Hernia Repair Diary
As I write, I am in a degree of discomfort thanks to an operation that I had on Wednesday 23rd July. The story began around the beginning of the year and so I’ll set the scene a little.
One morning in the shower I noticed a swelling around my groin that was not associated with any state of arousal. Oh heck I thought and took myself to Mrs Baldwin for a second opinion. She concurred with my findings and that necessitated the first trip to the doctors.
Typically the appointment I was given on the day was with a female doctor; it was bound to happen wasn’t it? Like toast always falling butter side down, a scenario where one has to get one’s wedding tackle out would guarantee a female doctor as opposed to a bloke.
To be fair to the doctor, she didn’t bat an eyelid at 9:00am when I pulled my trousers down – she didn’t laugh either, which I was grateful for.
The diagnosis was “could be a groin strain, could be a hernia – time will tell. Come back and see me in a month”. The month duly passed and once again the doctor got the joy of examining my abdomen.
At that stage the swelling hadn’t really changed and the outlook was “if it’s a hernia it will just get worse and if it’s a groin strain, it will disappear".
Fast forward 3-4 months and my swelling was golf ball sized – apparently classic hernia territory. By this point in time, running had ground to a halt and karate had become uncomfortable enough to need to stop.
A referral to a specialist was requested and given without the need to drop my trousers once more. Said referral resulted in a visit to a consultant at the BMI Three Shires hospital in Northampton a few weeks later (10th July). Despite my NHS referral, the consultation was in a private hospital as indeed it transpired would be the operation. The consultant immediately diagnosed an inguinal hernia that could be repaired via keyhole surgery – repair status necessary but non-urgent.
He then discussed waiting times. I will digress here for a moment because last time I was on an NHS waiting list; I was a teenager and had aged two years before my operation was scheduled.
I was flabbergasted when I was offered the 23rd July - two weeks from referral to operation. How’s that for non-urgent! I’ll admit I then got a bit flustered trying to call my employers to find out if they would support such a limited notice absence from work. Having failed to contact my CEO or the sales director, I took the plunge and said okay. For the record, my employers were supportive and for that I was relieved and grateful.
From a customer service perspective, I am frankly amazed that I could be looked after so well on the NHS. The fact that the NHS is prepared to outsource work to the private sector to reduce waiting lists has meant that my experience has been excellent.
My operation went ahead as planned. I am now at home recuperating and reflecting. This post is my hernia diary.
One morning in the shower I noticed a swelling around my groin that was not associated with any state of arousal. Oh heck I thought and took myself to Mrs Baldwin for a second opinion. She concurred with my findings and that necessitated the first trip to the doctors.
Typically the appointment I was given on the day was with a female doctor; it was bound to happen wasn’t it? Like toast always falling butter side down, a scenario where one has to get one’s wedding tackle out would guarantee a female doctor as opposed to a bloke.
To be fair to the doctor, she didn’t bat an eyelid at 9:00am when I pulled my trousers down – she didn’t laugh either, which I was grateful for.
The diagnosis was “could be a groin strain, could be a hernia – time will tell. Come back and see me in a month”. The month duly passed and once again the doctor got the joy of examining my abdomen.
At that stage the swelling hadn’t really changed and the outlook was “if it’s a hernia it will just get worse and if it’s a groin strain, it will disappear".
Fast forward 3-4 months and my swelling was golf ball sized – apparently classic hernia territory. By this point in time, running had ground to a halt and karate had become uncomfortable enough to need to stop.
A referral to a specialist was requested and given without the need to drop my trousers once more. Said referral resulted in a visit to a consultant at the BMI Three Shires hospital in Northampton a few weeks later (10th July). Despite my NHS referral, the consultation was in a private hospital as indeed it transpired would be the operation. The consultant immediately diagnosed an inguinal hernia that could be repaired via keyhole surgery – repair status necessary but non-urgent.
He then discussed waiting times. I will digress here for a moment because last time I was on an NHS waiting list; I was a teenager and had aged two years before my operation was scheduled.
I was flabbergasted when I was offered the 23rd July - two weeks from referral to operation. How’s that for non-urgent! I’ll admit I then got a bit flustered trying to call my employers to find out if they would support such a limited notice absence from work. Having failed to contact my CEO or the sales director, I took the plunge and said okay. For the record, my employers were supportive and for that I was relieved and grateful.
From a customer service perspective, I am frankly amazed that I could be looked after so well on the NHS. The fact that the NHS is prepared to outsource work to the private sector to reduce waiting lists has meant that my experience has been excellent.
My operation went ahead as planned. I am now at home recuperating and reflecting. This post is my hernia diary.
Day 0 – Operation Hernia Fix
After arriving at hospital and being shown to my room, the countdown to the operation began. Pre op protocol involved the surgeon writing on my stomach with a marker pen; an injection being put into the same area; me being given an electric razor to shave my abdomen (not that much of an issue, my only concern being that I bet it grows back grey); surgical knee high stockings to wear (not a good look if I am honest).
Eventually (a little after 4pm), I was taken to the operating theatre en-route to which the nurse joked with me that she hoped she’d got the right one because there was a risk I could come out with a boob job if I ended up in the wrong theatre.
The anaesthetic was given in two parts one which made things a bit floaty; the second part which turned me out like a light.
The next thing I knew I was coming around from the anaesthetic and I have to say that was wonderful, like being drunk but without the hangover or the room spinning – stringing coherent sentences together required real effort and I kept nodding off. It reminded me of my mate Chris Williams’ stag do in Manchester more than a decade ago now - I was struggling to speak by the end of that night and fell asleep at the table in the curry house.
Once back in my room I was able to sleep off the remaining drugs and was then fed and watered. Mrs B. and Little Miss B. were able to take me home a little after 9pm.
That night I slept on my own in the spare room.
After arriving at hospital and being shown to my room, the countdown to the operation began. Pre op protocol involved the surgeon writing on my stomach with a marker pen; an injection being put into the same area; me being given an electric razor to shave my abdomen (not that much of an issue, my only concern being that I bet it grows back grey); surgical knee high stockings to wear (not a good look if I am honest).
Eventually (a little after 4pm), I was taken to the operating theatre en-route to which the nurse joked with me that she hoped she’d got the right one because there was a risk I could come out with a boob job if I ended up in the wrong theatre.
The anaesthetic was given in two parts one which made things a bit floaty; the second part which turned me out like a light.
The next thing I knew I was coming around from the anaesthetic and I have to say that was wonderful, like being drunk but without the hangover or the room spinning – stringing coherent sentences together required real effort and I kept nodding off. It reminded me of my mate Chris Williams’ stag do in Manchester more than a decade ago now - I was struggling to speak by the end of that night and fell asleep at the table in the curry house.
Once back in my room I was able to sleep off the remaining drugs and was then fed and watered. Mrs B. and Little Miss B. were able to take me home a little after 9pm.
That night I slept on my own in the spare room.
A operational souvenir
Day 1 - post op 24/07/14
Today I am feeling rather sore; I have to think about every move before I make it, take it slowly and take care not to hurt myself. Getting older is a depressing thing really, hernias are often an age related condition, a sign the body is getting weaker - I have been up and moving but I am shuffling around like an old man. Loose fitting clothes are essential. Painkillers have been consumed every four hours all day. Most disconcerting is that my scrotum and the right side of my penis are turning purple. It’s a good thing the RMO warned me about this because I’d be more freaked out otherwise.
One funny thing, this morning I found I’d still got an element of hospital monitoring gear stuck to my chest; a bit like a third nipple - see picture. How the hell had I not noticed that before?
Today I am feeling rather sore; I have to think about every move before I make it, take it slowly and take care not to hurt myself. Getting older is a depressing thing really, hernias are often an age related condition, a sign the body is getting weaker - I have been up and moving but I am shuffling around like an old man. Loose fitting clothes are essential. Painkillers have been consumed every four hours all day. Most disconcerting is that my scrotum and the right side of my penis are turning purple. It’s a good thing the RMO warned me about this because I’d be more freaked out otherwise.
One funny thing, this morning I found I’d still got an element of hospital monitoring gear stuck to my chest; a bit like a third nipple - see picture. How the hell had I not noticed that before?
Day 2 – post op 25/07/14
Today my gentleman’s area is very dark purple indeed (was tempted to share a photo but decided not to for the sake of decency); when fellas talk about their plums, seriously mine are the colour to match the fruit. I am so glad that I have been signed off work and don’t need to be trussed up in a suit – blimey that would be uncomfortable. Moving around is a little easier today which is good because the paperwork I have been given states that exercise is important. Walking pace is slow, stance is bandy! The hardest thing in movement terms is getting up from the horizontal. Painkillers still being consumed every four hours; t-shirt is baggy and shorts are just relying on the zip to stay up (top button undone).
Today my gentleman’s area is very dark purple indeed (was tempted to share a photo but decided not to for the sake of decency); when fellas talk about their plums, seriously mine are the colour to match the fruit. I am so glad that I have been signed off work and don’t need to be trussed up in a suit – blimey that would be uncomfortable. Moving around is a little easier today which is good because the paperwork I have been given states that exercise is important. Walking pace is slow, stance is bandy! The hardest thing in movement terms is getting up from the horizontal. Painkillers still being consumed every four hours; t-shirt is baggy and shorts are just relying on the zip to stay up (top button undone).
Day 3 - post op 26/07/14
Following on from the start of my hernia repair diary, a number of people have got in touch to express their sympathies and wish me a speedy recovery. No one has so far complained about the relatively graphic account of my sufferings but I guess someone will eventually find the nether region stuff too much to take. If you are squeamish, you might want to stop here because I am going to write about my wedding tackle again.
Today my scrotum looks like a red cabbage – seriously I kid you not! The colour is spot on; shape is about right, one big round swelling instead of two defined gonads; the texture is almost right (look at a hard cabbage and you’ll get my drift); thank God that the size/weight isn’t comparable because then I’d be wailing. It’s almost as if excess fluid gathered in the hernia region and has drained into my bollocks.
The worse bit though was the excruciating itchiness that initially struck at around 2pm. As soon as I rubbed the affected area it was like an explosion of sensation (think sunburn/skin-peeling itch on your back that has you writhing on the floor trying to rub it all at once). When my kids start itching, I always tell them to stop because they’ll make it worse; today I was really, really struggling to follow my own advice.
Sitting on my hands didn’t help and in the end I resorted to sitting on an ice pack, popping some painkillers and taking some anti-histamine. It would be miserable if it wasn’t hilarious. On the bright side, this kind of experience doesn’t leave me short of blogging type content.
The small belly incisions (the entry points for the keyhole equipment) appear to be healing okay, no bleeding and no weeping so far; the steristrip dressings are holding. Some previously dark areas of bruising are now yellowing down. All this is good news.
Following on from the start of my hernia repair diary, a number of people have got in touch to express their sympathies and wish me a speedy recovery. No one has so far complained about the relatively graphic account of my sufferings but I guess someone will eventually find the nether region stuff too much to take. If you are squeamish, you might want to stop here because I am going to write about my wedding tackle again.
Today my scrotum looks like a red cabbage – seriously I kid you not! The colour is spot on; shape is about right, one big round swelling instead of two defined gonads; the texture is almost right (look at a hard cabbage and you’ll get my drift); thank God that the size/weight isn’t comparable because then I’d be wailing. It’s almost as if excess fluid gathered in the hernia region and has drained into my bollocks.
The worse bit though was the excruciating itchiness that initially struck at around 2pm. As soon as I rubbed the affected area it was like an explosion of sensation (think sunburn/skin-peeling itch on your back that has you writhing on the floor trying to rub it all at once). When my kids start itching, I always tell them to stop because they’ll make it worse; today I was really, really struggling to follow my own advice.
Sitting on my hands didn’t help and in the end I resorted to sitting on an ice pack, popping some painkillers and taking some anti-histamine. It would be miserable if it wasn’t hilarious. On the bright side, this kind of experience doesn’t leave me short of blogging type content.
The small belly incisions (the entry points for the keyhole equipment) appear to be healing okay, no bleeding and no weeping so far; the steristrip dressings are holding. Some previously dark areas of bruising are now yellowing down. All this is good news.
Day 4 - post op 27/07/14
Today has been a lot more comfortable than yesterday; whilst I am still significantly discoloured around the gentlemen’s area, the scrotal swelling has gone down markedly. There were still some bouts of itchiness today but much more manageable than yesterday. The bruising around the instrument entry points on my stomach is coming out; a lot more yellow today which is good.
For the first time, I am feeling like the worst is now behind me.
Amusingly, the thing I am looking forward to the most is being able to do up my trousers. At the moment the top button sits right on top of a wound so that makes it impossible. My shorts have been a half mast since Thursday and always at risk of falling down. Nobody has seen my arse yet but there’s still time!
Another restriction I face is not being able to drive. I was strongly advised not to do that because of the risks associated with emergency stops. More obvious issues come from the seat belt – its line runs across the wounds on my stomach; that means I can’t do it up and be comfortable. Not having the freedom to jump in my car and run to the shops is more frustrating than I expected.
Today has been a lot more comfortable than yesterday; whilst I am still significantly discoloured around the gentlemen’s area, the scrotal swelling has gone down markedly. There were still some bouts of itchiness today but much more manageable than yesterday. The bruising around the instrument entry points on my stomach is coming out; a lot more yellow today which is good.
For the first time, I am feeling like the worst is now behind me.
Amusingly, the thing I am looking forward to the most is being able to do up my trousers. At the moment the top button sits right on top of a wound so that makes it impossible. My shorts have been a half mast since Thursday and always at risk of falling down. Nobody has seen my arse yet but there’s still time!
Another restriction I face is not being able to drive. I was strongly advised not to do that because of the risks associated with emergency stops. More obvious issues come from the seat belt – its line runs across the wounds on my stomach; that means I can’t do it up and be comfortable. Not having the freedom to jump in my car and run to the shops is more frustrating than I expected.
Day 5 - post op 28/07/14
Not much to report from today – spent most of it hunched over my laptop working; sitting down all day didn’t cause me any significant discomfort, which is a good thing.
From now on, updates are going to be less frequent than daily. To be fair, a daily update would probably start getting dull anyway; the improvements being less copy worthy than the challenges.
The blokey bits are still purple; I’ll be delighted to report back when they have returned to pink.
Not much to report from today – spent most of it hunched over my laptop working; sitting down all day didn’t cause me any significant discomfort, which is a good thing.
From now on, updates are going to be less frequent than daily. To be fair, a daily update would probably start getting dull anyway; the improvements being less copy worthy than the challenges.
The blokey bits are still purple; I’ll be delighted to report back when they have returned to pink.
Day 9 - post op 01/08/14
I have been at home now for nine days since the operation and I am confident that I am repairing well. Having written about my trials and tribulations (and at times rather graphically) it is amusing when I catch up with readers in person or over the phone. They feel duty bound to ask me how I am doing and the conversation inevitably goes like this:
”How are your … well your er, … well you know, your er … bits"? Then by way of follow-up “er ... what colour are they now?”
For those I see in person, the words are accompanied by some downward nodding for emphasis.
Well to all those more embarrassed to ask than I was to write about the topic; the bits in question are gradually returning to their more normal pink colour.
So far only one person has actually requested a photograph! Most have been rather more squeamish.
I go back to work towards the end of next week and I have to admit that I am rather looking forward to it. I have been working from home anyway but I have missed the office banter and the company of others.
I watched Embarrassing Bodies last night and I have to state that the extent of my suffering has been nothing like as bad as some of the poor souls on the programme. And that’s a good way to reflect on post operational recovery – no matter how bad you feel at any given point; count your blessings because there will always be others out there having a much worse time. A hernia is a much better proposition than a pilonidal sinus.
I have been at home now for nine days since the operation and I am confident that I am repairing well. Having written about my trials and tribulations (and at times rather graphically) it is amusing when I catch up with readers in person or over the phone. They feel duty bound to ask me how I am doing and the conversation inevitably goes like this:
”How are your … well your er, … well you know, your er … bits"? Then by way of follow-up “er ... what colour are they now?”
For those I see in person, the words are accompanied by some downward nodding for emphasis.
Well to all those more embarrassed to ask than I was to write about the topic; the bits in question are gradually returning to their more normal pink colour.
So far only one person has actually requested a photograph! Most have been rather more squeamish.
I go back to work towards the end of next week and I have to admit that I am rather looking forward to it. I have been working from home anyway but I have missed the office banter and the company of others.
I watched Embarrassing Bodies last night and I have to state that the extent of my suffering has been nothing like as bad as some of the poor souls on the programme. And that’s a good way to reflect on post operational recovery – no matter how bad you feel at any given point; count your blessings because there will always be others out there having a much worse time. A hernia is a much better proposition than a pilonidal sinus.
8th September
This is the final article update because the surgeon who operated on me formally discharged me from his care this afternoon. My recovery is complete, was text book perfect and life can now get completely back to normal - time to dust off my running shoes and iron my gi.
To be fair, since the last update I spent a week at work, had a two week break in Cornwall followed by another week in the office. Life couldn’t feel more ‘back to normal’ than it does already.
This is the final article update because the surgeon who operated on me formally discharged me from his care this afternoon. My recovery is complete, was text book perfect and life can now get completely back to normal - time to dust off my running shoes and iron my gi.
To be fair, since the last update I spent a week at work, had a two week break in Cornwall followed by another week in the office. Life couldn’t feel more ‘back to normal’ than it does already.
