Cancer 125

OK, well that went fine. I could feel it as the surgeon cut into my jugular, and as he shoved the plastic piping through my vein to my heart, but it wasn’t painful. The most painful part was the injections of the local anaesthetic at the start of the procedure, but I was ready for those.

I was laid flat on a bed and sterile sheets were placed over my head and chest. My head faced left, and I could see a little of the room and breathe just a little air through the gap. The procedure didn’t take long. There were a few jokes about blood and a complaint that the nurse had provided the wrong bit of wire, but it was all good-humoured. I talked to the surgeon about his hobbies, butterflies and beekeeping. They don’t pin butterflies to boards any more. Boring. We also talked about the Holocaust, the Bosnian War, and the state of politics in the USA and the UK. Perhaps if I had said anything he didn’t agree with the hole in my jugular would have been much bigger.

I was then forced to hang around for an hour to make sure there were no ill effects. There weren’t. Then, as a certain person who came with me to the hospital in case she had to drive me home (she didn’t) ate pie and chips while I was suffering under the scalpel, I had pie, chips peas and gravy on the way home. Delicious.