Bravo...Great Performance...Disappointing...Boo!

                                        

I felt a bit of a Muppet last week at the hospital.

The day dawned early, and I avoided any breakfast as instructed in the appointment letter. Having swallowed my morning medications dry, I was left with a bitter taste, which was nothing compared to what was to come.

The hospital wing resembled an airport, with queues of expectant folk with overnight bags, shopping and cafeteria food, all seated in differing waiting areas, with their minds slavishly following the small TV monitors housed at an untouchable angle.

I joined the huddle, as if in line for a jet to Fiji or Malaga…….

My destination, however, involved nakedness, a hospital gown plus a lot of peering and prodding at my groin, as I was wheeled into the theatre. 

Soon I was woozy from the anaesthetic, drifting until I was aware of a medical exclamation and a sudden conclave huddled around me.

Looking at his monitor the surgeon checked with his colleague, who checked the screen. Then they checked Wikipedia. (Actually they probably didn't)

In hindsight I suspect they were checking the date of the MRI scans, which showed the extent of my fossilisation  in January. Then I was sufficiently calcified to warrant surgery. However since that Jurassic period times have changed, and my femoral artery is now so filled with hard chalk, that my bone resembles that of a triceratops.

Looming over me. The surgeon took off his mask and said that the calcium  had now completely blocked the top of my artery, and so a stent was not possible. Instead a bypass would have to be grafted on, to allow the cardiac juices to flow. Due to the jolly old immune system, it had to be a deceased donor graft, and not plastic. These veins are “harvested” at the same time that organs are retrieved, and amazingly they can stay active and fresh for about a week!

I was whisked out of the theatre, and back to the ward to recover from my invasive but ultimately unsuccessful procedure. Following an enforced stay I eventually went home to recover.

It looks like I had chalked up yet another medical milestone. Indeed I was yet again on a transplant list, waiting for the call.

Lets hope I don’t have to wait in vain.