'Now then, Mr Cropton, you'll be feeling a little sore down below. We've popped a catheter in so try not to make any sudden movements. Right let's take you up to the ward.' I'm dimly aware of the guy on the other side of the ward from me, is asleep, with his lower left leg in a plaster cast. There are 2 other bays, one containing an empty space, and the other bed soon to be vacated.Consciousness drifts in and out.
The next to arrive was Jim, who I seem to recall as being both loud and lucid from the moment he came into the ward. He seemed a bit of a grumpy old sod and didnt seem to be talking very nicely to his wife.
Finally the ward is completed with the addition of Bill, who took quite some to recover from his op.
The surgeon and his students make an appearance at some point. 'Ah yes, Mr Cropton, when we got you down to theatre we found you had very smelly urine, and so we've done what we could to clean out your bladder. We didnt want to risk transferring any possible infection further up the urinary tract, so we've postponed the Endoscopy until we've got the bladder infection under control. You've been fitted with a catheter which drains into a bag to your right, on the side of the bed. The nurses will empty your bag as and when needed. You may feel the urge to pee. Try to relax, the catheter works by gravity and your urine will drain into the bag quite naturally. Assuming your urine levels look normal tomorrow you should be free to go home. Do you have any questions?'
I make some smart-aleck remark about telling them my urine had smelt awful for months, but have the presence of mind to thank him and the team for doing what they could for me.
Catheterisation had been discussed as a likely part of the post-op treatment, so it wasnt too disconcerting to wake up and find the deed done. But it still felt very very strange, not that its something you can prepare for, I suppose. Suffice to say, they take a bit of getting used to.