Epiglottis

Looking back to D-day I realize I only met some of the 20 or so medics for the very first time literally minutes before heading into the theatre. Theatre 4 I remember. Felt like a VIP as the queue of people wanting to discuss their role, the necessary consent and risk of .... Er.... Death with me was out the door and round the corner. Should've sold tickets on eBay! 

For us it was a huge deal but for these guys we are one of many. But no-one made us feel anything but special, cared for, taken seriously. All of the teams were focused with the plan and positive. Well, cautiously optimistic as "Dr GRJ" put it to J at the end of the operation. A mere 6 hours which was pretty good going.

The Airheads were in control it has to be said as they had hands on the breathing. Nerves of steel. Head honcho was the Yoda of Anaesthesia. He exuded zen calmness and control in the midst of all the fear I was trying to suppress. He was exactly what I needed. His wingman, Shakira - I know but I can't remember how to spell his name! Shakira the rego had walked me through their concerns briefly a couple of days before. It was all coming down to the epiglottis. That was the thinning bit where the breathing tube was likely to get stuck. Yoda had seen it on the scan. But along with all the other risks with Anaesthesia I kind of hid the epiglottis fact away as it was only briefly mentioned. Shakira had nonchalantly said oh if we do have a problem we can stick a needle in your neck and relax it, yeah anyway Shaka, let's move it along abit eh. 

So I walked into theatre 4 with my gown flapping in the wind, having left my backbone in the other room having to wait out the day. At least I had something to do. J had to wait it out. We knew the first hour would be crucial, all about the intubation. I can remember the lovely theatre nurse who was busily prepping me, totally focused, very normal, like she was setting up the market stall, get ya bananas 2 pound a pound! I remember the spray to numb the mouth and throat. Then the steady story of the cameras journey from the outside into my insides, like a David Attenborough documentary. We're going through the tunnel now, the tunnel king from the Great Escape dictates from his view of my inner tubes. It's all going well until they reach the epiglottis. It's the epiglottis I hear them say. Epiglottis! Oh ok I'll just try to relax the epiglottis then, that should do it, eh. Then a blackness and it's the last thing I hear until I'm waking up in ICU a whole day later! 

The next day Shaka came to see me. I said what happened was it all about the epiglottis? Yeah he said. Oh cos I really think I helped by relaxing the epiglottis when I heard you guys saying it was a struggle. Nah he said we used drugs, what you mean it wasn't an act of God then? Nah he says, it's us, we're the gods! I'd have to agree with him. Nerves of steel those guys.