Profiles

Other advice such as wiggling my toes to avoid the danger of DVT; dropping my shoulders and taking deep breaths to avoid holding my body stiff against the pain of the incision, I hoped never to have to practice.

See my Consultant for the first time, the last one was a locum, we agree that for my condition the removal of the womb only is the best course of action.

I am relieved as this means I keep my ovaries and do not have to worry about HRT.

I walk out of the hospital feeling much more positive about the whole thing.

The day of the operation

I ring the Hospital at 8.00 am to check for availability of a bed. Central Admissions check, pause, yes there is a bed.

I have had my last cup of tea, before 7.00am and am now “nil by mouth”.

Joan at work on the BBC Bus

My bag weighs a ton, filled with suggestions and gifts from friends. These include sweets to suck to ward off sickness post op, an eye mask to aid sleeping while lights are on, reading and writing materials.

I stopped taking advice after someone suggested earplugs and I afterwards I couldn’t lose the thought of my swallowing one by accident.

I arrive on the ward at 10.30am to find that there are still no beds available.

I relax in the waiting room and help the staff with friendly suggestions as to how to erect their synthetic Christmas tree.

Still no bed, so blood pressure checks are carried out in the waiting area. Decide now is good time to notify staff nurse of unusual request.

I have brought my digital camera and would like a photo of my redundant womb, having it taken in situ would be in bad taste.

I steal a glance at the Nurses station, do I see medical men tittering, I think I may have.

This is no time for paranoia. I am making personal history of medical condition must not be deflected on my mission to reveal all.

Admitted to the ward

Time for bed , meet Registrar, Anaesthetist and someone who takes a blood sample.

A medical student takes a full history for practice, am guinea pig, and in return he will take photos of womb.

Put on long white stockings helped by lovely nurse.

Suddenly everything in big rush and I am transported in bed to theatre. I am now gabbling questions to keep mind off what is going to happen.

I am pushed into small room which reminds me of kind of air lock found on space ships.

Patches are slapped on my chest, a needle is pushed into my arm and I see a small forest of blue gowned people. This is where the action is ...

And then, I wake up

I am gasping for air and in a lot of pain. I remember my instructions, drop shoulders wriggle toes, breathe deeply.

But I can’t get enough oxygen and my body is beginning to shake, I see the blue gowned creature beside my head “one member of staff good, lots of staff bad” I think …

I am comfortable in lovely bed on ward, my stockings are squeezing my legs rhythmically, I am self administering morphine, life is good.

I quickly learn how long to leave before giving myself another dose, I want this to go and on.

An alarm goes off behind my head, a nurse appears with keys to check my supply, it hasn’t run out thank god.

I discover that a womb isn’t needed to have sexual fantasies, only morphine.