I had decompression surgery for Chiari Malformation Type 1 and Syringomyelia on 8th April 2009. This is a brief blog about what happened, day by day (sometimes hour by hour) to me during my stay in hospital leading up to surgery and the initial recovery.

I was scheduled to go to theatre first thing in the morning, so they asked me to attend on the evening before. I was asked to ring after midday to confirm that I had a bed, eventually at 4pm they called me to confirm that there was one and to be there by 5pm.

I had been told previously that they would have to shave the back of my head for the operation. I had had a skin head for the past 10 years on and off, so this wan't scary in any way. I had been growing it recently though under instruction from she who must be obeyed, so I had the opportunity to do it again - and it was official! So I shaved my head again - well, not quite all of it. I decided that if I was going to be laid up for a few months, the I could have some fun - I went for a Mohawk! well, in for a penny and all that. Looked quite weird actually, and nobody really knew how to take me when they saw it - most just laughed nervously, but it made me smile and that's all that matters!

I arrived at 6.15pm after a nice meal with my wife and a few beers to rest the nerves a little. (Wearing a baseball cap because I was suddenly shy)

I was signed in, given a wad of consent forms to sign and asked a lot of questions about foreign metal objects, false teeth, body jewellery, allergies. When the resistrar arrived he drew a large black arrow on the back of my head with permanent marker pen. It seems that they had to confirm to the surgical team that my posterior fossa was indeed at the back of my head....... hmmmmmmmmmm

They kicked my wife out at the end of visiting time and 4 hours later I was tucked into bed with a cup of tea and some toast at around midnight and told to be up early the next morning for a shower. However, I probably stayed up most of the night watching the Patient Line TV.

I was woken up at 6.30am and asked to go for a shower and don a lovely rear fastening gown and a pair of paper undies. I felt really special...well, I felt really draughty actually.

It was now 7am, and I was visited by a precession of anaesthetists, registrars and admin people who all asked me the same questions over and over.............. allergies, metal implants, false teeth etc etc etc...... they all got the same answer, maybe slightly more laboured each time however. Also, each one of them was told that I did not want to be catheterised either before, during or after the operation. I told them that I would manage my functions post op and if need be they were to use a mop in theatre if I was still under.

The wheeled me down to the theatre waiting room, where they attached electrode pads for the monitors to me then someone came over to see if I had false teeth, had any allergies.....well you get the rest. They then came and wheeled me into pre-op where a very efficient senior anaesthetist started putting lines in, and before I had the chance to catch his name I felt a judder in my body, then I was under. How rude I thought.....when I woke up 5 hours later.

I came round in the Neuro HDU ward. Just like a normal ward, except with less beds, and you are always visible to the nurse hovering around. My wife was by the side of my bed with a worried expression on her face, and I had tubes and wires sticking out of me and the worst hangover that I had ever experienced - and a mouth like the sole of Ghandi's flip flop. Well, that's what my selfish head immediately thought - most of it was in fact the truth apart from the tube thing - I was being melodramatic.

I did have a saline drip in, some kind of antibiotic, a morphine driver with a push button and monitor attached to the pads stuck to me and oxygen drifting into my nostrils. The monitor was removed as soon as I came round though.

All I wanted was a drink of water, and to hold my wife's hand to hold onto something that wasn't either as dry as a badgers bum or spinning like a top. The nurse finally gave in and allowed my wife to give me a few sips of water and run a cold wet flannel over my face and upper body. Then I drifted back into a morphine and anaesthesia induced nap.

When I woke for the second time, it was all still there, even my wife with her worried expression. I took on a little more fluid and started pressing the morphine driver again.
I wasn't so much in pain, but rather more in discomfort. My head, neck and shoulders were very stiff, I couldn't move and my backside was sore from lying in bed in a funny position for a while. I was grumpy and uncomfortable - never a good mix.

It was great having my wife there whilst I came round, I felt less vulnerable and could just let the drowsiness wash over me and let it take its natural course.

I started to become more and more aware as the nurse came over to take out the saline drip and mess with the line in my wrist. She wasn't exactly gentle either and I remember telling her so! It was like she had me in a 1A arm lock and was ready to cuff me.

I got a little more pampering from her indoors and soon it was time for her to leave.

I needed sleep anyway, and wasn't really awake enough to have any kind of conversation, but was really glad that she was there and helped me feel as comfortable and as clean and fresh as possible.

I had a really weird sleep that first night. Very uncomfortable, I remember asking for a water refill many times during the night - I was also aware that I hadn't yet managed to go to the toilet - unfortunately so had the nurse and she threatened me with the catheter!

I made it my goal to try and go, my bladder was full, I could feel it, but it was hard to wee into a paper bottle whilst lying down and unable to raise my head to see what I was doing.

Eventually and silly o'clock in the morning I managed it laying on my side. I know I'm labouring the point a little, but it's actually very important to be able to do this following surgery, especially when they have operated on your spine!

I was woken up (hahaha - as if I was asleep anyway) at about 6.30am when they turned the lights on and came to do my obs. The actually woke me up to do them, then left me for the next half an hour - why couldn't they have waited?

Then the breakfast trolley came round, but strangely I wasn't interested. Cold rough toast and crap tea out of a kiddies beaker just didn't seem appealing and I couldn't manage cereal because I was lying on my back unable to move much. I couldn't even shuffle up the bed with the back raised on the motor, I needed help and the nurse wan't strong enough to lift me on her own. I managed somehow to shuffle myself up, but lost the comfy pillows into a mess behind me and was far worse off. This was the pattern for the next 24 hours.

Then the nurses ganged up on me to change my sheets - with me still in the bed unable to move.

to be continued................