That was the scene in my room at the hospital, a few minutes after my operation. It's called an abdominal myomectomy or open myomectomy - a procedure for removing fibroids in the uterus.
Finding out
One Sunday in mid-December, I woke up with a pain on my lower right abdomen. Lying down, I could feel a lump when I touch the area (I couldn't feel it when I'm upright) and the lump would move when I would change my position. The GP downstairs suspected that it was uterine fibroid and recommended that I do an ultrasound test. The result showed 3 blobs. The first gynae laid down different options: 1) conservative treatment which means just leaving it there, 2) myomectomy which could be done either by open or keyhole surgery, 3) taking medicines, 4) a non-invasive but novel treatment called HIFU. Option #1 was not the best option for us since we wanted to conceive. Option #2 is definitely an option but the gynae wanted to see if we could do #4 first as she didn't want to touch the uterus as much as she can. Option #3 is not recommended since it could result in liver problems. Option #4 required us to consult another doctor who specializes on the procedure.
One Christmas, New Year, CNY, a bout of MRI and 2 other doctors later, we had a clear recommendation - to do an open myomectomy. My MRI showed that I actually had 5 blobs and they're too many and too big for a HIFU so the best way is to open me up and take out those pesky blobs.
My wonderful gynae operates in Mt Elizabeth Novena so we had to do the operation there. My surgery was scheduled on 11 Feb at 2pm. A few days before that, I had to do a pre-op blood test for preparation. The test is intended to know how fast does your blood clot, your predisposition for deep vein thrombosis, etc. My results were normal.
Expectations
I haven't been hospitalized before so I didn't know what to expect from the surgery. I mean, in terms of the general procedure, I know what's going to happen but in terms of detailed processes, I absolutely had no idea aside from the experiences of a colleague who went through the same procedure. I intentionally had it that way because I didn't want to be overwhelmed with too much information. I didn't want to be anxious. And so, I treated the surgery as something crucial that needs to be done but not something that should be worried about. My husband on the other hand was very worried.
A hiccup?
The night before the surgery, my husband and I went out for dinner to mark the significance of the event. While at the restaurant, I got a call from my gynae. Apparently, , the hospital is discouraging elective surgeries due to the COVID situation. An entire ward was closed off and some nurses were quarantined so they have a shortage of nursing staff. This is in addition to the fact that staying in the hospital means being exposed to infections. So my gynae asked me if I wanted to delay until the situation stabilizes.
My husband and I weighed the pros and cons of going ahead based on our personal timelines and reasons but the final decision lied on me. It's based on what Im most comfortable with. Everything is ready. Insurance and leaves at work have been sorted out, arrangements with my mom to stay have been arranged, and most importantly, Im mentally ready. So we said we'll go ahead. I was at peace with our decision and I trusted that we are doing the right thing.
However, the news about the COVID was disconcerting. We were more worried about it than the actual surgery. So my husband and I mulled over the idea that we will go on voluntary quarantine to protect ourselves from the virus outside, and also protect our loved ones from contracting the virus in the hospital. That night, I prayed for guidance and strength.
D-Day
Aside from the virus situation looming over our heads, the actual day was very ordinary. I woke up at 6 so that I could have breakfast. I'm not allowed to eat or drink anything after 7. Breakfast was fried sinaing na tulingan, rice and tomatoes. I had to eat because that would be my only meal for the next 24 hours. By 8, I had to cleanse my bowel through an enema.
We left the house at 10 and went to Balestier to see my mom before the procedure. Then we went to Novena church after. From Novena, we walked to the hospital. We went to my gynae's clinic to get the printed copy of the pre-op blood test results. Then we headed over to the admissions.
The admissions counter at Mt E was very personalised. Each patient is attended to by a staff with counters separated by brown wooden dividers. It didn't feel like an admissions office in a hospital. I felt like a privileged client opening a bank account. The admissions staff made me sign forms, reiterated the procedure that will be done, how much it will cost, checked the LOG from the insurance, what room will I be in and what's included in the room. We were pleasantly surprised to learn that our room was upgraded because our intended room category was full. The upgraded room had provisions for a sleeping bed (more of a couch) and meals for my husband. After about 20 minutes of signing and explanations, we were done with the admission procedures by about 1140. We were early so we had to wait before we were escorted to our room.
We were not expecting to wait for about 1.5 hours. If there is any negative experience that we had in our stay, it was the waiting time for the room. It was already 130pm when we were escorted to our room.
Our suited butler led us to our room. While at the lift, we were informed that guests are only limited to 2 at a time because of the virus situation. Visiting hours were liberal though as it runs from 8am to 8pm.
In the room, the butler explained all the amenities. I felt like we were in a hotel more than a hospital. Aside from the hospital bed, everything in there looked like a hotel.
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| The interior makes one feel like it is a hotel |
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| The room had plenty of natural light and I had a good view from my room |
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| The fancy toilet |
When the butler left, the ward nurse came in to check my vitals and asked me to sign forms I think. My temperature was 37.6 - I had a low-grade fever. She also brought a set of hospital gown for me to change into. She informed me that the operating theater nurse who will bring me to the operating room will come in a few minutes. While waiting for the operating theater nurse, I was worried. I had a fever. I told my husband about my prayer and the fever. Is it too late to cancel the surgery?
At 145, the operating theater nurse came and I was endorsed to her. It became more real. I'm really going for surgery. I was also very worried. I have a fever. Do I have the virus? Are we making the wrong decision by going ahead with the surgery? But there was no time to think about it anymore. After hugging my husband several times, the nurse was already wheeling me to the third floor where the operating theater was.
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| Pre-op me |
To distract myself from an impending anxiety, I chatted with the nurse. She was from Myanmar and moved to Singapore after high school to do her studies here. She's been working in Mt E for the past 4 years.
At the operating room, I was wheeled to ward 8. I saw my gynae who waved at me while talking on her phone. From the wheelchair, I moved to the bed. I later on learned that the ward area was called the waiting area. In the waiting area, the anesthesiologist introduced herself to me. Again, there were confirmations about my identity, the procedure that I'm gonna go through, my medical history, previous surgeries, and drug allergies. She also explained to me that she will administer the anesthesia through an IV. There was also a question about my travel history.
It wasn't long before I was wheeled to the operating room. It was less daunting than what I've imagined and saw on tv series and movies. As far as I can recall, there was a mirror on the right side where I imagine interns and observers could stay to watch the procedure. In middle was, of course, the operating table and directly on top of it were several huge lights that were not yet lit. From the stretcher, I was slid to the operating table and that's when the action started.
There were 3 nurses who were already there, plus my anesthesiologist, the other surgeon and my gynae. I told my gynae about my temp and the anesthesiologist commented how the hospital still allowed me to come in (I later on learned from my gynae that the anesthesiologist was really worried about contracting the virus because another anesthesiologist from a different hospital also contracted it from a patient). Being the jolly person that she is, my gynae narrated in jest how I really wanted to go ahead with the procedure even after last night's call so we should go ahead. I don't remember who did what but someone took my blood pressure, someone attached gadgets on my chest and back, and someone helped me put on a hair cap. The anesthesiologist started to insert an IV on my left hand and she was so good that I didn't feel the pain of the needle going in. I was trying to memorize the details of the room when someone put on a mask on me and said it was the oxygen.
And that was it. That was my last memory of the operating room.
My next memory is a groggy me hearing someone saying that it's done and that they're going to move me to my room. And then another memory is me seeing my husband and the nurses sliding me once again to my bed. And me in pain.
It's done. I survived the operation and I need to sleep.
