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Tuesday 28 December 2021

George Clooney need not apply

This post is not for the faint-hearted. Nor for those who appreciate Austen-like prose. It seems any writing talent I’ve developed is directly linked to bowel function and the latter is presently below par.

Over Christmas I was operated for bowel cancer and throughout my four/five-day stay at Hereford County Hospital I was greatly impressed by the treatment I received. But I’m singling out one phase in particular because I suspect its praises are rarely sung.

Two nurses whose names I am withholding attended to me after I was hooked up to a phosphate drip to challenge the sluggishness of my downstream plumbing. This is not glamorous work, I assure you. All the more reason I shed some light.

My drip-feed worked – almost too well – and I found myself smeared with the noxious liquid byproducts of turning food into waste. I first wanted to lurch away from my own state but that would have betrayed my saviours.

Order replaced evil-smelling chaos, soiled linen was transferred to the Offensive Products bin, hideously crusted tiles shone again. I did my bit, marvelling at the efficiency of such pro-hygiene measures as rubber sheets, disposable chamber pots and impenetrable knickers with their inserts.

You’d have wanted to avert your eyes but someone has to do it – efficiently, swiftly and (I swear) with élan. “Cleaning up” doesn’t have the high drama of heart bypass surgery or the sombre patience of psychiatry but done expertly it evokes a special kind of heroism. They splashed, they laughed, they joshed, my two angels from India and Nigeria, and I was rendered pure again.

And grateful. And humbled.

12 comments:

  1. Yes, That is much more than just people on top of their game. I shed a breakfast tear this morning.

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    1. Sir Hugh: I've shed more than one tear here and there over this whole thing. Without feeling diminished.

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  2. I am truly sorry for your condition. As we age so these problems assail us. Ironically our systems for preserving us give us more years but more opportunities for bodily breakdowns.

    Do we live for "three score and ten" without preservation or for four score and ten with these painful and embarrassing interventions?

    Your nurses sound wonderful. As they all seem to be. My wife, who has just had a seven hour operation for nasal melanoma, accessed through the roof of her mouth vouches for this, saying their bright cheerfulness and efficiency (she was once an SEN herself) really made a difference and helped to put her on her feet again.

    I wish you well Robbie.

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    1. Avus: A true ordeal for Mrs A and for you. You may find that - for a time at least - you will see her as slightly changed. I certainly am. But you'll know how to cope. Thanks for that.

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  3. The kindness and professionalism of hospital nursing staff is astounding. I'm so happy you had these angels helping you through what sounds like a horrific time. And still you came out of it all with enough chutzpah and orneriness to yank my chain on my own blog. Bravo!

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    1. Colette: I am hugely touched to have earned the sobriquet "ornery". I wish for nothing more in life.

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  4. Nurses truly are the heroes of the hospitals. Roger had colon cancer surgery more than ten years ago. The work of a very good surgeon and the care and kindness of the nurses helped him get through that time. We both send you the very best good wishes for an excellent recovery and healing after your surgery. Stay safe and well there.

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  5. robin andrea: The likliehood of contracting this type of cancer grows with age. I think Roger was unlucky. On the other hand, those twenty years suggest he's beaten the odds. Good on him

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  6. Oh dear, what an ordeal.
    Thanks for describing the heroic work of your nurses. You certainly found the right words. Take care and get well soon.

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    1. Sabine:I wanted to give them my best but belly gripes switched me to self-consideration. Your judgement much appreciated.

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  7. Having nursed older family members in similar situations, I was actually glad to be able to repay what they did for me back in my diaper days. A nurse named Iahn once told me that anything worth doing is worth doing with élan, and his words came back to me. Also the answer to my question as to why his name was spelled like that. He explained that his parents wanted him to remember "I Am Here Now" when he was faced with a difficult situation. Indeed, I found him to be a pleasant and calming young fellow.

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    1. Zu Schwer: Can that really be true? About élan. I mean. I do hope so. And immediate accesssibility is a vital ingredient in the best of nurses.

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