Well it looks like I have survived my first operation. A week ago tomorrow I finally had my hernia operation. I've no real idea how I got my hernia , I'm guessing that it was when I moved house on my own and had to put all my worldly goods including my very heavy crates of vinyl into storage. I noticed a lump , went to the doctors, he told me I would have to have an operation and I've been shitting myself for months ever since.

It's a long time since I'd had a good nights sleep, just worrying about all the things that could go wrong while I was in surgery, I won't dwell on them now because I still come out in a hot sweat. I got up last Wednesday morning at half six,I could see it was going to be a lovely day, hopefully if everything goes to plan and I'm one of the first in I should be out by dinnertime, or so I thought. Rachel was taking me to hospital so I could say bye to Neave, I sat in the back with her and held her hand all the way there.. Me Dad was going to stay at the hospital with me. Got there at 8.30, went in to see the nurse for pre-op blood pressure tests etc (100/50) she said it was very good. She said she wouldn't get me to put my gown on yet as there were two more people having the same operation before me. So we sat and waited and waited, watching all sorts of shite TV that really shouldn't be on air, e.g. the Jeremy Kyle show, it was so appalling it almost took my mind of the operation, I would much have preferred some nice calm relaxing music music to listen to while I was waiting , Radio 2 would have been ideal. I wish I'd thought to take my MP3 player. It did cross my mind on a few occassions to just get up leave me Dad sitting and walk out the hospital and try and live with the pain of the hernia but I resisted those urges.

The time came for me to go and get my gown on , they aren't the easiest things to get on by yourself, all that fastening of ties behind your back, I finally managed to get it on and then it was time to wait and wait some more. More crap TV to watch, and my Dad telling me to try and stop shaking like a leaf, easier said than done. It was 10 past eleven and a nurse from surgery came and took me down to room 5 "just here on the right", now I was papping my pants, they got me to sign my life away , well it could have been, I wasn't paying any attention now I could see the table I would soon be lying on. The surgeon came and shook my sweaty palm and then I had to lay down on the bed while they tried to get a vein so they could inject me with the general anaesthetic, I could feel my whole body just shaking it was like when I go to the dentist only a hundred times worse. The surgeon said "Your shaking all over" (no it wasn't Johnny Kidd a his Pirates doing the op!) "are you cold?" , "No" I replied "I'm fucking scared shitless , I've changed my mind, can I go home?" well thats what I might have said, but instead I quivered like a little child " um...I... I... I... I... I'm just a little nervous, thats all" . "Nothing to be nervous about just take some deep breaths into this mask", oh yes, that made me feel tons better. I managed to count to about ten breaths and that was it, out for the count.

The next I knew I was in recovery, the nurse was by my bed "Stephen, are you OK? Stephen", at first I said yes, fine, then I moved and said actually no I'm not, I was in pain. Which was unexpected because the nurse who did my pre-op said I should be OK if I agree to the pain relief that they stick up your bum, she told me it was very effective and got to work straight away and lasted up to 16 hours, well if i'd had one of those and they told me I had , it wasn't working. I couldn't move without a stinging pain that made me shout. I'm not 100% certain but I think she might have given me a couple of tablets to take round about now, but I was nodding off every now and again, so I can't really be sure. I did notice it was 10 past one though, and thought that it was strange I'd been out for the count so long. I just seemed to lie there for ages, every now and again the nurse would ask if I was OK and I would say "No I'm in a bit of pain, maybe I'm just soft", she never reassurred me, it would have been nice if she'd said, "Your bound to be in pain, everyone is after that operation". The surgeon came to see me and she told him I was in a bit of pain (A bit! A lot!) he told her to give me something which she did, no idea what, but she kept injecting it every now and again. Didn't seem to help at all, I couldn't move without moaning. Time was getting on , it was 10 to 3 and said to the nurse that I shouldn't still be in recovery should I? She just said everyone is different, and once she gave me the last bit of painkiller I could go back on the ward.

It was about 10 past 3 , when they wheeled me back on to the ward, the nurse who gave me my pre-op came to look after me then, she was really nice. I was still in pain but somehow felt better for being up there. I had some water and moaned some more. They brought me some tea and toast but then I just started to feel dreadful, a sick bucket was required, thankfully I didn't have to use it. Geraldine, my nurse asked if I wanted an injection that would stop me feeling sick, why not, I've got all sorts of other chemicals running through my veins, a few more aren't going to make any difference. It wasn't long after this that my blood pressure was checked, then checked again and again.... "There might be something wrong with the machine, test his blood pressure manually, it seems quite low." The student nurse checked it manually and confirmed that it was low. I asked what it was but they wouldn't say. Time to shit myself again. My dad came over to see me and said I looked fine, I didn't feel it. He was only allowed to stop five minutes, so that I could rest. Then I heard a phonecall ... " He's OK but not recovering that well, looking at him now I don't think he'll be home today" , couldn't be talking about me, my Dad just said I looked fine. Then I fell back to sleep.

When I next opened my eyes, I felt alright, no lightheadedness, didn't feel sick, just hungry and thirsty. They checked my blood pressure but it was still low. They brought me some tea and toast , which was the best tea and toast I'd ever had, I started to feel really great, still in pain but better in myself. "Thats better" said the nurse "You had us all worried there for a while, your arms are warming up now and you've got some colour back in your lips", my Dad said "You looked terrible an hour ago", eh? "didn't you say I looked fine?", even the sudent nurse said I was looking a whole lot better. All of that got me worrying again.

The nurses told me I would have to make the effort to get myself mobile or else I was going nowhere except ward 32. I had to be able to sit up, which I just about managed. Then I had to get up and walk to a chair, which was very painful, but I knew I had to or else I was going to have to have an overnight stay in hospital, and that was the last thing I wanted. Blood pressure time again, still low but on the up, a can of pop will help they said, so I chose a can of Lilt with it's totally tropical taste. My eyes lit up when the nurse walked towards me with my clothes and bag ,time to to dress myself, it took me a long time but I managed, even got my socks on! The final test was to go for a pee, this wasn't as painful as I expected, butI still can't stand up for one a week later.

That was it, time to go well one more blood pressure test, almost back to normal, the drip had to come out of my arm , which absolutely killed me, I made more noise from the nurse ripping the tape off my hairy arms than when I was in pain from the op, I think they had double insulated it with tape that was stronger than gaffer tape. It really really hurt. The nurse said I could go so I thanked them all very much and I was out of there. Now I'm just resting.