When I had an operation
13/09/2012
The last time I had to go into hospital for an operation was enough to shake my confidence in the medical profession for life...
When I was 21 I had to have an operation on my left ankle in order to stop it from turning out to the side. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it as it would mean having a plaster cast on my foot and going back to live with my parents for a few months, thus losing pretty much all of my independence.
I had to go to the hospital the day before the operation for a pre-op consultation meeting. They made me wait around for hours before a nurse led me to a side room where they washed and shaved my lower leg. Then the consultant came in and, without saying a word, stared at my ankle for roughly a minute. He then produced a black marker pen and drew a large arrow on my left leg which pointed to my ankle.
Now I already knew the answer to the question which was at the forefront of my mind but, for some unknown reason, I still felt the need to ask it anyway in the vain hope that I'd be proven wrong:
"Why have you drawn an arrow pointing at my left ankle doctor?"
Sure enough the predictable response came back:
"To make sure we get the right one."
This answer didn't overfill me with confidence in the guy who would be slicing open part of my body in the next 24 hours.
Did he not even trust his own ability to read my medical notes beforehand to find out which ankle was going under the knife? This man had spent five years being educated at medical school, followed by countless years of practical experience and continuing professional development, yet apparently he still couldn't tell his left from his right.
After the consultation, the nurse told me I could go home and come back in the morning for the operation so long as I didn't take a bath. I asked if this was something to do with reducing the risk of infection in the operating theatre, but as it turns out they were just worried that I'd wash off the arrow!
This is why I love our National Health Service!
