And then there was one...

On 15 July 2008 (I remember the date well, as it's my father's birthday) I had a testicle removed due to a seminoma, and it was quite a straightforward procedure.  I was in and out of hospital in one day.  Here's the message I typed up at the time describing the incident.

I went in to the new section at the back of Wyong Hospital at about 7:20am yesterday. I played in the band at the official opening of Wyong Hospital in about 1979 or 1980. At this point it consisted of two main wards and a small casualty section, with a few smaller ancillary buildings scattered around. There has been an incredible amount of building going on there in the last thirty years and the facilities now are enormous. The latest extensions at the back are very new and modern, and very easy to get lost in!

I was second on the operating list for the day, and got into the theatre at roughly 8:20am. I had a general anaesthetic and woke up at 11:30am in recovery minus the right testicle.

The surgery involved cutting through the lower abdomen and removing the testicle and other associated connections, so there's been quite an invasion of the body. It's REALLY sore at the moment.

I didn't require too much analgaesia after the operation - just one pethidine shot at 11:30am and two panadeine forte about 4 hours later. Mind you I'm on doloxene as required spaced at least four hourly for the arthritis anyway, and this also works to avert the surgical pain.

I had a catheter inserted, a drain sutured into the wound, and naturally a cannula for a saline drip (seems to be de rigueur for most hospital admissions this day and age anyway).

At about 12:30pm, they finally managed to scrounge up a room for me. It was a massive single bed private unit, normally used for maternity patients. It even had a baby bath in the corner, which I didn't actually use. Occasionally some of the ancillary staff delivering meals or cleaning the place would ask me how my baby was going!

The operation was a definite success. (They didn't leave it in accidentally or remove the wrong one for instance!) I still have the marks made by some sort of felt tip pen by the surgeon consisting of his intitials and a rather large arrow pointing to the offending piece of tissue. This will take weeks to wear off, they tell me!

I had lunch at about 1pm after the operation - no restrictions. I was fairly well starving by then, and the lunch was great despite minor congealing of the mashed potatoes. I suppose the hospital food does suffer from having to be transported in racks over what must be an enormous distance from the kitchen.

The flowers arrived shortly after lunch (thanks again) and I chatted away with Sharon and my Mum and Dad for quite a few hours. 15 July was, in fact, my father's 78th birthday, so we had a bit of a celebration for him. It was a fairly quiet affair, though, given the circumstances. Mum and Dad live at Kanwal, so it was quite handy for them to get to the hospital. Sharon stayed with them overnight as well to save the drive back to Wyoming and return early the next morning.

Tea arrived at about 6:30pm, a cuppa at 8pm and then no more catering until breakfast at about 7am next day. Problem with me is my arthritis frequently keeps me awake for all hours at night, and it was no exception that night. With the Tour de France at a rest day, I was lost for viewing (I have been avidly following every stage this year), but I got myself a card to operate the TV set and saw a selection of Foxtel channels. Mum and Dad went home at about 6:30pm, and Sharon and I watched an old episode of "The Last Detective" on UK-TV before she was kicked out at the end of visiting hours.

I managed to get a couple of two hour sleeps overnight, which is possibly more than I am getting at home these days. Problem in the hospital was going without coffee and snacks for an extended period. In 2006 when I spent 2 weeks in Gosford hospital I could at least patrol the corridors at 3am and use the food and beverage machines liberally sprinkled throughout the building. Mum and Dad had brought me in some supplies of fruitcake, cheese and biscuits and a couple of bananas. They were very welcome to get me through the night.

I wasn't so mobile last night, however, what with tubes hanging out of me everywhere, and also being connected to inflatable cuffs around the calves which would inflate and deflate alternately every fifteen seconds or so to avert cases of deep vein thrombosis. Left leg goes up, left leg goes down. Right leg goes up, right leg goes down. Homer Simpson would have been enthralled!

I am convinced that hospitals do not exist as a place to sleep, because in addition to this, the intravenous pump beeps like crazy every two hours until the nurse either punches in some more numbers, or replaces the saline bag. They also do observations every hour for four hours then every four hours post operatively. This means you get your pulse, blood pressure and temperature taken at 8pm, midnight, 4am and 8am (plus or minus half an hour) all through the night. The nurse on night duty kept being disappointed by me being awake when she came in to do the observations, but I don't know what they expect.

Come morning, however, when I had dozed off, I was awoken by my surgeon doing his rounds at about 7:45am. All was fine, cannula, catheter and drain can all be removed and I can go home provided I passed urine and an ultrasound confirmed my bladder had been emptied completely. Breakfast then arrived at 8am, and then my nurse started disconnecting me from things for the next half an hour. The requisite urine being passed, and proof the bladder was empty meant she removed the drain from the wound at about 9:30am, and I was discharged at 10am.

I then had to wait nearly an hour for the hospital pharmacy to fill my post-operative antibiotic prescription, given as a precaution to avert possible infection, but this was a minor hiccup.

I arrived back at Mum and Dad's at 11am, stayed there for lunch, and got back home to Wyoming at about 2pm.

Since then I've fielded quite a few phone calls - thanks everyone for ringing - it is very reassuring. The star caller was Bonnie, of course. We had quite a long chat about lots of things.

Anyway, we await pathology for any further news. I will visit my GP in a few days' time, and a community nurse will visit me to remove the staples on 25 July, but I'm not really going to hear much more significant info until I can visit my urologist (Dr Finlay McNeil) which is on 31 July. He specifically wanted to wait until 2 weeks after the operation before seeing me. It will be at that point when I hear if I should need chemotherapy, radiotherapy or nothing further. Anyway, nothing along those lines has been indicated so far - although it is very early days yet.

99% of testicular tumours ARE malignant, incidentally, but if there has been no spreading of it into the abdominal cavity the removal of the testicle generally cures testicular cancer. The disease has a 99% cure rate. Lance Armstong seemed to have no problem winning seven Tours de France after suffering from the same affliction. Mark Latham (remember him?), and TV presenter Chris Reason both seem to have gotten over it fine.

I intend to join them.

Anyway, with tonight's coverage of Le Tour just starting on SBS, I'll leave you all with it, and type to you later!