This article was written for Annabel & Grace, which is now part of Rest Less.
Since Miranda first wrote about having vertigo in August 2019 she remains impressively positive throughout subsequent events. Her story continues…
It transpired that my brain aneurysm was ‘mirrored’. I had another one lurking on the right side of my head. Great!
I was informed about this pretty soon after I awoke from the first operation to clip ‘numero uno’.
After very little cogitation… well, none, my decision was immediate… I asked my wonderful consultant neurosurgeon to dispatch this second intruder the way of the first. Chop chop then clip.
The following April was deemed an appropriate time to revisit my brain, having given it plenty of restful recuperation since August. March happened first, or rather Covid 19! Followed swiftly by ‘Lockdown’.
April was cancelled for most of us. The only people going into hospital were very ill people with Coronavirus.
July was mooted as a possible month to set an operation date. Then July was scrapped, as the hospital was still under dust sheets. August came and went, along with my first operation’s anniversary.
Then another date was offered, September 5th. However, everybody who needed to attend the operating room was in ‘the starting gate’ except the anaesthetist. I’d say that an anaesthetist was almost more important to me in this scenario than my fabulous neurosurgeon! I certainly wasn’t going to participate in any chop chop shenanigans until there was somebody in scrubs qualified to knock me out! I quite like to be deeply unconscious for a five-hour operation.
It became apparent all the anaesthetists in London had disappeared! The lovely Elli, who was trying to organise ‘who goes where’ told me that even their back up agency, ‘Call my Anaesthetist’, couldn’t find any to call!
September 5th was scrapped for obvious reasons … no-one wanted to operate on wide awake patients.
Elli rang suggesting I keep September 10th in my diary but “just in pencil.” I’ve rubbed that date out now. It was a tentative date, uncertain and unsure, rather like the whereabouts of the anaesthetists.
I’ve stopped informing my ‘loved ones’ of hospital admissions. It’s getting boring to read, let alone write.
So it’s October 10th next. They have found my previous anaesthetist! He was lost but now he is found. Matthieu’s fabulous, even though he said to me in his French accent, “I av never seen such saggy lungs as you av … ever! Your lungs are so saggy, is unbelievable.”
“Yes, well, enough of all that saggy business, Matthieu … I’ve got a date set in ink to attend to and incidentally so do you, so chop chop!”
Absolutely delighted to report that Miranda’s operation went really well and she is now firmly on the road to recovery.