It won't cost much - just your voice....
My op seems to have gone well. I am now a little less cartilaginous, and very glad of it.
I had an early start this morning (I'd set my alarm for 2am) - then, after completing my various preparations, I set off at 4, to catch the coach into London. I like getting up early once in a while, and enjoyed watching the sun rise over London as we sped along the flyover to Baker Street.
I arrived at Charing Cross Hospital at half past 7; then, after the usual set of questions relating to my medical history, I was sent straight up to the anaesthetist's room, for an unexpectedly early surgery. By mid-morning, I'd awoken in the recovery room, feeling more groggy than I'd felt the previous two times, but in no real pain. For four hours, I drifted in and out of much-needed sleep while I waited for a bed to become free in one of the wards.
My throat is a little sore, but I've eaten at last. I've also been kept entertained by some lovely guests. The nurses tell me that I should avoid talking over the next few days. This is appropriate, because I currently have no voice. Either this will remedy itself in time, or I shall dissolve into sea foam. I consider the latter possibility to be highly unlikely, but I suppose they have to cover their backs on the consent forms, just in case ;)
Although my throat seems swollen, I can feel that there is no longer a prominence where there once was one. Looking at myself in the mirror, there's something of the post-surgical glow I had three months ago. I'm happy.
I had an early start this morning (I'd set my alarm for 2am) - then, after completing my various preparations, I set off at 4, to catch the coach into London. I like getting up early once in a while, and enjoyed watching the sun rise over London as we sped along the flyover to Baker Street.
I arrived at Charing Cross Hospital at half past 7; then, after the usual set of questions relating to my medical history, I was sent straight up to the anaesthetist's room, for an unexpectedly early surgery. By mid-morning, I'd awoken in the recovery room, feeling more groggy than I'd felt the previous two times, but in no real pain. For four hours, I drifted in and out of much-needed sleep while I waited for a bed to become free in one of the wards.
My throat is a little sore, but I've eaten at last. I've also been kept entertained by some lovely guests. The nurses tell me that I should avoid talking over the next few days. This is appropriate, because I currently have no voice. Either this will remedy itself in time, or I shall dissolve into sea foam. I consider the latter possibility to be highly unlikely, but I suppose they have to cover their backs on the consent forms, just in case ;)
Although my throat seems swollen, I can feel that there is no longer a prominence where there once was one. Looking at myself in the mirror, there's something of the post-surgical glow I had three months ago. I'm happy.