My ticket home

So yesterday in 'X marks the spot' you saw that I has been marked up for a new Hickman line.

I was told I was on the afternoon list and that they would come for me about 5pm. Well 5pm came and went and by 6pm I was starting to get twitchy. I asked a nurse if they were definitely coming and she said that another lady on the ward had had hers cancelled so she had better check if mine was cancelled too. 

The thought of it being cancelled made me feel sick as I'd already started to think about going home, seeing the kids and our family day out at winter wonderland on Friday. 

She came back to say they were running behind but they were still coming for me. Phew!

At 7pm the porter came and I asked the nurses if they would lock my handbag away for me. This sent them into meltdown as apparently they would have to log every single item in there, every coin and credit card in my purse to ensure that no-one could be accused of taking anything while I was off the ward. 

At this point the interventional radiology suite (IRS) rang and said that if I didn't get down there quickly they wouldn't be able to do it as the department closes at 8pm. 

So I ended up taking my handbag with me, much to the nurses relief. 

When we got down to IRS everyone was rushing about as the clock was ticking towards 8pm. The nurse said they were going to cancel me but then they thought they could just squeeze me in. 

The Dr came and consented me before I was taken into the theatre. In there I had to put on what can only be described as a surgical shower cap on to keep my hair out of the way and then I got onto the table. 

Oxygen is placed on, not through a mask but the little tubes up your nose, and they put the blood pressure cuff and finger probe on so they can monitor your vital signs throughout. 

As the doctor and nurses scrubbed up I was given some sedation and pain relief (thank goodness as Princess Alexandra hospital don't do this and it makes the experience horrific).

Then it was arms out of my gown, boobs out for all the world to see and then I was painted with the orange cleaning stuff like you see on Holby City. 

They place a surgical drape over the area they are working on and as the entry site is in the neck and exit site, the chest, it covered my face. I didn't mind as having watched them out the Groshong line in I think I'm scarred for life!

The local anaesthetic being injected is actually the most painful part as the needle is pretty big and it stings like hell. Once I had been poked a few times they started on getting the line in. 

Getting it in the neck is the easy part, tunnelling it under your skin in your chest, erm, not so easy. So began a lot of pushing and pulling to get it through but it was over pretty quickly and they topped up the pain relief so it wasn't too bad. 

They use X-rays to ensure that the line follows the vein and goes to the heart properly (a bit like in the picture below) and then bobs your uncle all done. 

Just a few stitches to hold it all in place- only problem was by this time the local anaesthetic had worn off so he was essentially just sewing me up and boy did it hurt. 

It did make me think how people managed years ago before all the anaesthetics and pain relief were developed and I think that any kind of surgery would have been pretty horrendous to endure. 

Anyway, back to 2013 and the IRS. Once its all done you have to have a chest X-ray to check that they haven't accidentally hit your lungs in the process and that the line hasn't slipped when you sit up. The X-ray looked fine so I was wheeled back to the ward. 

Not having seen the line yet I had a little nosy- look away now if you're a bit delicate. 

Having been nil by mouth since 9am I was starving by this point but there were no veggie sandwiches on the ward so the nurses found a packet of crisps, some bread and butter and a packet of biscuits for me. A carb feast!

Overnight they've used the line for my TPN fluids and everything looks good. If the doctor is happy then later on I will be discharged. 

This line is my ticket home to spend Christmas with my husband and kids. I'm so grateful to Dr 7 and Dr 1 for bringing me here and getting me sorted I could kiss them (but I think that would be highly inappropriate and they probably wouldn't welcome it, so a nice card and a good bottle of wine should do the job)

NB x