Tag: Hampshire

Not Just A Problem In Fareham


https://app.portsmouth.co.uk/story/full_page_image/14th-october-2025-page-17_4f4607e0/content.html

A councillor has said more needs to be done by police to tackle speeding and anti-social driving behaviour across Fareham.

It’s not just Fareham that needs the additional focus. Here, in Waterlooville, we are also plagued by antisocial driving and speeding.

Councillor Pal Hayre is right to be asking for more measures to be put in place, but they need to be county-wide. Thats just me being parochial, this is a countrywide problem.

It’s all very well expecting the police to do more but they need the resources. They need more feet on the ground, more wheels in the street.

A Friendly Dragonfly


On this day, 16th October, 2019, this dragonfly decided to say hello.

Bobs Bowel 11


So here we all are, on the other side. I survived the procedure. I guess that I should apologise for leaving you all hanging. Since leaving hospital I have had a few things going on with friends and family. And, keeping a blog going does require a degree of concentration and effort. Of which I have had none.

My procedure, I am very pleased to say went well, took place on Monday 31st March. Originally estimated to take 4 – 4.5 hours, actually  took six hours. On regaining conciousness, in the recovery room,  I was given two pieces of news.

Firstly, that they, the surgical team, had taken more than was originally planned. Originally, I was supposed to be having a “left hemicolectomy” but in the end I had an “extended right hemicolectomy”.

Secondly, a bit of very welcome news, was that I did not have a stoma and therefore would not be having to deal with a colostomy bag.

The Hospital Stay

After a brief sojourn in the recovery room I was wheeled along to ICU to spend my first night in hospital. But before I could contemplate sleep I was given a full body bed bath. That was a first for me.

I was also starving, not having eaten since Sunday evening, the day before. But at this time I was restricted to clear fluids.

How noisy are hospitals ? Staff banging cupboard doors, clattering of trolleys and trays and let’s not forget talking at elevated levels. At one stage there was a guy strutting the length of the ward, and back again, speaking into a phone which he held away from his face.

Don’t they realise there are sick people in ICU, trying to rest and recover ?

1st April – Operation Day +1

At around 10:30 the staff in ICU got me out of bed, had me sitting in a chair and brought me stuff to have a wash. To be fair I didn’t stay in that chair for long. It was too upright, not very comfy, made my back ache and my tummy was a bit sore.

But there was a nice view away to the south and west looking out over Portchester, the Isle of Wight and down to Southampton Water. All with blue skies and sunshine.

Still no food, just clear fluids, black tea, black coffee,  water !!! and I’m starving.

Later, on the evening of the same day, they moved me out of ICU and shipped me off to the surgical ward. Sharing the ward with six other inmates and no view.

If I thought ICU was noisy, they had nothing on this ward. I couldn’t see what it was but there was something at the far end of the ward making a sound like a diesel truck on a fast idle. Thankfully after about thirty minutes it stopped. Rumour has it that the noise was from an air bed being inflated !!!

Apart from the noise, another issue I had was the temperature of the ward. On arrival I broke into a sweat and I know, when at home, I  break out at around 25°C. One of the nurses very kindly brought me a fan which improved things but, under cover of darkness, someone snuck in and turned it off.

How Rude!

2nd April – Operation Day +2

A nurse brought me a bowl of warm water for a wash and a change of gown. Ablutions completed I tried to put on the fresh gown which was way to small. When I flagged the size issue I was told that they had no gowns my size and offered me a “shirt”, i.e. an NHS pyjama jacket which was even smaller. The nurse said she would order a larger gown.

Order ? How long was that gonna take?

Anyway, thankfully, someone turned up with a large gown. I should point out that I did have my own pyjamas but due to the various tubes attached about my person there was no way I could get into them. At this time I was catheterised and also having a saline drip.

Time in hospital can pass very slowly. I had prepared for this by bringing in a book to read, also a book of crossword puzzles. I also had my phone on which I do soduku and read via Kindle. The problem was that I couldn’t focus on anything. In fact trying to focus took so much effort I kept dozing.

I had a very pleasant visit from my granddaughter in the morning and, later, my wife and daughter arrived to break up the afternoon.

At last, I was told I could have something to eat. My first meal for three days was a supper of chicken soup, yoghurt, jelly, and vanilla ice cream. Not very substantial but you would not believe how good that chicken soup tasted.

Throughout the day, with each and every visit from a nurse or doctor, I was constantly asked if I have moved my bowels, or if I  have broken wind. At this time my answers were all in the negative.

After supper I was asked what I wanted for brekky. Options were orange juice and/or yoghurt. I opted for the yoghurt.

3rd April – Operation Day +3

I had a visit from the surgeon.  Nice guy. He introduced himself and I promptly forgot his name. He said he wanted to try me on real food, with more substance. He also said they were planning to remove the catheter… yay!! Also, there was mention of the possibility of me going home, either today or tomorrow. This is all sounding good. All of this was discussed while he tapped, squeezed, and generally fondled my belly. Oh, I didn’t mention the gaggle of other medics, around half a dozen, gathered around the foot of my bed. Any privacy or dignity I had rapidly flew out the window.

I was given some of my own daily blood pressure meds. I’ve not had any since before the op. I was also given a dose of liquid paracetamol.  It is thick in texture, very sweet and it tastes of strawberries, Yuuukkk !!!

I don’t remember lunch but supper was Pea Soup with an awful bread roll.  Think the roll was made without any fat, it fell apart when I tried to cut it so that I could butter it. Tried eating it but it just clagged up my mouth. There was also an egg mayo sandwich. I only ate half as it was on some strange, strongly flavoured, malted bread, and again a weird texture. I tried dunking it in the soup but it didn’t help. Obviously my tastebuds had become confused. Hospital food isn’t really that bad. or is it?

During the day I have been getting an acidic feeling at the back of my throat, like indigestion. I mentioned this to a nurse who got me some Gaviscon. It helped a bit.

4th April – Operation Day +4

Bad news, I’ve been sick!! I was told that if I  am sick twice in the day I will be aspirated i.e. have a tube put up my nose and down into my stomach. This sounds unpleasant, and definitely something to be avoided.

Now they are taking bloods to see if I have an infection, and are concerned about the low volume pee. So, I definitely won’t be going home today.

Supper time arrives and I was feeling sick and requested another anti-sickness pill. Supper was chicken soup but I don’t recall eating it.

Even though I’m just drinking water it seems to be sitting high in my tummy. I’m not feeling comfortable at all.

5th April – Operation Day +5

So, I was sick during the night and as a result I was intubated. That was not a pleasant experience. As the tube goes in it causes you to retch and then once inserted you can feel the tube in your throat every time you swallow. The nurse siphoned out nearly a litre of dark green fluid. It appears that my vomiting is due to Ileus, a not uncommon post operative complication after abdominal surgery. In essence the bowel goes on strike

So now I have two bags hanging on the side of the bed. One for  my catheter and one for my nasal tube. I also have a saline drip attached to the cannula in my right arm. It’s almost like being at the centre of a spiders web.

While the tube is in I am nil by mouth,  just sips of water. So back to my starvation diet.

6th April – Operation Day +6

Due to all my attachments I had to call for the commode last night. And, whilst sat on the commode,  my nasal tube took it upon itself to sneak out and fall on the floor. I buzzed for the nurse who got a fresh tube and installed it which again caused me to retch and vomit. Just wonderful. That was at 03:00.

During the day they disconnected my nasal tube from its bag and told me I could go on free fluids. So I had an ice cold glass of milk, and boy did that hit the spot. The milk was, later,  followed by a cup of hot chocolate.

I was told that I can stay on free fluids but they will reconnect the tube to the bag at night time. Some good news, it was confirmed that Bovril is allowed under the free fluids plan so have asked Gerry to bring some in.

Bad news, the blood tests have shown some negative markers, and so, they think I might have developed an infection. Therefore, as a precaution, I have been moved to my own room. Bonus, I have my own window with a view and can open said window, so plenty of fresh air.

In the early evening I had a lovely video call  from my granddaughter and her kids. Jax, who is autistic, saw my nasal tube and immediately wanted to know what it was. We told him I was in hospital. His response was “go get Grandad, bring him home” Unseen by me, Jax trotted off downstairs, let himself out the front door and was trying to get into his mums car. Their dog, Milo, alerted my daughter and she caught him outside. Cute.

7th April – Operation Day +7

Thankfully the nasal tube has been removed and so, it appears, I’m back on the free fluids diet which is some kind of progress. Lunch today was tomato soup, orange jelly, and vanilla ice cream, bliss!!!

In the afternoon, friends, Eric, Mary, and Mo visited for a couple of hours. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Eric and Mary left after an hour which left Mo to entertain me. Unfortunate for Mo, she was soon treated to the sight of me sliding out of bed clutching the back of my gown, carrying my bag of urine (golden handbag) and shuffling across the corridor to the loo. She took it all in good heart.

Todays supper treat was mushroom soup, more jelly, and ice cream. The soup was, once again, very tasty.

After Mo’s departure and having nothing better to do, I read the ingredient list for the orange jelly. Shock, horror, there is no orange in it. There is carotene, I assume that’s for the colour. I had thought that the flavour was a little odd, now I know why.

8th April – Operation Day +8

Finally, I got a decent night’s sleep, the first since the surgery. Also, my tummy is feeling less bloated which, I guess, means some of the gas used during the operation is beginning to dissipate.

Brekky today was rice crispies, orange juice, toast, and marmalade. Actually, to call it toast was a bit of an exaggeration. I think the slice of bread had seen a photo of a toaster but not actually been in one. Still, after being starved and then only getting liquids to eat this was definitely a step up and in the right direction.

After breakfast I was asked to select my lunch, so I chose Beef Lasagne,  scallop potatoes and gravy. More solids … yes!!!

The lasagne was blooming marvellous although, surprisingly, I had to confirm that it was beef, to me it tasted like the best herby pork sausage. So that has triggered the idea that I will try making a lasagne with italian pork sausage meat, when I get home.

I also had a bit of a revelation today. I had a shower, my first since prior to my surgery, and I was so pleased to get my hair washed. The whole shower thing was a bit weird as I still had the catheter in place and so I had to take my golden handbag along with me. But sitting on the provided stool and just letting the water flow over me was superb.

I also had lots of visitors today, so it was a good job that I had that shower … lol.

Todays supper was Lancashire hotpot with extra mash. The hotpot was very nice but the mash was very dry. And, I  didn’t get the recommended extra gravy I requested. However, I did get two Vanilla ice creams. They really are very nice, smooth and creamy.

Finally, my catheter has been removed but, unfortunately, I haven’t pee’d since. So I was given an ultrasound of the bladder and, apparently, there wasn’t much pee in there so retention isn’t an issue. Bottom line, I have to up my fluid intake, then if I don’t pee they will catheterise me again. And we don’t want that.

With the catheter gone I am now in my jim jams which are much more comfortable than those horrible hospital gowns. And finally, at around 21:00, the dam burst and I managed a pee. This was followed by several others during the night. All were captured so the nurses could check the volume and, apparently, all is good.

9th April – Operation Day +9

Hallelujah, the surgeon has told me that I can go home, shook my hand and wished me well. I asked a nurse what the discharge procedure was. I was told that getting meds from the pharmacy was usually the thing that dictated when I could go, but that I should expect late afternoon or evening.

Shortly after this the ward sister came to see me, told me my meds had been requested and the indications were that they would be available sooner, rather than later. She told me to order lunch just in case it actually was later. In fact meds and lunch arrived together. I was told to have lunch and then the discharge process could be completed.

Wow, lunch was a celebration. Roast turkey breast, roast potatoes, sprouts, carrots, and, wait for it, banana stuffing!!!! Who ever heard of banana stuffing? Certainly not me, and it wasn’t for my palate.  Apparently, it is a carribean thing.

Anyway, food eaten, sister returned with my meds, my discharge papers and one last bit of education. New news to me was that I was going to have to inject myself with an anticoagulant.  She had a syringe and rolled up pad to simulate my tummy. I was directed in the correct use. The two carrier bags of meds contained, primarily, several boxes of preloaded syringes. I am to inject myself twice daily, for thirty days.

So, formalities completed, the porter arrived and I was soon loaded into a wheel chair and propelled to the main exit where my son-in-law was waiting to drive me home.

And there we have it. My hospital experiences around my robotic laparoscopic right side hemicolonectomy.

Bobs Bowel 10 – The Big Day


Finally, the big day has arrived. Today is the day I am to have  my tumour removed.

I’m due at the hospital at 06:30. I have been told that I am the only patient on the list, so I am hoping that means first into theatre. No hanging around.

So my next post will be after my procedure when I am compos mentis again.

It’s funny how it seems to have taken a while to get to this point, but in reality, it has been just over three months, from diagnosis to surgery.

If all goes to plan, I’ll be in theatre for about three hours. Then, after time in recovery, I should be on the ward in time for tea. Although I doubt I’ll be in any fit state to eat and who knows what diet I’m going to be on.

I’ll see you on the other side.

G is for Gastroscopy


A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with NAFLD, or Non Alcoholic Fatty Liver Disease, to give its full name. Or, to put it another way,  Cirrhosis of the liver.

Over the last couple of years, I have been prodded and poked as part of the monitoring process. As  yet, I am not on any medication, but I do get regular lectures about my diet and my lack of exercise.

My Hepatology consultant has wanted to carry out biopsies to prove her diagnosis, but I have resisted. I really don’t fancy the idea of someone pushing a needle into my side.So far she has had to make do with me having regular Fibroscans, blood tests and the occasional gastroscopy.

And so it was, last Tuesday, after two years had elapsed, it was decided that it was time for me to undergo another gastroscopy.

I vaguely recalled that the previous procedure wasn’t actually as unpleasant as everyone had told me. So, when I presented myself at reception in the Queen Alexandra Hospital Endoscopy Department, I was fairly relaxed.

On arrival, I was asked to complete a two page questionnaire regarding my medical history. Given the number of times that I have provided this information, over the last  few weeks, I question the need.

After all, my height and weight are still unchanged, I  still wear glasses, and no, I still don’t have any metalwork inside my body. The drugs I take on a daily basis are also unchanged. You would think, in this technological age, that they could print out my record and get me to confirm that nothing had changed. It would save bit of time.

Anyhow, questionnaire duly completed, it was time for me to head round to where the procedure was due to be carried out. I followed the nurse, like a dutiful hound called to heel. But first, we made a detour into a small office space where the nurse talked me through the questionnaire and I pretty much had to answer all the questions….. Again!!! We could have done the form filling and verbal confirmation all at one go. The only difference was that the nurse decided that I needed to provide a blood sample for my blood sugar,

Oh and I had to sign a consent form and in return I was given a standard hospital bracelet.

And then we walked round to the theatre. Where, once again, I was interrogated. Name, rank, serial number.

Then it was down to business. Sit on the table. Lay back. Open your mouth and hold your breath while we spray this stuff, Xylocaine, to the back of your throat. I had been warned that the spray tasted of rotten bananas. Perhaps not quite that bad, but more like overripe bananas. The spray is required to reduce/stop the natural gag reflex when the endoscope is inserted.

As requested, I rolled over on to my left side. And then the doctor was there with endoscope in hand.

He suggested that I might want to close my eyes as he began his hunt for varices.

But I didn’t want to miss the tv show. Unlike two years ago, I had a screen to look at. Full HD, I reckon. So I watched as the camera began its journey down my throat. The doctor was giving a full running commentary as the camera travelled down. It’s a bit like a train journey where the name of the next destination is announced.

Soon we were in my stomach which, much to my surprise, was empty apart from some fluids. In my head I envisaged the doctor, wearing a miners head lamp and wellies, sploshing around in my gastric juices. Strangely, I could feel the endoscope moving moving under my hand, which was laying on my belly, as the doctor had a good look around. So the gastric train reached the terminus and then began the return journey. Like any good tourist, the doctor paused the extraction to take a couple of photos.

And then we were done. Endoscope extracted and the doctor was saying that all was clear. In medispeak “No endoscopic signs of portal hypertension”, no varices.

After a few minutes I was taken to a discharge waiting room while the doctor was writing up his report. A nurse appeared and presented me with an “After gastroscopy care leaflet” Nothing to eat or drink for an hour. This is to allow the effects of the throat anaesthetic to wear off. Too soon and I could choke. After an hour, just small sips of water and if OK gently increase intake back to normal.

I was also given a copy of the doctors report and informed that I would be called in for a repeat performance in three years. And so I was formally discharged and allowed to go home.

Obviously I am very pleased that nothing sinister was seen and perhaps slightly less pleased at the thought of doing this again. But I am glad that they are continuing to monitor for the adverse symptoms of NAFLD.

Bobs Bowel 8 – Bloods


Whilst I don’t yet have a date for my surgery, the NHS is keeping me on my toes. I recently had to make a trip to the hospital to hand over some more of my blood.

I knew they would want to check to see if the iron infusion had done the trick. So I already had that appointment in my calendar.

However, a telephone call out of the blue informed me that they wanted more blood. Apparently they needed to check my liver function and also to ensure that my blood is clotting correctly.

Over the last few weeks I have had so many needles inserted I beginning to think I’m in an episode of Hancocks Half Hour, namely the Blood Donor.

Bobs Bowel 7 – Outpatients Anaesthetics


Thursday 13th February, and another appointment. Once again, at the Queen Alexandra Hospital. I’ll soon have my own allocated parking space if my visits carry on at this rate.

This time my appointment is with an anaesthetist in the Outpatients department.

My appointment was at 10:00, and right on the button, I was whisked away for some observations. I had my blood pressure, weight, and height measured, again. I was also given an ECG.  And then it was back to the waiting room where I had time to make friends, playing peek-a-boo with a toddler.

After a short while my name was called by the anaesthetist wearing an amazing pair of electric blue shoes.

After the usual pleasantries she revealed that we had met before. Ten years ago, when I went in for the brachytherapy treatment for my prostate. She was the anaesthetist who drew the short straw for my procedure. As a patient I was not very cooperative, not on purpose. With me sat on the table in theatre she attempted to give me an epidural. Three times!! My body just refused to play ball, would not give up my spinal fluid so no further attempts were made.

Once the procedure was underway it was time for me to misbehave again. I unconciously decided to vomit. She unfortunately had to deal with that, and call in Dynarod to suck out my tubes.

I apologised to her as in my head I was to blame, having had rather a lot of cheese as my last meal the night  before the procedure. Nobody told me that they tilted you head down to insert the nuclear seeds. She showed me the copious notes taken following that little episode but she was quite magnanimous. Noting my, as yet undiagnosed, type 2 diabetes which apparently can have the effect of slowing down your stomach process, causing “pooling” which in turn can cause regurgitation.

After reminiscing about old times we got down to the business in hand. We had the inevitable chat about my health in general and specifically focussing on weight, fitness and diet.

I was given a thorough but gentle arse kicking. Likening preparing for the operation to an athlete preparing for the olympics. Apparently the procedure will last about four hours and, although I will be unconcious laid out on the table, for my body it will be akin to running against Usain Bolt. So, as she put it, I need to be in the best possible shape to deal with the procedure but also the fitter I am the faster I will recover.

Exercise and weight loss are the order of the day, supplemented by plenty of practice with my spirometer. She wants me to up my daily walking. That shouldn’t be hard since it is negligible at the moment.

We also talked about diet with regard to my diabetes which can have a negative impact on my post op recovery. And right there is where I get into trouble.

In general the medics extol the benefits of a balanced diet, with plenty of fruit, vegetables, nuts, seeds and so forth. Quite often promoted as the mediterranean diet. Below is a typical chart promoting a balance diet. All stuff that I like.

Due to the location of my tumour which is partially blocking my bowel I have been advised to stay on a low residue diet which conflicts with the idea of a balanced diet. Which in turn also conflicts with a diabetic friendly diet.

What that means is that the only food that I can eat from the green zone is carrots which have been peeled and cooked until they are soft. I can have cucumber but I have to peel it and scoop out the seeds. From the yellow zone I cannot eat any of the wholegrain items. I can have potatoes cooked without their skins and not shown I can have white bread, rice and pasta.

Hang on a bit, actually, for my diabetes I should not be eating any quantity of carbohydrates as this gets turned into sugar, bad for diabetics. So between the diabetes and my tumour everything in the yellow zone is pretty much a no-no.

Things do get a little better when we look at that strange pink zone. I can eat the tinned tuna, chicken, fish, eggs, and mince. Although my tumour says no to fish skin and bones like you might get with sardines and pilchards. Meat is fine but no gristly bits, no bacon rind etc.

And on to the blue zone where I am allowed small amounts of cheese and milk.

And so, I am resigned to eating a mainly protein diet, not quite leaping into the full carnivor diet. Supplemented by squidgy overcooked root vegetables.

As if meal preparation wasn’t already difficult enough.

Ah well, as the anaesthetist says, it is only for a few weeks.

Sad to say, I still don’t have a date for my op.

Bobs Bowel 6 – Iron Intravenous Infusion


Monday 10th February and, as I stated in my last post, although I don’t have a date for the surgery the NHS is hell bent on keeping me busy.

Following my colonoscopy I was informed that I was borderline anaemic and that I would need an Iron Infusion before my surgery.

Today is the day and my appointment was scheduled for 10:00. However, my iron prescription has not arrived.

So, sitting waiting. It is 10:30 !

It’s now 11:10, and after much searching, the nurses, three of them, have managed to cannulate me. Apparently, my veins were playing hide and seek. Not helped by my not having had a drink before arriving in hospital.

I did make a cup of tea, but traffic news indicated problems, so we left early. My tea is still sitting on the kitchen counter.

I am now hooked up to the iron  juice,

and literally, it has just entered my arm.

The infusion should take about an hour.

Job done in just under an hour. I’ve been unplugged, given a cup of coffee and an egg mayo butty. Thirty minutes to check there are no ill effects.

Thirty minutes was up. Took my blood pressure, blood gas, and temperature. All good. The canula was removed, and I was discharged.

It’s now 13:30 and I’m sitting in the hospital cafeteria having a proper coffee. I’m killing some time before heading up to visit a friend of mine who has been a patient here for the last few days.

As for me, I have go and get a blood test in two weeks to see if the iron juice has done its job.

More later ….

Bobs Bowel 5 – Surgery School


Monday 3rd February and the preparations for my impending surgery continue apace. The latest adventure was a two hour class at Surgery School.

I know the NHS is constantly strapped for cash but putting me through a crash course in surgery doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence that my outcome will be positive.

Of course the aim is not for me to carry out DIY surgery. No this session was all about preparing me for surgery and getting me as fit as possible both for the procedure and the recovery period after.

Getting fitter, they say, will help reduce the risks associated with the surgery. Risks such as chest infection, blood clots, kidney problems, wound infection / healing.

To this end the speakers were focusing on exercise and nutrition, the importance of a balanced diet. Unfortunately, my cancer is such that it is partially blocking my bowel. Because of this I am continuing on a low residue diet which means I cannot eat many of the “healthy” foods. No wholegrain breads, no high fibre vegetables such as onions, leeks, cabbages, and cauliflower. Also many of my favourite salad vegetables such as tomatoes, peppers, radishes, celery and baby corn are excluded. In addition to the low residue diet I am also on a course of laxative, Molaxole. To help keep things moving.

Thankfully I am not a smoker as that is definitely a no-no. Apparently smoking can have detrimental effects on ones ability to heal and also the well publicised impact on the respiratory system.

Similarly, drinking alcohol is frowned upon. My consumption in general has reduced dramatically over the last few years, to the point where I might only have a pint of beer or a glass of wine every week or two. Total abstinence won’t be an issue for me.

Preferably they like patients to totally abstain from drinking and smoking on the run up to surgery and offer help to those who need it.

And finally, that brings me to the contraption in the photo below. No it isn’t some kind of sex toy. This beast is an Incentive Spirometer.

Incentive Spirometer

All folks attending surgery school were given one of these. The purpose is to reduce the risk of lung complications following surgery.

Use of the incentive spirometer is part of the iCOUGH process a program implemented by hospitals nationally and internationally. The acronym ICOUGH stands for: Incentive Spirometry, Coughing and deep breathing, Oral care, Understanding, Getting out of bed at least three times daily, and Head-of-bed elevation. The program emphasizes deep breathing exercises to keep lungs healthy and prevent lung problems. Oral care, patient and family education, getting out of bed, and head-of-bed elevation are also important components of the program.

We were instructed to use this device three time per day prior to surgery, and every hour following surgery.

I still don’t have a date for the actual surgery but the medics are focussed on getting me fit and also preventing me from getting bored.

Bobs Bowel 4 – NHS Healthcare


After years of paying National Insurance there is no doubt I am getting my moneys worth from the NHS. After playing the poo sticks game I have had a Colonoscopy, CT Colonography, a session with a colo-rectal consultant and have been booked in to Surgery School.

My home phone seems like it is a hot line to the QA (Queen Alexandra Hospital).

Following the consult I received a text message informing me that a call had been booked by the Care Coordinator !!! No explanation of why. Obviously I could make a pretty goood guess. But I still had to confirm back to them that a call before midday on the 31st was acceptible. I also took the opportunity to ask what the call was about. The response was almost instantaneous. Lisa, the Care Coordinator from my GP Surgery, having seen various letters between the hospital and my GP, was making a courtesy call to see how I was doing with the ongoing investigations.

So Friday 31st arrived and it turns out that Lisa had very little information. I have since seen the letters that my GP was sent. Not very enlightening. So I brought Lisa up to speed, giving my history so far, up to and including my consult on Tuesday.

She in turn told me about the services that were available to me leading up to the surgery and what support they can provide after I return home. This includes councelling, assistance with obtaining benefits etc. After a very pleasant chat we agreed that she would call me on 28th February to see how I was going. Hopefully I will be home recuperating after the operation.

As I said my phone has been very busy. On Friday morning I missed a call from Julie, one of the colo-rectal nurses. She left a message inviting me to call her back. I returned her call and retaliated by leaving her a message in her voicemail. After one round of answer phone tennis she called me.

She asked if I had heard from the anaesthetist, which I had not. She told me that they had spotted that I was borderline anaemic and that I needed to be scheduled in for an iron infusion/transfusion!

Two weeks ago, the doctor that did my colonoscopy had told me about this. I had forgotten but I am glad that the anaesthetist is on the ball. Julie told me that I should probably expect to be contacted early next week, and that if I didn’t hear from them by Wednesday, to call her.

Later that day I received one of those neutral NHS appointment invitations. Informing me that an appointment has been made for 10:00 on Thursday 13th of February. What is this for? Is it for my iron infusion, or just a face to face with the anaesthetist? There is no information about what if anything I need to take with me. Nurse Julie told me I should arrange a lift for when I have the infusion just in case I’m not fit to drive after. There is nothing in this invite to clarify so I will have to call them on Monday.

One thing I will say for the NHS, once you are in the system they do look after you. So far, I have nothing but praise for the staff that I have been involved with. With the one exception, the CT Colonography, they have ensured that my experience thus far has been reasonably pleasant.