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Sunday, 11 April 2010

A New View

The hospital corridor is filled with trolleys containing files, Mr Fitch is extracting one of these files and talking to a nurse. In the distance my original consultant also extracts information from a similar trolley.

Earlier this year, in a similar situation, my heart rate would have escalated, and adrenaline would have coursed through my veins; but not today. Today I feel quite relaxed and at ease.

A nurse calls my name and Clare and I are ushered into a white room, sporting a computer, a chair, a bed covered in paper, and what looks like a vacuum cleaner for the body. However none of these things strike fear into me. Not even the title of the room “demonstration” in a discreet sign attached to the door fills me with trepidation.

My old consultant enters, clutching a large file. I immediately stretch out my hand and she takes it. I have had a strange, sometimes difficult relationship with this woman. She has wanted me to be disembowelled for a long time, and this has always been a matter of contention. Now it is done and we seem to be on a more level relationship. I am genuinely pleased to see her, and she is genuinely pleased that I am healthy. Brief conversation and then she leaves. “Back to the grindstone” as she puts it.

Next Mr Fitch enters with my notes. A large file held shut by a long brown rubber band. He removes the band and starts to twirl and twist it around his extremely clean hands.

After preliminary conversation, about whether I am getting on OK we move on to discussion of the future and possible surgery. Reconnection is the word they use.

“I think I want the full broadband 100 megabytes” I explain. The rubber band twists around his fingers tighter and tighter.

“I presume if it all goes wrong the worst thing that could happen is that I end up back where I am now?” I ask.

“No; the worst thing that could happen is that I could kill you” he says quite calmly. He assures me this extremely unlikely.

Later on we even have a joke and a laugh as he describes being in hospital himself one Christmas and being brought NHS sherry. NHS Sherry?.

"It was horrible and brown" He laughs loudly. I actually quite like this bloke.

I am not worried about the future whatever it may bring.

I must have travelled quite a long way in the last year. This would have freaked me out a few months ago.


  1. Well done Arkayeff. Glad you are feeling confident about it all. Your convo with the doc reminded me of that bond film:
    "I suppose you expect me to talk?"
    "No, Mr Bond, I expect you to... die! Mwahaha"

  2. Yes, that's the second time a bit of film script has turned up in this journey. The first time it was the Stoma Nurse with an interesting use of the English Language. It was before the op and he was trying to make me feel better. . .

    We are very good and giving pain, but we are also very good at taking it away again. . ." he said.

    This reminded me of Dustin Hoffman and Laurence Olivier in "The Marathon Man"

    Olivier to Hoffman:
    (Having just drilled into Hoffman's tooth)

    "Simple oil of cloves and how amazing the results. Life can be that simple; relief - discomfort. Now, which of these I next apply, that decision is in your hands, so ... take your time and tell me. . . . is it safe?"


I'm always interested to hear any thoughts or stories of your own. Please do comment.