20th of February 1975 to the 19th February 1976
Reaching the middle…
…of the decade, and really beginning to take so much of what was going on around me by now; a lot of it I still remember quite clearly.
There were the happy days, the sadder days, and some days that terrifying things happened. It was all going in by the age of 3 onwards. The only thing I can’t recall with any certainty, is the timeline, and in which order they happened, but I’ll do my best as I think I can remember the seasons.
First off…
…in that case, will be my hospital visit. As I think that happened in the winter (males of a nervous nature may want to cross their legs at this point).
One thing I’m fortunate not to remember is that apparently I was having real pain problems when I was peeing, something called dysuria which can be quite common at that age. This then set in motion the inevitable procedure of being booked in to have a circumcision. Of course I wasn’t to know what I was going in for, but I do remember being in the children’s ward.
This was still the mid-seventies, so the beds would have been the old work-horses on wheels which had probably not seen a flicker of modernisation since the second world war. No double glazing back then either. In fact the building in which all this happened, based at St. Peter’s Hospital in Chertsey, all one level, looked from the outside to be dating back even further, probably to the turn of the 20th century.
I remember being in there overnight. The only light coming from the door to the ward right down the other end, which to me seemed a long way away. I remember talking to another child in there, this voice coming from the dark, and then the nurse on the night shift coming in and telling the ward firmly in her very matron-like tone to be quiet and go to sleep. That’s when I also remember a child laying there in one of the beds to my left in an oxygen tent, hopefully I wouldn’t be traumatised to have to be placed in one of those afterwards.
I don’t remember…
…much before I went in for my surgical procedure, but I do remember waking up from it, with the quiet sound of a pair on surgical scissors snipping shut.
Was the operation that quick?
Did they just cure the problem by snipping it off?!
My eyes flicked open, and a pair of friendly surgeons eyes between a face mask and surgeons hat softly said “hello”. Luckily, the snip was from the thread which they’d stitched everything down there back together with; with much relief, my now streamlined boy-hood was still attached, and had been taken care of sufficiently.
It was while…
…being back in bed and convalescing, that I got paid a visit by mum and dad; and, at around the age of 3, got my first glass bottle of Lucozade, the golden liquid resplendently housed in its cellophane wrapper, and the ladybird book “Goldilocks and the Three Bears”, which I’m guessing my sisters had probably picked out. So not only was I about to get out of my head on some proper glucose sugar, but I could have a read while doing so.
Eventually,..
…it would have been time to get ready to go home.
I remember an open sort of place, very bright and airy, with natural light streaming in through the windows. They had some toys there, the main one of which I focused on was the Fisher Price multi-storey garage, which I basically wanted to take with me, and didn’t want to leave when it was time to go.
Just before we did, one of the nurses said I could have something nice to eat for being so good (they probably did that for all the infant patients about to leave, to send them happily on their way). Thing is, it was jelly and ice cream. Great when they’re both separate, but together, for me anyway, is a big no no. As my heart sank a little, my mum decided it couldn’t go to waste, so decided to eat it herself. Thanks mum.
With my hospital stay now well and truly over, and thankfully, ever since my first delicate operation, I’ve had (literally touch wood 😉 no problems in that area ever since.
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