I had, since the New Year, been suffering from a series of cysts in and around my eyes, and although my left eye had healed up, my right eye had become more and more ugly. Prescriptions of increasingly powerful antibiotics had done little to solve the problem, and it was eventually decided that I needed to be referred to the eye clinic at Ipswich Hospital, which might involve surgery.
My situation wasn't life threatening, or even particularly inconvenient, but as weeks passed, I developed a red growth which protruded out from under my upper eyelid and increasingly into the line of sight. The four weeks in which I was told I could expect to hear from the eye clinic with an appointment came and went, and Ros became increasingly concerned, especially as I might then have to wait another eighteen weeks to actually be seen.
And so, rather grudgingly, I returned to my GP to see what might be done. He examined my eye and concluded that it might be necessary to chivvy the eye clinic along, and after a brief exchange of telephone calls, he assured me that I might hear soon.
Two days later, my phone rang. It was the eye clinic, who advised that they had had a cancellation, and could I come in tomorrow morning? Naturally, I said I could and so, the next morning, Ros dropped me off at the entrance to the Outpatients Department at 7.40 a.m. on her way to Harwich for a meeting.
I was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the first person to arrive at the Opthalmic Day Care Unit, and was welcomed by a nurse, who confirmed my identity and asked me to sit in the waiting area whilst she organised paperwork. But before long, she led me through to the patient area, where she asked a few more questions, explained what the process would be, and set me up for events to follow.
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| I wanted a black eye patch... |
Before too long, the surgeon, Ms Murthy, called me in for a brief examination, explained what the problem was, and what would happen, which involved the injection of an anaesthetic directly into my eyelid. it would, she said with rather more candour than I might have expected, be pretty painful for five to ten seconds, but that after that I wouldn't feel anything. I was then returned to my seat whilst other patients were dealt with.
Soon enough, I was asked to move to a new seat, on what looked like it might be a motorised wheelchair, where my blood pressure was taken (123/83 for those of you who understand these things) before I was wheeled into a prep room where the chair was, by dint of motors, converted into a surgery table (I was impressed, I must say). I chatted with the nurse who applied some anaesthetic drops and talked me through the next few minutes and then the action started.
Ms Murthy made sure that I was comfortable and I didn't even see the injection needle coming. And, whilst I knew that she was inserting something into my eye, I've actually had more painful experiences giving blood. But, with one eye closed and the other unseeing temporarily, she went about her work before telling me that there would be a smell of burning whilst she cauterised some minor blood vessels in the eyelid. I have to tell you, the smell of burning bureaucrat is not particularly unpleasant.
And then it was all over. I was returned to the patient area where I was offered tea and biscuits whilst I recovered from the procedure - not that I had much to recover from. The nurses were friendly and kind, I was checked to see if i was alright, and they then gave me my discharge letter before calling a taxi company so that I could get home.
This was my first experience of surgery apart from the removal of wisdom teeth nearly ten years ago, and I have to say that I was impressed. The attention to detail and kindness of the nursing staff, the skill of the surgeon, everything worked, it wasn't soulless or uncaring - all in all it was an experience that reassures you that, when you need the system to work, it generally does.
And it led me to think a bit...
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