Year: 2006

So, I had my hernia operation yesterday, and I came through it OK, although I am moving very slowly and carefully at the moment.

I have to say that I was very impressed by the local hospital (the Koningin Beatrix in Winterswijk). It was efficient, and all the staff were professional and friendly.

 

My operation was scheduled for a day when there were a lot of other minor operations going on. First I was checked into a small mixed ward of five beds, and then when my turn came, the bed was wheeled by the ward nurse into the operating wing of the hospital. It was almost like a conveyor belt in the room where the anaesthesia was done. Small teams of nurses moved between the patients preparing us, and then the anaesthetist came and administered the injection into the spine. But despite the somewhat pejorative feel of the phrase "conveyor belt", all the patients were attended to in a friendly and efficient manner.

 

I freely admit that I was not looking forward to being conscious during the operation, and the nurse asked if I’d rather be put to sleep. At that point, with teeth chattering and shaking somewhat, I said yes. I was then transferred to the operating theatre trolley and wheeled into the theatre itself. There, the operating theatre nurse who would be in charge of monitoring my vital signs asked me again if I’d like to sleep through the operation (I think she noticed I was trembling!). When I said that I was a bit nervous about remaining awake, she replied cheerfully that she could give me something to calm me down through the saline drip in my arm. So I said yes to that, and almost instantly I became much calmer. They obviously have good drugs there. 

 

The assistant surgeon asked if I’d like to listen to music, so I asked for something classical. He asked whether I would prefer Radio 4 (the Dutch classical music station) or Classic FM. Not Classic FM, I replied with a shudder – they just have bleeding chunks. Probably not the best reply to have made in the circumstances, but I still recoil from hearing Classic FM broadcast Beethoven’s Ninth in an edited version that lasted all of 10 minutes.

 

The operation turned out to be almost enjoyable, I was watching the surgeon and his assistant at work (I could see what they were doing reflected in the light above the operating table) and chatting with them about classical music. The surgeon was also explaining what he was doing – inserting a mesh into the abdominal wall that would, in time, be grown over by the muscle and repair the weak point. 

 

The whole operation only took about 20 minutes, and I was then wheeled back into the anaesthesia area and transferred back to my bed. The staff monitor the patients via instruments there for about 30 minutes (the assistant surgeon also came in and switched on the radio to Radio 4 – well done, that man!), and then the ward nurse comes and wheels their beds back to their ward. There the ward nurse kept an eye on us, taking our pulse and bloodpressure at regular intervals. The surgeon came by to check on us, and after a couple of hours, the ward nurse declared herself satisfied that I could be discharged. I rang Martin (a phone by every bed), and he came and picked me up.

 

The hospital will ring me today to check that everything is still OK (it seems to be!), and the surgeon will followup with a telephone call in six weeks time. All in all, a most satisfactory encounter with the Dutch medical system, and far better than I had feared.