Angiogram day

The angiogram process took from 11-6, plus travel and parking time. I have nothing but praise for the nurses and doctor. Even for a squeamish patient like me, it was bearable – particularly as Jennie could stay with me most of the time.

They brought in everyone they were doing and settled us all down. A lot of waiting as with many health things. Progressively, I was eased into the process, a file with my bed-number filling with information as the day wore on. My turn came to go into the treatment room. I was surprised by how large the room was. They put plastic covers over the big cameras, like people so proud of their new suite that they leave it wrapped in cellophane. Cold gel slathered on my ‘Brazilian’ area. Local anaesthetic and some prodding around. Random bits of surroundings: the typefaces on notices, the Diazepam-enhanced muzak which seemed to be the same cover-version band, perhaps some kind of package deal performing-rights copyright deal saving the NHS valuable pennies: ‘I get high with a little help from my friends’: indeed. The cameras moved around, alien-abduction style. Pictures were taken. It took 30 minutes.

Then the kind Geordie doctor gave me the initial result. Artery ‘disease’ too diffuse to treat with angioplasty or stents. I will need a bypass. ‘Don’t worry, we can fix this!’

[Swear words]

Two hours recovery time. Brittle humour. Chicken sandwich, sweet tea like the taste of mercy itself. The weirdness of having a lump of collagen in my groin. Hearing about the next steps: consult with surgeon, probably done in 6-8 weeks.

So there we have it. Not what I was expecting. I’ll be honest with you, I’ve cried my ************* eyes out, cursed God and sneered at the information leaflets. But I’ll get through it.

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