YESTERDAY’S LAPAROSCOPY.

It’s the day after my diagnostic laparoscopy, so I will be sharing what happened from when I got to the hospital to when I finally got home late last night. There’s going to be some images of my stay so this is a warning if you do not wish to see any fresh incisions post-op then I advise that you don’t scroll past the fourth image (hospital gown)!

My second diagnostic laparoscopy yesterday was under a new hospital and new consultant after my first one in May 2019 brought no answers and an overall terrible attitude towards my health and wellbeing which lead me to discussing getting another consultant’s opinion with my GP.  So in November 2019 I was referred to a new consultant at a private hospital (through the NHS), almost an hour away from my home. This lead to immediate discussions of my medical history, my symptoms, how long they have been going on for and how they affect my daily life. Fast forward to ultrasounds and MRI’s and then my last consultation in February 2020 where we were getting ready for a Laparoscopy for my new consultant to look at me and take biopsies after making notes on the areas that are the worst for the pain etc. Thank you COVID for delaying any other medical appointments for almost several months.

My procedure was scheduled for late afternoon, meaning I was to arrive at the hospital for just after 1pm. I got up early just to eat some breakfast and a coffee which needed to be consumed at least 6 hour before admission and then small sips of water up to two hours before the procedure. Let’s just say a private hospital is a lot different with an NHS hospital. No sharing a day ward with up to 11 (yes 11) other women to have a laparoscopy not knowing what time your slot is and having to be there for 7/7.30am. Oh no this was luxury to me: my own room with a TV, a thermostat I could control myself and a fancy bathroom with a shower I had shower envy over. I guess it’s kind of like being in a nice hotel but with wires, blood and drugs. Of course you still have to have a routine pregnancy test, even when you know and can easily admit to there being absolutely no chance of being pregnant. It’s just routine for women, as frustrating as it is when you’ve had to piss in cups, tubes, bed pans and so on fuck knows how many times. They just need to know before they can do anything. Then of course more paperwork to fill out, read and sign, just to really make sure but also COVID questionnaires. That new norm shit.

A couple of hours before the procedure (I was passing time by watching some TV and trying not to think about food which didn’t go well to be honest) the anaesthetist came in, introduced himself and then went through with me any allergies and if I was okay with a certain type of pain medication (I cannot remember what pain relief). About 10 minutes later my consultant came in and then went through my forms again, did the job of listing the possible complications to which I joked to him about one of the complications listed in the routine surgery with COVID-19 leaflet included death - that’s not a complication, that’s just shit, let’s be honest. There are complications with routine surgery anyway but they have to legally inform you of these risks (so don’t panic if you are in this situation and they will answer any questions and concerns) but I’m in that “fuck it” stage of years of back and forth with my health now so I’m not so phased by it (still keep all the documents to refer back to, just in case).

It must have been about 5.15pm when I walked down the basement where the theatres and recover rooms were (the porter called it the dungeon but honestly it was too fancy for that still). More checking of the “is that your signature” and health questions by two more of the staff. My cannula was then inserted into my left hand by the lovely legal drug dealer anaesthetist where you start counting down from 10 and don’t even make it to 9. Next thing you know, over an hour has passed and you’re in a different room! I didn’t have a panic attack this time and try and rip out my cannula (that happened last time) but the recovery room looked like the room I was in pre-op which helped out massively. The staff in recovery were being really nice and telling me that I did well (held in saying I have no idea what went on, I could have been made to be dancing around for all I know but I’m assuming not though). But it was a nice comfort either way - no complication of death occurred, so a good start. I was then rolled back to my room where I dozed for about half an hour before one of the nurses came back in to check on me and get some drink and food sorted for me. The tick list before you can be discharged is: get some drink down you, get some food down you and able to pass urine yourself, you cannot be discharged until you’ve done all three. Last time I had to stay in the night because I couldn’t pass urine (guess my bladder didn’t wake up the same as the rest of my body, this is quite common with patients) but I managed this time, hurrah! It just took some time to be able to move myself, so I was discharged about 9.45pm and on my way home at 10.20pm, ready for my own bed. I was sent home with pain relief, all copies of my forms, leaflets on signs of side effects, how to clean your wounds and extra dressings.

I was told that several biopsies were taken during the laparoscopy and that I wouldn’t be seeing my consultant now for about 6 weeks (thank you COVID for scowling lab testing for anything else down). Which is frustrating not knowing what was seen for this amount of time but it gives my consultant time to go back through the imaging and results of the biopsies and plan for when  will see him next what will be said. Plus time for me to recover and have a better headspace rather than a GA and pain relief foggy head where most words have gone over my head. I’m feeling more positive this time around, purely from the fact my consultant has taken the time to speak to me properly about everything and plan accordingly to my list of symptoms and issues etc. Fingers crossed for some answers in 6 weeks rather than, yet again, being made to feel it’s all in my goddamn head and “just bad IBS” - at least I’m not left with two forms of internal contraception in for 13 weeks this time. Another win with the new consultant. A longer post than normal but I thought it would be handy to point out things that happen for anyone needing a laparoscopy.

Now for the images of my stay. The first four images will be my room pre-op, my recovery goodies and then my aftermath hospital gown. If you do not wish to see the aftermath of a laparoscopy, then do not scroll post image four! I’m just going to show how you’ll end up looking after a laparoscopy. I had two incisions, one just below my bellybutton (next to my last incision) and another on my left side where I experience most of my pain (scar on my right side from 2019 laparoscopy which is very faint on the images but now I have points of a triangle so therefore I’m calling my abdomen Bermuda because of all the goddamn mysteries of it over the years). During a laparoscopy, your abdomen will be filled with gas to inflate you, making it easier for them to look around so you will come out of it super bloated: bloated from your incisions and then additional bloating from the gas. I didn’t have any dressings put on afterwards so you will see my incisions (I out dressings on ready for when I got changed to travel home, I definitely did not want to catch them). I was also completely covered in iodine (obviously a very thorough job was carried out) so that is also on show (I recommend packing pads and wipes for your stay to clean yourself up and for any possible bleeding). I’ve censored out my crotch, the surgical pants I was given were a tad ruined and I won’t offend anyone with my crotch.