life in the darkness

Good evening, I thought it was time to document the experience I had with the calcium removal.

The day of the 14th of March came. I got out of bed at 4 AM, had something to eat, then waited for my transport and HCA to pick me up. We finally arrived at the airport for 6 AM or there abouts. A short while later, we were boarding the plane for Liverpool. Half an hour later, we arrived at the airport, waiting for my taxi to the Royal Liverpool University hospital for the operation.

After about 20 minutes, the ECLO, eye clinic liaison officer, arrived to show me around the theatre admitions unit, TAU. Once that was complete and I’d met the staff, we then went to the ward, 6B, where I’d be staying overnight, to recover from the anaesthesia and to be monitored.

Finally, the operation came. The anaesthetist was very kind and let me feel all the tools they were going to use to intubate me. The boujie and the endotracheal tube, that would be going into my trachea to monitor my breathing. ‘ I finally arrived in theatre, after being spoken too by one of the surgens, Matteo, who was very kind. Ross, the anaesthetist and a nurse, prepared to anaesthetise me. The canular was put in and the proprofol given. Within about 30 seconds, as he predicted, I was out and the operation could begin.

I finally came round in recovery. I was then informed that my friends had arrived to see me once I was okay and out of recovery. That was going to take a long time. I suddenly felt the pain! Pain that I’d never felt before! A strong pain in my eyes, making both of them squeeze shut, so hard I couldn’t open them. I couldn’t concentrate on the words being said by people around me. Couldn’t tell where I was. Couldn’t ‘feel anything else, but the pain in my head, pain in my eyes and my nose! Again, I couldn’t open my eyes. I suddenly felt the tears start to come out of my eyes, but sideways. Like they were struggling to come out. I don’t normally cry out in pain, but this time I did. I couldn’t communicate in verbal form, but kept trying to press my eyes! Trying to tell them to give me something to stop the spasms. Stop them squeezing shut so hard that I couldn’t focus on surroundings or people, or even the ability to speak. The doctors and anaesthetists were trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t responde, except to cry out like a baby. I tried to say that my eyes can’t open. Except it came out something like: They’re shut. Squeezing shut. I can’t… Open… Then it trailed away.

The on-call doctor decided to proscribe morphine. And codine. I was worried at first that it would make me sick, as I’d never had it before. Waiting for the nausea to start, I braced myself, but fortunately, it didn’t come. When I was finally stable and the pain subsided enough to be able to communicate in full sentences once more, I was brought down to the ward. At the same time, I was anxious, as my friends who I go to visit had been kept waiting, because of my severe pain! I was wheeled up to the ward on my bed and brought into the room. Yes, I had my own room, with an ensuite. Unlike our local hospital. It was 5 star luxury compared to our hospital.

I was introduced to everyone on the ward and shown where my table was and finally, I was able to see my friend, Helen. She came with a lot of gifts from everyone, including chocolates, molteezers, troughals and heros. I was also given a small rosary, by my friend Beryl. I didn’t know that would be needed later in the night, when the pain would return, as severe as it was in recovery. Overnight, I had to keep buzzing for help. The pain came back, just as bad as it was in recovery and IV, Intravenous paracetamol was not cutting it! Neither was codine. It was trips too and from my room, by the lovely nurses and HCAs who took care of me throughout my stay, that helped. The one who held my hand and tried to wipe the tears coming out sideways from my eyes. The one who stopped me trying to press into my eyes with my hands. The one who said: Do you believe in God, to which I responded, yes. She then gave me my rosary from off the table, saying: He will help you get better. Just be brave! The next day, after a very rough and exhausting night, the HCA on the morning shift came in to see me. She was surprised at the state I was in. They phoned ahead to the st Pauls ED and explained I was in severe pain again, and could they do something about it.

I was meant to be discharged that day, but it was decided by the on-call ophthalmologist, who was one of the surgeons I had, that I stay in another night to be kept comfortable with the pain management. Eventually, I was able to go home on the saturday, however I was still in pain and my bands around my corneas, had both come out, due to the spasm of my eyes. eventually, slowly, day by day, I am starting to come down off the pain meds. I’ve just come off the oromorph, liquid Morphine, hoping to be off the codine, and stepping down to the paracetamol level, which I will hopefully not use. I would like to thank the eye surgeons, the ECLO, the HCAs, doctors in recovery, nurses, the anaesthetist, HCAs in ward 6B, the day and night staff on the ward for their excellent care and outstanding kindness and compassion. Thank you so much! I have a follow-up in 6 weeks, so we will know more about the calcium removal then. We do know though, that they had to remove 30 years of calcium build-up in both eyes, as our hospital did nothing until my optician found it and pushed for something to be done! I have now asked for my ophthalmological care to be in Liverpool, as well as my cardiac care.