Anne Hegerty - Queen of our Jungle!

Something phenomenal happened this week in Britain and it wasn't anything to do with sport, politics or music - no, it was on one of my least favourite mediums of entertainment . . . reality tv!


Yes, after years of vaguely following the escapades of 'celebrities' via newspaper headlines and trending hashtags I am now a fully committed, even got reminders set, hard core fan of I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here!


And its all down to one incredible moment, when Anne Hegerty started talking openly on prime-time national tv about being autistic!!!!!


It was so powerful a moment, hidden in so mundane a scene, that it brought tears to my eyes, finally someone has broken that ceiling and is simply *being* autistic on screen, not playing a role or being the token person trotted out for an interview or camera piece but just being themselves!! To see her being so understood and supported by the other people in camp is also incredibly heartwarming, these are real people who don't have the background understanding of being autistic or family to autistics themselves and yet they are *getting it*!


And its so much more than that, oh the conversations it has started! Suddenly the country is alive to discussion about autism and being autistic as an adult and a female, things like sensory issues are being talked about by random non-autism world people online, and the world seems just a bit brighter and more hopeful.


What ever she achieves, however far she gets, Anne Hegerty is already our Jungle Queen just for being herself - thank you Governess!


#TeamAnne

Life Goal achieved!

I don't have a huge number of things on my "life goals" list (my not-dying-anytime-soon version of a bucket list) but one thing that has sat on there for years has finally be achieved!

I saw the All Blacks!!

No, not on the telly or on YouTube but live, at Twickenham!!!!

It was a simply unbelievable day, albeit one I've been paying for the past 2 days with the worst autistic backlash I've had in years.

But it was so worth it!!

Even though England lost by a single, heartbreaking, point and the rain was thundering down it was still one of the most amazing days of my whole life. I cannot thank those who made it so wonderful for me enough - O2, who's Twitter competition I won, the brilliant staff at the Blue Room on the day who were so lovely and friendly and helpful, the Twickenham staff who were full of good humour and patience, the England and New Zealand players and coaches who gave us a simply phenemonal match to watch, and yes even the referee team despite my firm belief that Lawes was onside!

But the absolute pinnacle of my gratitude has to go to my beloved brother who was there with me, he is my rock when I need him to be and my let's go crazy buddy when the time is right! We speak in fictional shorthand and bizarre metaphors half the time and spend most of our time together communicating through facial expressions and sarcasm.

My brother protects me when I need defending, looks out for me when he thinks I'm struggling but overall he believes in me, believes that I am capable of doing virtually anything I set my mind to.

I have so many amazing memories from the All Blacks game but one of my absolute favourites comes from just a few minutes after kick off, when Chris Ashton got the ball he'd been screaming for and slid over the try line to claim 5 points. I was jumping around screaming like a lunatic at this point, completely overcome with emotion and my brother just turned to me, put one arm around my shoulders and held his other hand up for a fist bump, knowing what it meant to me as a Sarries fan to see Ashy score again in white!

The perfect dream wasn't to be however and when the final whistle cruelly blew he knew all the right things to say and all the words to avoid while I was processing the crushing disappointment before I was ready to acknowledge just what was achieved that day and how proud I am of the boys who played out of their skins on that hallowed turf.

It was a day I will remember for a lifetime and something that has strengthened an already rock solid bond between siblings.

I just wish the social hangover and sensory backlash wasn't quite so painful!

Terminology

I've been doing a lot of work recently on how to best support fellow autistics within the world of employment and social activities and as such have been thinking a lot about the ways to mitigate factors that precede the different types of meltdown. For explanation for the past few years I've been defining my meltdowns as having three categories:


Fight Meltdown
This is the most commonly recognised "meltdown" - the classic external expression of being autisticly overwhelmed. Its also the one I experience least of the three; its very rare I find myself shouting uncontrollably or lashing out with self-injurious intent, if I do its often because the "fight" is being aimed at myself as I try desperately to avoid one of the other two meltdowns.


Freeze Meltdown
Becoming more commonly recognised now under the term "shutdown" - the reaction turns inward, lots of internal negative/panicked thoughts, a need to 'hide' expressed by trying to become as small as possible through the tightening of the body space ('hugging' oneself, knees pulled up to chest etc). May look like a catatonic response as all movement stills and eyes becomes unfocused and non-responsive. Can include a measure of self harm if the freeze response is initiated to over-ride the flight response.


Flight Meltdown
An 'evacuation' response, the immediate need to 'run away' from the trigger in question; this can be as simple as just walking away from something, but can also include abandoning shopping in the trolley or leaving the room mid conversation. This reaction is a dangerous one, particularly in children as the 'flight' can lead them directly into more hazardous situations such as traffic. The response may be fought against and 'over-ridden' by the freeze meltdown as the logical part of the brain fights to retain control of the reaction, knowing that to flee the circumstances may be dangerous or have long term negative consequences.


There are two other terms I refer to a lot when I give talks and training, these are things I am (very slowly) trying to write a book about as I don't think they are very well understood, even in the autistic community:


Social Hangover
The consequences of an intense period of socialising - often a conference or highly stressful event like a wedding or funeral. The 'symptoms' are very similar to an alcohol hangover and can take several hours to dissipate. Best dealt with in the same manner as the post-meltdown period and whenever possible planned for, its very rare a large scale event like a birthday party or day out at the zoo won't have some measure of social hangover the next day!


Autism Fatigue
The almost chronic exhaustion that arises after a period of time exposed to lots of social interactions, sensory input or extreme emotion. It can be built over time or happen very quickly, I often experience autism fatigue at the weekend after long weeks at work when I've had to deal with lots of 'peopling' or my commute has been difficult (not unusual on the GNR/Thameslink line!)

My farewell to three members of our Sarries Family

Chris Wyles, Schalk Brits, Nathan Earle (and our trophy!)

I want to talk today about 3 special men who all played headline roles in our recent title winning match - a brace of tries for Chris Wyles, a last minute victory-sealing score for Nathan Earle, and, um, well, a yellow card for Schalk Brits!! (I think you were jinxed by Ali Eykyn on the BT commentary with that one!) 

Classy bloke that Wayne Barnes!

But this piece isn't about the memorable tries, obscenely good offloads or magnificent tackles, it's about the three individuals and the positive impact they have had on my life over the past few years.

The thing that makes Saracens so special is the values the club adheres to: Discipline, Honesty, Work Rate, Humility – I love the concept of these values so much that I had the words engraved on a necklace last Christmas! But one that’s missing from the list is a value that these three guys have in spades – generosity of spirit.

Most, if not all, of the team are kind, genuine, intelligent guys, but not all of them are able to be generous with their time and energy; but these three have always (to me at least) been wonderfully warm and welcoming, offering me far more than I expected and leaving me with memories that I shall long treasure.

Thanks for the memories guys, savour this one for a long time!

Chris Wyles is a rarity in this world - an American who is wonderfully humble, supremely talented and a true gentleman; the kind of guy who is passionate without being in your face, his enthusiasm for his work being evident in his actions as well as his words.

Last home game of the season 2016; meet the players!

I missed the initial creation of the Wolfpack lager brand, by the time I started attending matches at Allianz Park the bus was an established feature of the ground, but it is evident that a lot of hard work and commitment went into building something really worthwhile, that Chris and Alistair didn’t just do the whole thing on the fly and expect others to support it just because it was their project.

I love that the club seems so invested in ensuring our guys have future careers after they (have to) retire from the beautiful game; match days now involve a visit to Brad’s “Tiki Tonga Coffee” stand next to the Wolfpack bus, seeing Jamie’s “Carter and George” doing a pop up physio clinic on the plaza across from Mike Ellery’s new cocktail company “Raw Spirit” – although I’m not quite sure where in the ground would be best to put Ben Spencer and Henry Taylor’s brilliant “99 Sap Designs” furniture business . . . . 

I have a lot of wonderful memories from Chris Wyles' time at Sarries, most related to his huge enthusiasm for the game and genuine friendliness - from seeing him give away a full pint of Wolfpack to someone who said they were about to go buy one to watching him let fans try on his latest medal at Twickenham just a few weeks ago.

But I think the one moment that stands out more than any other is watching him make his speech on top of the bus after the Bath game a few weeks before season end, it was his leaving do being done on his terms: beer and mates in glorious sunshine! His words made me well up as I listened and I felt so proud to have been even a small part of a journey that clearly meant so much to him.

Mr Wolfpack giving his farewell speech!

Seeing him later I asked him to sign the t-shirt I'd bought at the Talen Stadium in Philadelphia, I've never really got that into getting players to sign things (outside of my 30 challenge scrapbook) but I wanted my favourite memento of that weekend in the USA to be signed by our very own Captain America, the memory of him wandering JFK departures looking for a burrito always brings a smile to my face!

My only signed piece of clothing to date!

Of course thinking of that evening in the airport brings to mind the truly joyous memory of seeing the effervescent Schalk Brits desperately trying to give away McDonald's fries before boarding the plane – despite being told by the airline staff that he could take them on board with him!

I think by now that a lot of people have heard Schalk's tale of why he interacts so passionately with fans, the disappointment he suffered as a young boy staying with him into his professional career leading to the promise to never let one of his fans down like that.

Introducing my sister to the smiliest man in town!

To me, the fact that he remains so committed to this concept is wonderful. He greets people with such warmth and excitement that it feels, for a moment, that you're his best friend and he's so happy to see you. I don't know if he ever remembers me from one meeting to the next, I think in the moment he remembers my face and things I've said before/places I've talked to him, but I doubt that asked an hour later he would be able to recall my name or anything particular about me.

And thats okay! He's a professional athlete (retired) who has meet thousands of people over the course of his career, all of whom wanted something from him (time, conversation, a photo, a favour) and he can't possibly be expected to retain all of that - if I had a pound for every time a player or staff member had called me "mate", “love” or "darling" I'd be able to afford one of the posh seats at Allianz Park!

And yet Schalla still gives you this incredible feeling of specialness when his eyes light up and that wonderful smile bursts out, a moment when you really feel like he's happy to see you, wants to talk to you. 

I've got so many brilliant memories thanks to Schalk Brits and his amazing personality; hugs and smiles galore, the Curry and Chat goodbye event, the wonderful photograph taken on my 30th birthday of him giving me a hug outside the Foundation takeover of Nandos, his signature underneath said photo in my scrapbook when he complained that my caption said "smiliest guy in rugby" when in his opinion it should have been "sexiest"!

A 30th Birthday a girl can only dream of!

But I think my all-time favourite memory has to be the one that is unique to me, that moment in JFK departures seeing Schalla’s eyes light up as he recognised me (as a Sarries fan that is), getting to hear the guys moan about how ling the McDonalds queue was and how much time security took made them so much more relatable to me! 

As a non-sporting doing person I‘ve struggled at times to relate to the players beyond my basic understanding of coaching, training and team psychology (thanks Dad!) so getting to see some of my favourite people in the most normal of situations, reacting exactly as I do was brilliant!

I didn't ever get to know Nathan Earle as well as the other two, and I regret that as I have met the compassionate caring person lurking beneath that easy smile and sprinter pace! I do have a lovely picture with him however that was taken on my 30th birthday inside the Nandos Takeover! 

Nandos Takeover 2017

Obviously when a player retires from the sport (as the other two gentlemen talked about in this post are) the celebrations and discussions around the person’s time at the club very different to when a player is leaving for a rival as a strategic career move.

It’s not the first time we’ve had a player leave us for another club, Ashy departed for Toulon last summer and had a song and dance quite literally made about it (some of Bazz’s finest work!) and yet Nathan seems to have been rather pushed to one side and forgotten about during the last few weeks of the season as all the attention was laser focussed on Schalla and Chris, and that just seems a tad unfair to me.

After the Bedford Blues match pre-season 2017 

Yes, he hasn’t given as many years’ service to Saracens as the retirees but Nathan has still been a fantastic team player and a brilliant ambassador to the club; his move is not a calculated ploy for more money or fame as far as I can tell but a necessary change in order to grow as a player and to improve his chances of making the RWC2019 squad – a dream that surely must be understood to trump all else at this stage of the World Cup cycle and his own career?

Representing your country at the World Cup must always be the pinnacle a player aspires to, above all accolades and trophies won at club level – domestic or European. The honour of that jersey, that cap, that call up is more than most of us could ever truly understand; I don’t claim to fully get it myself as I am not a professional athlete, I can only try to relate the concept to my own life and career and think what it would mean to me to be chosen above all others to fight for the chance to be called the best in the world.

And that’s one of the many reasons that I will not now, nor ever, begrudge a player moving clubs to further their chances of international success. The choice Nathan has made can’t have been easy for him but he is doing it because it needs to be done, Sarries are a fantastic club but they can’t offer him the opportunities he needs to get on Eddie Jones’ speed dial list.

Even in an uncapped Baabaas game, its a huge honour to wear the Rose!

It was back in March when I encountered the best side of Nathan; I was (ironically for this post) at the Schalk Brits testimonial dinner and I'd had an absolutely awful time for the first part of the evening - the venue was not remotely autistic friendly (high ceiling, all metal and wood, dim lighting with red spotlights etc!) and I was an individual on a table full of people I didn't know, with my back to the stage with not a clue what was going to be happening and feeling incredibly unsettled!

Cue the ‘wobbling on the edge of meltdown’ that led to me hiding out in the corridor outside the main hall, pacing back and forth muttering to myself trying to get a grip on my spiralling panic. I had been back and forth to the corridor a few times during the evening, managing to stay in my seat for the starter and main course (whilst probably getting through more than my fair share of the white wine on the table!) but had bailed to my refuge again before the dessert came round, once again fleeing the bizarre and confusing experience of a sit down dinner where people where wandering about all over the place holding conversations standing between people who were seated at tables eating!

The corridor wasn’t much better in terms of the sensory experience as it had high traffic levels due to being the only access route to the ladies, gents, stairs and lift! Most people had walked straight by me, a few had tried to ask if I was only but they were strangers to me so I had defaulted to my "I'm fine" response and they quickly moved away, probably relieved. 

Nathan spotted me as he was leaving the event and came over to speak to me directly, I don’t know if he recognised me then as someone he’d seen before at games, or even remembered me from being at the England v Baabaas match he’d played in at Twickenham last summer (we’d called him, Nick and Wiggy over for a group ‘Sarries’ photo after the match) but his concern for me was evident straight away.

His concern for me was clear as he asked if I was okay and if there was anything I needed that would help. At this point my mind had been tumbling through the void, free-falling back into that awful place I was in after the final in Edinburgh, but hearing such genuine concern for me from a player I admired allowed me to focus my mind back to "rugby mode" pulling on all the hard-earned experience of away games and losses to drag to the forefront my ability to get control of my panic and cope.

That simple act of direct kindness was so vital in enabling me to rescue my evening, the fact that he so easily accepted my response when I told him I was struggling because of being autistic and how the venue was affecting me. That short conversation left me able to finish up with a joke about needing some more wine and a tentative smile that I was able to turn into a real one before the event was over.

But more than just the kindness of that night, when I saw him at Allianz a few weeks later he recognised me straight away and asked how I was and if I'd enjoyed the rest of the night. We had a great chat about things that day, talking about him moving on to Quins and the need for change sometimes. I told him at the time that he has to do what’s right for him and his career, while he worried about being able to maintain the Quins victory record against Sarries at the Stoop!

I’ll be gutted to see him play in a Quins shirt next season (although come internationals it’ll be nice to know another team is losing one of their stars to even the field a bit!) but I’m  so very glad that he was able to sign off from his time at Sarries scoring our final try to win back our Premiership title!! 

Going out in style with one hell of a goodbye gift to us!

So, in conclusion I metaphorically raise my glass and toast;

To Chris Wyles, our Born In The USA superstar who’s brilliance on the pitch will surely be matched by the growth of his wonderful Wolfpack brand – may the pack always go to work for you!

To Schalk Brits, the never grow up Peter Pan who reinvented what it means to be a hooker – may your family forever keep you young and may the sun of your SA homeland be as bright as your smile and more welcoming than the drizzle of an away game up north!

To Nathan Earle, the youth and promise of tomorrow with a heart as big as his smile – may your travels take you far and wide, and may we meet again in battle on the hallowed turfs, another wolf-raised rose, you’ll always be one of the family, go well my friend!

#SarriesFamilyForever 

Westminster Autism Commission speech 2 - A Spectrum of Harm

The speech I gave on Wednesday 28th March at the launch of the Westminster Autism Commission's latest report into fake cures "A Spectrum of Harm"

This report started life when one of the Commission members, shortly after our successful healthcare inquiry report, asked “Shouldn’t we do something about quackery and fake cures?”

Well, the short answer was yes we should, but it took a while to piece together exactly *how* to do so. We were at a loss to begin with, as to where the responsibility even lay in legislation and just who we were wanting to talk to.

And this wasn't a problem unique to us, so many people have told us their stories of how they've not known what to do when spotting a social media post advertising a false remedy, or heard someone recommending a treatment that sounds strange or dangerous.

The continual expansion of the internet and social media has been a boon for a huge number of autistic people like myself; we use it to reach out to our community and support each other across fields and oceans.

But there is a nasty edge to the internet and the surface doesn't need scratching very hard to find an ugliness waiting to take advantage of other people’s desperation and lack of knowledge.

The fear that strikes into my heart is not of the charlatans and snake oil salesman themselves, these people have always existed, but that we, as a community, have become "profitable", that being autistic is still being seen as "wrong" and needing to be "fixed".

Parents will always search for ways to mould their child to their own ideal and initially struggle with things that don't fit their preconceived ideas; you know the stereotypes - the son who's sexuality doesn't match his father's, the daughter whose lack of ambitions horrified the mother who broke the glass ceiling, the grandchild who just won't "settle down and get a real job"!

But this isn’t about demonizing parents, it’s about supporting them - what we desperately need now is active guidance for parents towards support groups and autistic adults they can learn from, guidance for school staff and medical professionals on how to report concerns about dangerous treatments being used or talked about, and guidance in how to tackle the huge giants of social media and get them to realise that not every adverts money should be accepted and evidence bases are needed to promote treatments and therapies!

But more than that, we need those who hold the power to regulate to step up and start taking responsibility;

When it comes to vile ‘treatments’ such as MMS, we need the MHRA to extend to cover all healthcare products and not just those deemed ‘medicine’ by the NHS,

We need the Food Standards Agency to be clearer about its remit which extends beyond sandwiches and takeaways!

We need more clarity from all the agencies with responsibilities over what the public are told about products and how they can access them, and we need easier routes to advice and reporting.

These regulatory bodies should be easy to use for us and hard to escape from for those who seek to do us harm!

There needs to be repercussions for those pedalling these products; legal consequences – fines and prosecutions.

At this point I would like to thank the representatives of the agencies that did engage with us, and came to our evidence session, along with all the people who responded to our survey.

I would especially like to thank Emma Dalmayne for her tireless work in this area, it’s not easy to go out there every day and fight against people so entrenched in their mind-sets that they don’t see, or don’t care, about the harm they are doing.

We know that sadly, we will never be able to fully stop the actions of abusive people in this world, but between Emma’s work and our Commission’s report here today we hope we can make it harder for good people to get conned down those paths, make it harder for not so good people to make money out of those scams and ultimately make it harder for people to find out about them.

Vulnerable people are being targeted and we lack the arsenal to defend our rights as human beings, we need to bring the guidance, legislation and regulations into the smartphone century and realise that having the world at our fingertips means we need to be more aware of what is out there and what hopes, dreams and snake oil is being sold to people.

We do not need fixing, we do not need curing, but we do need supporting in our fight.

If you wouldn’t want it done to your child, then don’t stand for it being done to an autistic child.

Tales of Wisdom; Operation Extraction!

So I've been fairly quiet recently in terms of blogs, social media and general non-work activities.

It all started in October when I came down with the flu. Not a really bad cold but the genuine I can't get my legs to move for 5 days, even breathing hurts, flu.

Having had the flu twice before in my life (once was the awful swine flu version) I know how long affects can linger and still cause issues. So I was expecting the dull aches and joint pain and excessive tiredness to roll on for a few weeks at least which is why it took me so long to realise that the pain from my left side jaw was abnormal. I could tell that my gums had receeded slightly during the flu and thought that it was just a hangover pain from that, an ache in the bones from sensitivities and the flu.

It took me about a month to work out that actually, that teeny nub of a wisdom tooth had started moving again and it was essentially teething pain! A trip to the dentist at the start of December revealed that the tooth was trying to erupt but was so impacted it was on it's side, pushing into the next molar as its back point was erupting through the gum.

Ah great

This meant surgery to remove the tooth

Oh

Okay

The thing is I've had a pretty healthy life so far, made it to 30 without ever having had any big medical procedures like surgery. Sure I'd had MRIs done for medical research and the odd xray and ECG but nothing major, nothing that would involve General Anaesthetic. And this would.

I could have tried the local route but given how little of the tooth was through the gum it was going to be a fair bit more traumatic for my body than when I had two baby teeth cracked out at 13! (No adult teeth grew for my 5s, we thought this would make future wisdom teeth less of a problem!)

I was also acutely aware of how difficult I find regular dentist appointments and how utterly pushed to the edge of my coping ability I was by a molar filling a few years ago. No, going fully under was the best way for this to happen!

So, having decided on the best way forward I was then stymied by the eternal curse of the UK - the NHS waiting lists!

My dentist was unable to do the procedure so had referred me to a specialist surgery just before Christmas, and they in turn referred me on to Lister hospital - at the time of referral at the start of January Lister were advertising a 15 week waiting period.

I figuratively gritted my teeth at this (literally doing so was far too painful!) and simply began to carefully manage my pain relief routine (which now include codiene three times a day) and carry on with work as normal.

On my own I probably would still be waiting for Lister to get in touch about a consultant appointment ahead of the surgery bit luckily for me I have a very caring, very interfering family!

I'd spent a few days with my Grandparents while my mum and stepdad were on holiday and my Grandad had seen the pain I was in, even with the religiously followed pain relief schedule, and decided enough was enough. Cue a few days later a conversation with my brother where he admitted that they'd been talking together behind my back about arranging for me to go private for the procedure!

Now, I'm a complete JAM 30-something thanks to rent rates and exorbitant train fares so there was no way I could ever afford private care, I could barely afford the price quoted just for the initial consultation! Luckily my brother is a complete softy when it comes to me and he pulled off a modern-day miracle by convincing my Grandad that it was his own idea to offer me the help I needed!

As it turned out the £2k price tag was a bit more than my state-pension grandfather could afford but my mum was willing to add a contribution to the pot so all I had to cover was the £150 pre-surgery consultation fee which my dad ended up giving me after the surgery! I did still have to cover the mounting costs of pain relief however - there were definitely days my resolve to not get them on prescription was severely tested, especially the day I worked out I'd spent over £60 on them!

Once we'd decided to go ahead with the private option it was all really quick. (It didn't feel like it at the time as I was still struggling into work everyday on huge amount of pain relief and a limited diet!)

I called for an appointment Thursday 25th, was given Monday 29th for the consult and had the surgery less than 2 weeks later on Friday 9th!

The one thing I did find distressing with it all moving so fast though was the lack of time to process what I knew and what I still needed to know - I was calling the hospital from work the day before the surgery to check what I was supposed to do about taking my pain relief the next morning as I was nil by mouth from midnight!

The hospital was not far from my flat but I would be going home with my mum afterwards as they wouldn't release me to go home alone post GA - fine by me, I wanted home comfort TLC anyway!

I was due at the admissions by 11am so had to plan my night before and morning carefully; last big meal at 10.30pm so when I went NBM at midnight my stomach had enough in it to last! I set alarms for 5.45am so I took all my usual medication plus pain relief with the last glass of water I was allowed before going back to sleep to "waste" the hours before I was due to leave - pretty sure my anxiety wouldn't have fared well against trying to do anything else that morning!

Arriving at the hospital was odd, I had loads of stuff in my mum's car to go back to hers after (like my huge bed blanket and multiple pyjamas!) but the bag I took in was fairly small - I wasn't expected to stay more than a few hours after coming round.

I had, naturally, completely freaked out the night before and had written on my phone a slightly rambling, slightly soppy 'letter' to my brother and had even set an alarm to go off on my phone that evening telling my mum the password to unlock my phone "just in case"!

Once admitted I was lead through to a lovely room where my mum helped me pass the time with idle chatter before the student doctor arrived. Mum had to go back to work then so I was left to twiddle my thumbs and answer the same questions multiple times - I was starting to doubt my own answers by the third time round!

Having finally got my hands on the after care leaflets I started reading the information and was trying to work out the likelihood of making it to work on Monday morning when I was given a gown and stockings to put on. I was told I could keep my underwear on which was a relief, and could put my long towelling dressing gown on over the top, which was good as I epically failed at working out how to do the ties up by myself!

The stocking though were a nightmare! Awful things that made me feel vaguely queasy as soon as I'd wrestled them on. The foot bit seemed to be wrong no matter which way I turned it and I couldn't work out why only the tips of my toes were poking out.

I had just about got myself sorted and was messing around with my sensory frog and social media postings when they came to take me down to theatre - I shuffled off down the hall in my stupid stockings, slippers, towelling robe and flapping open gown, clutching my frog with the strength of a front rower!

My anxiety was spiking massively at this point, I knew what was coming even though I'd never been through this before. A cannula and then lights out, simple right? Well, it might have been had the first cannula gone in properly! Maybe it was because I was so tense and nervous or maybe it was just bad luck but they buggered up the first try in my left hand and had to take it out. This left me lying there going through my usual shock reaction to a needle (I normally go extremely white and neatly pass out just having blood taken as I can feel the needle under my skin!) and feeling like I wanted to be sick and yet still not able to have the sleepy stuff pumped into me! At this point a very kind lady helped me transfer my frog to my now achy and taped up left hand so they could put the cannula in to my right. I was very surprised they hadn't taken him off my already, and when I slurred something to that effect the lovely nurse told me that I could keep him with me and covered my hand holding him with the sterile blanket! 

Cannula now inserted into the right hand I think I actually passed out before the anaesthetic hit me as it felt exactly like previous needle related faints did!

Next thing I know I'm looking out of very heavy lidded eyes at a glaring white ceiling with a very odd sensation over my whole head and neck. A face looms into view and says something to me but my ears are like they are underwater. Then there's a very peculiar feeling and a slight gag reflex and I realise the breathing tube has just been pulled out and suddenly I'm aware of how strange that had felt!

The voice comes back a bit clearer now telling me that I'm in recovery and doing nicely. Another voice joins in above my head but I can't really tell what's going on, I think I fade back to sleep at this point because the next thing I know the bed I'm on is moving and I'm feeling seasick. Still barely able to lift my own head or keep my eyes open I'm wheeled back into my room and asked to shift across to the bed there. How I managed to coordinate my limbs in the right way to achieve this I'll never know because I was so heavy everywhere I could barely feel my extremities!

Settled into the bed I think I dozed for an hour or so until I was woken by a nurse doing one and taking my blood pressure - a sensation I've never liked and always had a minor sensory reaction to. At this point I became aware of how hot I was and almost desperately tried to free myself of some of the numerous layers on my lower half - I had on the medical stocking, calf wraps of some kind, a foil type blanket, and actual blanket and then a duvet! I was cooking under all that!

I convinced the next nurse to take off the weird calf wrap things that apparently were an extra anti-DVT device to keep my muscles stimulated (even though I was only under for an hour or so I was given them "just in case"!) and I was able to start cooling down. The stockings still irritated me like hell though, tight and extremely uncomfortable in my highly sensory sensitive state.

No one had really been able to give me an accurate idea of what any of this post-op recovery would be like so I was just lying there in my dopey state wondering what would happen next. I eventually managed to get a nurse to give me some painkillers that I could take with small sips of water as my entire left side of my face felt like it had been hit by a car. The surgeon came by around that time to check in on me and tell me that everything had gone well, giving me his office card to call if I had any problems in the immediate recovery period.

After some more sleeping and more begging for the stockings to come off they did and I was able to move my legs about enough to lift myself higher on the propped bed and reach my phone on the side table to text my mum. I was incredibly surprised so little time had passed at this point - only 3 hours had passed from my last text saying the anaesthetist had come to take me down. I still had the cannula in which was causing me discomfort so the latest obs nurse agreed to take it out before my mum arrived. When she got to my room I was feeling miles better as the two little tablets had kicked in and I had regained enough feeling in my throat and jaw to talk reasonably unslurred. We stayed a little while as I was still not fully ready to leave but after half an hour of chatting (including a call to the grandparents) I was okay to get myself dressed and pack up my stuff ready for discharge!

Pt 2 continues in "Tales of Wisdom: The Recovery"