When it's a RIG. Silly.
After zapping on Monday it was slipper time on Tuesday, as I was due in to have my PEG fitted after Tuesday's zap. Despite a bit of gallimaufry about wards during my visit (see A Ward Hoppers Tale) I was fairly quickly put straight about my PEG procedure. Yes it was still on for Wednesday, but it was going to be a Radiologically Inserted Gastrostomy and not a Percutaneous Endoscopic Gastrostomy. Whatever, there would still be a plastic tube sticking out of my stomach at the end of the week!
So, Nil By Mouth after supper on Tuesday, early zap on Wednesday then wheeled down for my procedure dressed like an old woman. Nothing else can describe the theatre gown that fastens up the back and just about covers the knee, before the porter tells me that it will be a little cool out and folds a wee blanket over me like a nice cosy shawl.
Introduced to a cast of around 10, I find out that it's a little sedative and a local anaesthetic around the site. Nice, that way I'm awake to chat to Steven the surgeon about what's going on. First though, which nostril would I prefer? You see the radiological part is the guidance system that goes down to my stomach via my nose. It must be like eating live insects on one of those daft TV shows, but without getting to chew first. Steve keeps asking me to take a big swallow, but its weird and very tickly on its way down.
Then I hear it "scalpel! says Steve" - though can't feel a thing except my skirt being lifted and someone with rubber gloves on massaging gel on to my stomach. There's wee bit of chat, but before I know it, the stitches (well, staples) that are holding my stomach up near the surface are in and Steve's trying to stop one of them from weeping blood, or something.
Then its all over and I'm pretty soon back to bed with instructions to buzz for morphine(!) when I need it - they seem pretty certain that it will be sore when the local and sedative wear off. Correct.
I have a peek later on and wonder if the name RIG was the chicken or the egg; its looks just like a wee oil rig with the main well centered on a round platform and three columns spaced out at points of the triangle with support cables running through them.
I pretty much woose out of movement on Wednesday and when I make it up on Thursday I find an immediate wee issue, I'm like a Dug with two d-d-dangly things. Where do you put it while you go to the loo I wonder? Eventually surgical tape saves the day and I waddle off to get my daily zap.
Home in time for tea and first public showing for the boys - wow they say, what do you do with that???