The “L” Shaped Wound
My Week In The Freeman Hospital, Newcastle and My Recovery

A Warning Prologue
If you are squeamish or cannot deal with hospital stuff, there is nothing explicit in here but sometimes your imagination can take you places you would rather not go to. I don’t mention any names here but there is the main group of three consultants who made this happen, they are all world-class and I am so lucky to be in the right place for this treatment.
Here is the precursor to this event if you want to find out whow I felt before going in for my operation.
In the Freeman Hospital For The Operation
I adapted the title from “The L Shaped Room” by Lynne Reid Banks, and this is about my operation and its aftermath. On the 19yh of March I was taken into the Freeman Hospital in Newcastle for the op which took place on the morning of Saturday the 20th of March.
I have a post-op photograph but think that may be too disturbing for people to see. I am going to try and make this as easy as possible for everyone to read, and I know many friends have been through very similar procedures.
For some reason, I am scared of general anaesthetic and on Saturday they stripped me, stuck an epidural in my back, and a couple of other things in my arms and neck, and then put me out. I can't even remember if it was gas. Woke up with a huge “L” shaped wound in my front where I had been filleted. They said it needed to be that big because my consultant surgeon has really big hands. I was stapled together with seventy staples and I can’t really say I look that pretty, hardly a perfect physical specimen though I do feel OK.
You can read about the initial TACE procedure below, which killed the tumour, but it had spread to my diaphragm and touched a lung, but it’s all out now.
It took me three days to realise I had a button to increase the painkiller via the epidural, but essentially I managed to get some rest though they kept waking me during the night to check blood pressure, blood sugar, and other stuff.
Leaving The Freeman Hospital
They then took all the stuff out and gave me morphine by mouth that tastes absolutely awful, like Red Bull or some high sugar drink. My stomach feels alternatively like there is a brick in there or it’s tied with some tight straps.. They wouldn't let me leave until I had made an appointment to get my staples removed by my GP..
A twenty minute wait on the phone finally got me an appointment to remove the metal from me on Monday 4th of April. I definitely don’t feel like Iron Man.
Into Recovery - Stage One The Alnwick Holiday
This started off almost disastrously, the train was delayed by two hours so we took a taxi. The taxi driver didn’t know where Alnwick was and it was her first job, but she got us there. The flat was “Alnwick Castle View” and you can see the castle from the front window.
On Sunday I went to Morrison's supermarket but had to stop so many times, and was exhausted when I got back. Fiona was there to look after me, cook, change dressings and make sure I was OK.
I slept fitfully but rested, often sitting in a chair. Most days I woke at midnight and did Wordle (and had my first ever failure), but on Tuesday did the Supermarket thing again, this time successfully, but still felt really drained.
I had planned to drop a signed copy of my accidental book “The Ha’Penny Dreadful” into Barter Books, but that was half a mile away so definitely not an option on this trip to Alnwick.

On Thursday we had decided to visit the Dirty Bottles Pub, but it was shut til the 4th of April so we visited the Strawberry Lounge for some awesome cake and Hot Chocolate.

My friend Julie visited a couple of times and in an incredible act of kindness, she insisted on driving us back to Newcastle. I really cannot thank her enough for that, she is a wonderful caring friend but that was completely out of the blue, but she justified it by saying she loves driving.
Into Recovery - Stage Two Back Home
I can now sleep, though still waking, but as an example last night I went to bed at eight, woke at ten , twelve and four , the second two to take painkillers. On Monday I walked one and a half miles during the day, visiting the pharmacy twice and taking a bus to my surgery to have my staples removed.
The nurse said she thought the wound may be infected, so got my doctor to prescribe a powerful antibiotic (hence the second pharmacy visit). She took out alternative staples and a stitch and they all stung, but you know I am really just a big softy.
I have been signed off work till the fifteenth and work are incredibly supportive, they won't let me back till I am 100% fit but I have offered phone help if they need it. They sent me a beautiful card with lots of great comments from Angela, Obi , Stuart, Chris, Alison and many more and incredibly unexpectedly a £70 Amazon voucher. It is wonderful to feel so loved and appreciated.
So this is where I am.
The surgeons have done their job, now it’s up to me to do mine, to recover and get back to walking and writing and being me.
I've included Steve Hillage's take on The Beatles' "Getting Better" because I am getting better.
About the Creator
Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred
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Comments (2)
This was a wonderful story to read, Mike. My favorite part? Explaining why the wound/incision was so large. Made me laugh audibly.
Damn, that sounds intense but I love that your recovery involved cream cake and hot chocolate. Also liked your pro tip: If I ever need a surgeon digging around my insides, I will definitely check out the size of their hands.