You’ve Got To Hand It To Her

Two consecutive posts with ‘hand’ in their titles, shows that yesterday, at least, our subconsciouses were working overtime.

Today, you see, I received my Dupuytren’s fasciectomy.

This was performed by Mr Simon Richards at  Knightwood Ward, Lymington Hospital. He and rest of the team were friendly, efficient, and considerate. Although I was given a squeezy thingy to summon assistance if I needed it, at no time was I left to ask for anything.

I can’t describe the procedure because I was under a general anaesthetic at the time. I was most fortunate to be first on the list because before 11 a.m. I was in bed, awake, and dying for a pee. When, asked if I needed anything, I announced this latter fact, I was offered a bottle. I had to explain that I am emotionally unable to use such devices. Apparently it was a little soon for me to leave the bed. Two nurses therefore escorted me to the loo door. This was quite a relief. A short while after this, toast and marmalade and a large mug of coffee were brought in, followed by tea soon afterwards.Trees

There was a delightful woodland view from my bedroom window. Since there were other wards catering for up to ten other day surgery patients, I considered myself privileged to have been given my own room.

My blood pressure, pulse, and temperature were checked and pronounced satisfactory at regular intervals. I managed to mess things up a bit when a young woman was helping me to dress. The anaesthetic and any further necessities are applied through tubes attached to the back of the sound hand, by a small plug with a rather long needle inserted. This had not yet been removed.  When it came to my shirt, my dresser concentrated on the left, in the sling, arm, whilst I dealt with the other one. In error I pulled the needle out, and within seconds, I had a leech-like protuberance engorging itself on the hand. The young woman immediately obtained and applied an ice-pack to reduce the swelling, and replaced this with dental wadding to keep it down.

Wadding on hand

The photograph of the back of my hand shows the wadding; my bar code and best after date; and the Tissot watch Jessie gave me when I retired. I wear the latter all the time now.

I need to wear the sling for three days, and begin follow-up physiotherapy next week. With just one functioning hand, and one dodgy leg, my manoeuvrability is somewhat hampered, but at least my good hand is capable of typing.Derrick

I had to rely on Jackie to take photographs; to drive backwards and forwards to the hospital; to relieve me of my laptop each time I fell asleep over it as I dozed away the afternoon; to continue the garden maintenance; and, recognising I would appreciate finger food, to collect a Chinese takeaway meal this evening. You’ve got to hand it to her.