Pre-operation tests were first on the agenda and, within minutes, I was asked to take my shirt off for an X-ray and then a cardiograph. For some reason, the nurses (there were three of them) couldn't get a reading and, after a short discussion, blamed my manly, bodily hair, so they applied more cold gel but still without a result. Then one of them saw my mobile in a pocket and, after taking it away, all was well.
Maybe this was a hotel after all, for I was led to my room by another member of staff, elegantly dressed in a blue suit. A single room en-suite, with sofa-bed for a family member, was to be my home for the next 24 hours. However, a blue, paper, hospital gown and matching hat lay on the bed and brought me back down to reality; I was there for a hernia operation.
Earlier in the day, I'd been told that I had excessive hair and so wasn't surprised when a nurse entered with a sharp razor. Within minutes I resembled a plucked chicken and I wondered if I was now a Metro Man. An auxiliary then came in to take my order for meals, including afternoon tea that day and lunch the following day, and it gave me something to look forward to. At least I'd be ready for tea after the operation, I thought. But that was not to be, as they came for me later then arranged.
It's a peculiar sensation, lying on a trolley gazing up at the ceiling while being wheeled along a hospital corridor and I was losing my bearings. Then, the top of the trolley, with me on it, was pushed through a hatch onto another trolley in the operating area. It happened so quickly and there wasn't time to think about it. The next part, though, was the most painful. Bibi had laughingly re-assured me by saying that a beautiful nurse would tend to me - and there was this vision, waiting to insert a needle for intravenous use. She took my hand and forced the needle in. Alas, she couldn't find a vein, so, with a slight apology, tried an arm. Same non-result and this was hurting! Her third attempt was successful, but I could feel myself going into shock. I was shivering but had hot, clammy hands and just hoped that it would be over soon.
Sure enough, I was wheeled into the operating theatre and asked to transfer myself onto the table. I was unaware when the anaesthetist gave me an epidural and, thankfully, lost all feeling until, what seemed minutes later, the surgeon had skilfully completed his work and I was told the operation was over.
Taken back to my room and still numb from the waist down, I rested for a while and drips dispensed restorative liquids into my body. A light dinner, then peaceful sleep, although I was in a little pain, and it was soon morning. The surgeon returned to inspect his work and, satisfied, he gave me the all-clear to go home. My only regret was that I'd miss the grilled fish I'd ordered for lunch, but what an efficient service offered by the hospital. If it was a hotel, I'd recommend it on Trivago!