave me there for 10 mins with an extra blanket (I have three by this stage - the aircon Nazis are in full swing in the surgical ward). I start to quietly cry. I think I may have got the Demi Moore thing going here at last.
They then come and tell me not to cry, it will all be fine - and wheel me into the theatre. Hurrah! Time for pre-meds! Er....no....... They roll me onto the table and hook me up to various machines and disappear. Demi Moore speeds up big time. Add snot. I watch my heart rate rise every time someone comes through the door to wash something and amuse myself by using yoga techniques to bring it back down again. Hey, lying on the slab, you have to take all the fun you can get.
About 5 hours later (OK it was probably 5 mins) a hundred people in scrubs walk through the door and say "OK, we'll take it from here" - I breathe some gas and fall asleep.............
As zen-like and serene as ever, J xx
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