Hey, has anyone out there got a time machine? I would really like to go back to 8a.m. on the morning of the 1st January this year and start all over again.
Now that is not like me at all ‘cos I have always been a tomorrow person and I hope that tomorrow I will be back to being that again but those who have been following my scribblings will know that all has not been well. The hand is doing really well now and when last I wrote I was getting over the removal of the gall bladder. I was getting over the effects of that operation when….
We did ten radio/media interviews on the morning and I went into London to do a TV show which over-ran by one and half hours. Then we went to see the fabulous Hans Klok show, The Houdini Experience. Hans had been round our house and we had gone through a lot of the items, the language (Hans is Dutch), some of the staging, but this was the first time I had seen the show live. It was really good but in the interval I started to get twinges, hung onto the end and congratulated Hans and his team but headed for home and by now the pain was worse.
Of course the road agency knew this and closed off the M4 so it took forever to get home and by then I was in agony. Exactly the same pain was back again. I couldn’t believe it. The bladder was gone, what could this be? All I know is that I was exhausted and I was in pain. Debbie made the calls and once again our house became the ambulance parking spot. The paramedics stuffed me into a chair and carried me downstairs, loaded me in and set off for the hospital. By now I am sure they were thinking that I was some kind of training exercise on a weekly basis.
All the same procedure as before… I think I could probably get a job in a hospital now… I know where to stick the needles, put the tubes in, stuff the oxygen pipes up the hooter, inject the morphine, blood pressure tests, suck the blood out….. They came to the conclusion that when the gall bladder was removed one little stone decided to hide out in a backwater and that was creating the pain.
“We’ll find out whereabouts it is hiding, and then go down your throat with a camera and set of tools to move it into a place where it can eject itself.” I had a mental picture of a gremlin stone, desperately hanging onto the sides of one of my tubes determined not to let go.
The drugs eased the pain and I was told that I would have to go through an MRI scanner to find out where it was. I know quite a bit about them because when years ago I helped to raise a lot of money to buy a couple of these HUGE electromagnetic tubes. On that occasion I got to meet the genius who invented them.
On the other hand I used to suffer from claustrophobia and I didn’t want it to come back so I asked them to knock me out whilst they pushed me through the scanner. OK, it’s my fault. I didn’t understand the difference between sedate (which is supposed to relax you) and an anaesthetic which knocks you out.
So there I am, in the holding area before being launched into the tube, and a doctor came in with one and half little blue pills. I warned him that if these were Viagra they might not be able to get me into the tube. Ignoring me he said that in 20 minutes I would be completely relaxed. I wasn’t. I was knocking out the jokes and felt no difference.
He gave me another one and half little blue pills. 20 minutes later he gave me another three. Unbelievable I know but 20 minutes later he kind of gave up and came into the room with a little pot with, wait for it, another TEN of these pills saying that now I really would feel a difference.
I didn’t so they brought in an anaesthetist to knock me out. Apparently Debbie eventually came home and then the next morning phoned in to find out how I was. They kept telling her I was still asleep and I can only imagine the panic in her when they kept saying I was still in recovery.
I was. I was recovering from all the nights of lost sleep. I slept for 36 hours and by the time I woke up they had done everything they wanted to do and I came home.
Sure, I felt weakened but I have always been a fairly active guy and the hardest part was making myself do nothing. Debbie and my management cancelled the tour shows that I had lined up and I HATED that but they were being wiser than I was.
Yesterday I started to feel better and today I am feeling ready to take on the stage show again. I’ll be able to fulfill the two dates I have this weekend. The missed shows are being re-scheduled. The only problem is that by doing nothing I am finding it very difficult to sleep at night. I am simply not tired.
Where’s that anaesthetist when I need him?