I came around to see the face of a lovely smiling nurse who I think was called Michelle (I seemed to remember thinking at the time that she had a lovely face and was very pretty – weird I know). I was a bit groggy and a bit teary which is apparently common after a general anaesthetic and I remember her being really kind to me. I think I was still in the theatre area at this point. The surgeon also came to visit me and told me how everything had gone although I’m not sure I retained much of that information.

The lovely nurse wheeled back onto a ward and into a little cubicle and said to me ‘I’ll get you one of the nice nurses, there are a couple of battle axes’ which made me smile. Almost straight away another nurse (not a battle axe) came to visit and offered me a cup of tea and a biscuit. It seemed like I’d only been there minutes when I heard Dave’s Northern Irish mumbling down the corridor and then he appeared around my curtain – it was so good to see him.

I was pleased to find that underneath my gown I still had my knickers on. During my pre op the week before I had asked the nurse whether you have control of your bladder when under a general and she said that occasionally the bladder does release and there is nothing you can do about it. She told me that if I woke up with my knickers on, I could rest assured that I hadn’t weed myself otherwise my knickers would be given back to me in a plastic bag! I considered it a small victory, even though the male anaesthetist and the male surgical nurse had seen parts of my breasts even I hadn’t.

Next I was put in a chair and wheeled to the toilet (you can’t be discharged until you’ve had a wee). I think it was only at this point that I realised I had two drains. In fact, I don’t think prior to that point I even knew what a drain was, boy was I going to learn! The nurses fetched two material shoulder bags to pop the drains in and sent me off for a wee. Victory number two.

I was then left sitting up and they suggested I slowly put my clothes on ready for discharge whilst they sorted out the paperwork and any medication.

Whilst Dave and I were doing this a lady in the cubicle next door started vomiting and wailing really loudly. General anaesthetics can make some people very sick afterwards and she was clearly one of them. I didn’t mind the sound of her being sick, but the wailing was really getting on my nerves (most unlike me not to be empathetic) and she was dealt with by one of the battle-axes who offered her an anti-sickness injection in her bum. The poor lady was umming and aahing about having the injection between being sick and the nurse basically told her she could continue being sick or have the injection end of. With hindsight had I not been feeling delicate I hope I would have had a little more empathy for her as her post op experience was more traumatic than mine.

I got home that evening around 8.30pm. The whole process from start to finish had taken 12 hours. It felt good to be back in my own home and both boys returned from their activities and friends’ houses around the same time. It was so good to see them too.

I vividly remember Joe sitting next to me on the settee and saying, ‘is that it over with now Mum?’ Whilst I didn’t say it out loud, I thought to myself ‘If only, this is just the beginning.’