Decompressive fasciotomy

Nothing really to write about the procedure itself as I was asleep at the time (thankfully), but this is what I remember about it.

I was escorted down to theatre by a nurse.  I was walking, and it felt like a hangman’s walk to the impending doom.  We went down in the lift, and then went through some smoked glass doors which I never even noticed before when we arrived in to the hospital.  Instantly, the feel of the hospital suddenly changed.  The smell of antiseptic was strong as we walked through a maze of corridors, and passed various doors marked Theatre and a number.  He showed me through a door marked Theatre One, and into a small “lobby” with a very narrow blue covered bed in the centre of the room.  He asked me to lie down, and so I got on to the bed, and shuffled my bum in to position. As if prompted, as soon as I stopped moving, two men in scrubs entered through a door at the opposite end of the room (which I assume was the actual operating theatre, and started busying themselves around me.

One of them, on my left side started messing with finger sensors, and the one on the right placed a blood pressure cuff on my arm (my nemesis).  As it was a very narrow bed, they put some L shaped metal place holders at each side to stop me rolling off.

A small scratch on my left hand signalled the cannula going in.  Ouch, that hurt quite a bit.  The popped the oxygen mask on me, and I just looked up to the ceiling.  One of them said they were going to give me the anaesthetic to put me to sleep and mentioned it may hurt a little bit.

Wow, they were not kidding, that was really painful.  I remember still looking up to the ceiling, and that’s all I remember.  Nothing else, I did not feel myself get drowsy, did not feel myself going off.  Just nothing.  That was it.