December 22, 2010
Pre-surgery
I’d be honest to admit. I couldn’t sleep the night before the surgery. Not because I was worried about the surgery, but I was starting to run a slight fever. Took my temperature every hour and it hasn’t changed. 37.2 degrees. Not a good sign. I don’t know if the surgery will be postponed again but I need to do whatever it takes to ensure I go through with the surgery. My mum also could not sleep the night before, she stayed up late watching TVB drama so when my alarm went off at 520am, I was surprised she was still sleeping. She had planned to make breakfast for Dad so looks like she overslept. Woke her up, got dressed and we were out in a jiffy.
The ride to SGH was smooth, at 6am, there is hardly any traffic. We arranged for Dad to drop us off, there is no need for him to accompany us this time round. Too stressful. The last thing I want is to have to deal with his nagging now. We were too early so we waited outside the Admissions office.
This time round, we are more familiar with the processes. The docs were not in yet so nurses are conducting the basic checks first before docs do a more detailed examination after we have changed into “surgery uniform”. My blood pressure was 136/90, I looked at it…DIE…isn’t it pre-hypertension levels???? The nurse told me to calm down and she made me take in deep breaths. At one stage she used one of her hand and raise it up and down and ask me to follow her hand and breathe in…and breathe out….according to nurse, such readings is considered normal at pre-admission checks as many patients are nervous. Very interesting.
Then I was shown to a room where I had to change out all my clothes into the surgery gown. No underwear allowed, only paper underwear and nothing above. But the surgery gown is quite well designed, we have to wear a light blue gown that is fastened behind with strings and another long coat over so you can’t check out the person’s chest. hehehe. Then I had to pass my shoes and clothes over to mum and wore ugly oversized slippers which the nurse passed to me.
I was then directed back to one of the rooms where the medical officer took my temperature. 37.9 degrees. WTF…AGAIN!!!!!! I swear I will not be sent home again. I told the doc that all the changing and walking around makes me hot. I was sent out to the waiting area for 10mins. I took out a booklet and started fanning myself. I was attracting attention, cos I was probably the only idiot fanning herself while in full surgery uniform with ugly slippers sitting in the waiting area filled with people and their relatives in normal clothes waiting for their turn to be called.
10mins later, I was called in again. Temp checked. 37 degrees. PHEW. Doc gave me the go ahead and mum and I were ushered to the waiting area inside. We now have to wait for an ENT doc to go through the surgery risks with me and get me to sign a form before I can be brought to the operating theatre. And so, we waited. One by one, people dressed in surgical uniforms are being called up and led away into a lift at the side. Their loved ones would hug them, wish them well and then exit by another door.
The ENT doc then highlighted the risks again, this time, in front of mum. My vocal cords may be affected, and I may need temporary calcium replacement or if the parathyroid glands are removed, then I’ll be on calcium replacement for life. Not very nice to keep reminding you, but I guess they didn’t want to be blamed if things go wrong. Its surgery afterall. So, after acknowledging the risks, I signed the form.
A nurse then brought me to the lift and as the cold hard steel door closes, I waved my mum goodbye. One of the most painful goodbye in my life.
I was brought to 2nd level where the “trolley bed” awaits me. At this point, I have to say, I have been asked to say my name and my I/C number like for the 1 millionth time!!!! From nurses to doctors, they keep checking that you are the right person. They were so scared of sending the wrong person for the wrong surgery.
The surgery
Once I am on the trolley bed, I have no control anymore. I can’t even run if I decide to change my mind. So I laid on the bed and waited for the attendant to push me to the operating theatre. Exactly like in those medical dramas, I am being wheeled around and I can only look up towards the ceiling lights. Only lacking at that point was some cute guy holding my hand and running along with the trolley while I am being pushed into the theatre. hahaahaa.
I was pushed into Operating theatre 6, there were 2 nurses and 1 assisting anesthesiologist at the area just before the operating theatre. Its where they insert the plug into my hand so the drugs can be fed intravenously and once again check my medical history. The assisting anesthesiologist then asked my I/C number one last time and she exclaimed ” sorry ah, I always tell my patients that they will be asked to verify their name and I/C many times so you just have to bear with it.” I asked her “hey doc, what happens if the patient has alzheimer’s /dementia???..how do you guys verify then?” she laughed. hahahaa. Then I joked about how this is something the doctor shows like House never showed you. She laughed again. Then, I was pushed into the theatre. The last time I saw those bright operating theatre lights was when I was 4. According to my mum, I needed to remove my teeth..but I was screaming so badly that the dentists gassed me and I passed out and they went on to remove the teeth. In my memory, till this day, I still remember seeing those bright lights and the mask coming towards me. I looked around the theatre while lying down, there are 3 sets of lights in various directions.

Those surgical lights..pic taken from keckler medical co. inc website
Then my doc entered the operating theatre. I was very glad to see him. He said ” Just wanted to let you know, we have cancelled our leave (he and his partnering anesthesiologist) and rescheduled your surgery so that we can do it today and you can get treated, so don’t worry” FWAH. I never felt more grateful to 2 men who placed me in a higher priority than their own personal commitments.
While my doc prepared for the surgery, his partnering anesthesiologist, came over and spoke to me. Anesthesiologist said ” hey, really glad we are going ahead with this today, blar blar blar” He told me he is currently doing a study on using a new method and tubing for the anesthetic which will reduce the pain effects of a patient. Traditionally, general anesthetic involves pushing a tube into the patient’s mouth, down the throat and into the trachea to facilitate breathing. However, its also this tube that causes a lot of pain after the surgery for people. I asked him how long has he been studying this method, he said he has been trying it out for 12 years. I said “go ahead, cos its hard getting people on a study, pain is pain afterall” He laughed and said “no, of course not, we will try to minimize it” Anyway, lying on the operating table, I signed myself away to be part of a new method/tubing anesthetic study. I guess to me, it doesn’t matter anymore, if I can be of help, why not? Considering it was such a pain in the ass when I was trying to get people to participate in my own study during the Masters course.
The next thing I knew, they placed the oxygen mask over me and then I saw the assisting anesthesiologist inject some liquid into the plug attached to my left hand. I was told to take in deep breaths……I only have one wish, I do not wish to wake up during the surgery.
And I had probably gone off the edge soon after that.
Post-surgery
I heard the nurse calling my name and they were gently waking me up. I was told to say “one, two, three” probably to test the vocal cords. I whispered with a raspy voice. I also overheard them saying something like “total thyroidectomy”.. ah, so everything did get removed afterall. Then, 30 secs later, the pain hit me with a wham. I felt like I have just been hit by a train across the neck. The nurses then asked me to state my pain level from a scale of 0-10. I told them 7. But they said they had already given me 2 doses of morphine so they will give me panadol. Hokay…anything to reduce the wham feeling. And they left me on the trolley bed. I don’t know how much time passed but I knew I need to do something about the pain. I started to take deep breaths in, the Yoga way. Amazingly, the pain reduced slightly. And then, I decided to tune out of the pain. I closed my eyes and allowed the memories of Sydney to flood my brain. Started with memories of packing for the trip, the plane ride to Sydney, mardi gras, cooking, gatherings, every memory came flooding back. These are happy memories, so maybe I released endorphins..but it worked. The pain level reduced further. By the time I popped 2 panadols down, the pain was manageable.
Getting to the ward
Before I know it, they were pushing the trolley bed and I was hit with the humid air. I was sweating profusely. By the time they transferred me to the bed, I was very glad I had chosen the B1 ward which is fully air-conditioned. The nurses then proceeded to strip me and change me into the ugly peachy looking pajamas with draw-string pants. I’ve always wondered if people wear underwear beneath those hospital PJs. I got my answer. My dear friends, we all go commando below and we are free above. Very “free”. The nurses then attached the drip to keep me hydrated. And I was handed a paper bag. About 30mins later, a nurse came to me and started briefing me on the facilities of the ward and how to call for help. I was pretty irritated but I guess they needed to do their job.They even switched on the TV and tuned the channel to HBO. But my eyes couldn’t even focus, moreover watch HBO.
De-anesthesizing
As I lay on the bed, with a neck that felt like it had been whammed by a train, I realized I had 2 drainage tubes attached to both sides of the neck which drains blood and fluid down to 2 bottles. Felt like some monster from Japanese Anime. I was also instructed not to get off bed so I laid on bed, sweating profusely even though room was air-conditioned and attempted to vomit. I tried and tried. I could only try to vomit but there was nothing. Only air. Not even liquid. Plus with a train-wrecked throat, vomiting is an art. I don’t know how much time passed but I was still pukey, then a nurse came over and showed me a menu. She wanted me to decide what type of meals do I want to order for my brekkie, lunch and dinner tomorrow. I was close to slapping her because I was in such a terrible state.
I controlled myself and simply told the nurse soft diet. And I was left to puke my heart out.
De-liquidizing
Its my own vocabulary. See, they kept dripping me but surely the water needs to go somewhere. Before I know it, I needed to pee. But the question is, how does one pee in bed? I pressed the button and called for help. The device that saved me — the bed pan. But the bigger question is how to do it? I was told to raise the butt (which I still can) and they placed pan beneath which means you kinda sit on it. And I realized, I’m in the missionary position. Then, I was told to start releasing. Again, its an art. Its against gravity, the whole setting is so wrong and I was worried if it would accidently leak and wet the bed. But it was ok, due to the way I was positioned, whatever human liquids released will flow down the butt cheeks down onto the pan. Then came another enlightening moment. The very kind nurse said, ” can i get you to spread your legs while I wipe for you”. And so, she did. Cleaned down under very well and then got me to raise the butt and she cleaned the butt cheeks too. It has been an eye-opening experience. Imagine bedridden patients, imagine doing this day after day.
And I went back to feeling pukey.
Rest of the night:
They served dinner, it was pork porridge and apple cinnamon tart. By now the pukey effects were wearing off and I took a few spoonfuls of the porridge. I’ve spent the past 1 month avoiding pork and yet the first meal I took after surgery was pork porridge. I was thinking to myself, what a joke. But the apple cinnamon tart helped to ease the pukey effects, in fact, it was quite tasty. Then, mum and brother arrived. I must have looked like crap, cos I had the ugly wound, puffy face, 2 drainage tubes and 2 drainage bottles and the oxygen tube attached to my nose as my oxygen intake was low. But I guessed me eating a few spoonfuls of pork porridge set my mum at ease. I could speak with a raspy voice, so I talked. I forgot the details of the conversation. But I realized one thing, though the throat hurt, it was at the base where the thyroid is, I did not suffer from any after effects of the anesthetic tubing. Even my dad was surprised cos during his time, it was wayyyy too painful. I guess I did sign myself towards a study that helped manage the pain.
Again, I had no concept of time, I only knew people left and I slept. Throughout the night, nurses popped by and took my blood. A lot of it. 2 tubes each time and I was donating blood every 6 hours.
First Day and I no longer have my thyroid but more importantly, I made it through alive.