Out of the blue
It happened to me. The thing that you
kid yourself only happens to other people. Why would it happen to
me? I'll be fine. Only I wasn't.
I remember reading
through the possible medical complications that could arise as a
result of my surgery when I signed the consent form, ranging from
mild things like bruising, scarring, pain to the absolute worst of
the worst, death and everything in between. I remember the intense
fear inside me but I also remember thinking “I'll be okay, I'll do
everything right and I'll not be that one person in however many that
it happens to, I simply won't be.” Little did I know that six
months later my world would be turned upside down.
After
my surgery everything was perfect. I was progressing very well, I
was losing weight and able to eat and drink fine. I attended every
single outpatient appointment given to me, I took all my supplements,
I was more or less a perfect post-bariatric surgery patient. It was
the evening of the 6th
of January 2014, my husband had the day off work and we had been
enjoying it together, having a wander around town and a coffee. I
felt completely fine, there wasn't anything at all that made me
question my health. We had some tea and then sat down and had a
Bananagrams tournament which ended up running late into the evening.
It was about midnight when we decided to turn in for the night. I'd
started having a bit of discomfort in my tummy, nothing terrible,
just the feeling you get when you have trapped wind. After a trip to
the bathroom with no result I went to bed and expected that by
morning I would feel better. As soon as I laid down flat on my bed
the discomfort in my tummy turned into an intense pain which took my
breath away and I began to panic. I hoped that the pain would pass
quickly but after a couple of minutes the pain was continuing to
intensify and I was screaming in pain, writhing all over the bed
trying anything to give me relief from the constant agony in my
tummy, begging my husband to call an ambulance. It was at that point
that I knew deep down something was very wrong and the fear of what
it was made the situation even worse. Although it can't have been
more than ten minutes until the ambulance arrived, it felt like an
eternity. I had gone cold, my back was drenched in cold sweat and I
was beginning to lose consciousness. I had started retching and
bringing up foam. I remember the pain was still as intense as ever
but I didn't have the strength to cry out any more. It was as though
I had left my body and was standing at the edge of the room looking
in on the scene playing out, I wasn't me any more. I remember the
look on my husband's face, he was pale, he didn't know what to do, he
just kept stroking me and telling me he was with me, telling me not
to go to sleep, that I needed to stay awake.
The paramedics got
me settled in the back of the ambulance and gave me some gas and air
to take the edge off the pain but I may as well have not bothered
with it, it offered me no relief at all. I just kept thinking to
myself “What is wrong with me?” I ran through all the
possibilities in my mind, gall stones are a common occurrence with
post-bariatric patients, it seemed logical to me and the symptoms
fit. We had also been trying to fall pregnant, was I having a
miscarriage or an ectopic pregnancy?
When we got to A&E
the staff started working on me immediately, they put a cannula in my
hand so they could administer some much needed pain relief but even
at the maximum dose of morphine I was still begging the nurse for
more. I felt out of control and just wanted them to put me to sleep,
I kept begging them to just put me to sleep and wake me when it was
all over. A pregnancy test came back negative so ectopic pregnancy
was ruled out, everyone was now looking towards signs of gall stones.
At this point I have very little recollection of the events which
followed so I can only go from what my husband has told me. I was
taken for an X-Ray and then was later taken to a ward where they kept
my pain levels under control and were monitoring me until 8am when
the consultants would start arriving and assessing patients. My
husband was asked to leave and I can't even remember him going.
A familiar face
came to see me, Mr Miller, the head of bariatric surgery and someone
I have been in contact with in the past. He was very grave and told
me that he needed to get me into surgery immediately to see what the
problem was, my vitals were not good and my blood work had come back
all over the place. I asked him if it was going to be open surgery
and he nodded at me, I burst into tears and started bargaining with
him to try and do it keyhole but he very firmly said that if I
refused he could not guarantee what would happen to me, he had the
consent form in his hand and he wasn't asking me to sign it, he was
urging me to sign it. He told me that as soon as I had signed my
name he would be going to scrub for the surgery and I would be taken
immediately. I had no one with me. I had gotten my husband to call
my family and tell them it was nothing to worry about, it was
probably just gall stones and they would treat me and then let me go.
I had told my husband to go off to work as usual expecting that
everything would be fine after some medicine and yet here I was, in
the middle of a flurry of a medical emergency. A nurse had come to
put another cannula in my arm before I was wheeled away and they told
me it would be best if I contacted my family and let them know what
was happening. Everyone was acting so strangely, they were looking
at me sympathetically, worriedly and I didn't know why but I knew it
was serious. I called my mum and then my husband, explained what was
happening and told them not to worry, I was in very capable hands.
It hurts now to know that those phone calls could very well have been
my last, I didn't know it, no one knew it, but I was dying at that
point and the surgery was the only thing that could save me.
I was wheeled into
theatre, it was so much bigger than the last time. I recalled the
theatre from my first surgery and remembered thinking, there's no
where near enough room for them to do the surgery here! But this one
was massive and there were so many people in blue with masks on
around me I couldn't even count. My heart was racing in my chest and
once I was on the operating table I just kept begging the kind woman
holding my hand to please put me to sleep, I said it over and over
again, I remember the warm tears pooling in my ears and muffling the
sound of my own voice and then I was under.



