At 10 o’ clock we reached the hospital. I followed my mum out of the parking structure towards the well-lit hospital. We passed through the big, sliding glass door into the harsh fluorescent lighting of Queens park hospital. We headed towards the ward in which I was staying. I remember my mum opening the ward door. The corridor was long, narrow and the darkness of it and the gloomy atmosphere ensured me I was not going to like my stay here!
My mum was walking fast on ahead, but I walked slowly, steadily on. I was trying to scrutinize everything around me. At most bedsides the patient’s family was congregated, there were children crying, or being sick, all of which gave me a very unwelcoming feeling.
It was not long before a middle-aged nurse came and asked my mum details regarding me. I trailed behind my mother and the nurse, trying to quell the nausea that was building in my stomach. Then she accommodated us to my bed, leaving my mum and me there. My mum tried making jokes, attempting to make me laugh, but I did not find them amusing at all!
All day nothing much happened. When it was 8 o’ clock a doctor came in to examine me whether I was well enough to have an operation the next day. After a little while the doctor came to tell me I was having my operation at 10 o’ clock the following day.
When my mum went and the lights were switched off I tucked into bed scared and worried of the following day. I remember the clock slowly ticking away, the peculiar sour antiseptic smell of the hospital, long corridors, beeping sounds coming from all corners, the stains on the ceiling which looked like coffee or tea stains, and the footsteps of the nurses. There was a sort of rhythm to the sound of their footsteps which grew louder as though they were coming towards me but then the sound would fade out with the nurse moving further away.
Not remembering how and when I managed to fall asleep, I woke up confused thinking, ‘this is not my bed.’ Then everything came back to me instantly and in a rush. I was in the hospital to have my operation. Believe me waking up in a strange room could be very disorientating. It was not long before it was 10 o’ clock in the morning; I was worried and nervous not knowing what was ahead of me. The time had come for the operation!
I was pushed along to the theatre room on a bed shivering in a white gown. Along the way I could feel the tension and conflict rising in my body. Gradually we came to a door reading ‘OPERATION THEATRE.’ This was it!
I was taken into a room where these people were dressed in blue wearing masks. I was asked to take a few breaths in the mask they gave me. Thereafter, I could barely keep my eyes open and the feeling for struggling of oxygen was awful. I felt as though they were trying to kill me.
I do not know what happened next but what I do remember is that I was awakened by the continuous beep of a machine. I tried to get up but the pain was unbelievable! Gradually after a few days the pain started to fade away and I was ready to go home!!! I had not felt more relieved ever than I had felt then. I just felt like a different person full of energy, enthusiasm and eagerness.
It was the end to a torturous, anguish nightmare! To this day the doctors say that they have no idea what the appendix does. All I know is that it causes a whole hell of a lot of pain. More then I have ever felt!
