My surgery went well. On the morning of the 6th of June, 2025, I went to the hospital to have my left hip replaced. I was frightened, full of fear of the unknown. I had managed 56 years without needing major surgery, and here I was, mildly panicking as various parts of me were being prodded and poked.
The worst part was saying goodbye to my wife and being led away into the surgical suite. A spinal block was administered, followed by a strong sedative. I remember feeling like I was being sat in a warm bath as the numbness of the anaesthetics began to do its job. As I lay down on the bed, my last view was of my anesthesiologist telling me that I was going to rest now. I thought about my wife and my son, and held their faces in my mind as I closed my eyes.
The next thing I remember was hearing the beeping of heart rate monitors, and as I opened my eyes, a nurse was asking me if I wanted to sip some water from a sippy cup. "Hi, JP, my name is Eve, you're okay, everything went well!" I tried to focus and mumbled something like, "Is it over?" as Eve placed warm blankets on me as I slowly regained consciousness. I felt no pain, no discomfort and no fear. For a few brief moments, I had a feeling that I had not felt since I was a child. Safe and warm and blissful. I heard the nurses speaking to one another as they prepared to move me from recovery and back to the ward and my waiting family. I felt good, probably the cocktail of drugs (including fentanyl) that was still coursing through my veins. As I became fully conscious, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of thirst and hunger (unusual, because I fast regularly). My surgery was successful and took a little over two hours.
I remember being wheeled back to the ward, parked in a bay and surrounded by nurses as they checked my vitals and continued to monitor me as I continued to come around from the operation. " I'm hungry", I blurted out. "You can have something to eat soon, there's someone here to see you", said the nurse. As I looked up, I could see my wife and son walking up the ward towards me, their smiles said everything: a mix of happiness and relief.
Within hours, the ward staff, including nurses and physiotherapists, had me up out of bed, walking up and down the ward, and climbing a small set of steps to make sure I had normal function. It was incredible. I ate a sandwich and drank plenty of water, and with the promise of being sent home that evening, I prepared myself for what was to come: a long road to recovery.