Fundoplicate Me

For months I have been waiting to see the all knowing, all powerful Mr King Surgeon to get his opinion on my reflux problems and whether or not I need surgery. I won't rehash all the details of this situation but you can read them in this POST.  Friday before last the day of reckoning arrived - or so I thought it had - and I rocked up to yet another London hospital hear the fate of my troublesome digestive system. My appointment was for 14:40, so needless to say, I was slightly irked when I was called in at 16:30. My irked feeling quickly turned into pure irritation when the doctor introduced himself as Not Mr King Surgeon (NMKS) and the following discusion took place :

NMKS:		"Hello, I am Not Mr King Surgeon. You will need to come back and see Mr King Surgeon for a decision.
		I gave him a look that I hoped said,  No sh*%, Sherlock.
NMKS:		"But you will almost certainly meet Mr Certain Surgeon right before they knock you out before surgery."
Me:		"So I am having surgery? Even though you just said I need to see Mr King Surgeon before a decision is made. And you think I am gonna be fine with meeting him right before surgery? "
NMKS:		"Yes. Errr.....No. What I mean is, I think you are a good candidate for the surgery. "
Me:		"So I waited for almost two hours for you to tell me that I need to be seen by Mr King Surgeon, which we knew because it specifically stated that in the letter sent by my doctor from my hospital? And he is not here? So I will not be getting a decision today and today has been a total waste of my time, your time, and the NHS's time? "
NMKS:		"Well, yes. I mean, no. There is a test that probably should be done before a decision is made. I need to order a PH test to see how bad the reflux is."
Me:		"Oh, the PH Manonmerty test where they stick a tube up your nose for 24 hours? Yeah, I've had that done. Doesn't it say in the letter and didn't they send my results?"
NMKS:		"Errr, yes, that test. Errr, no. It doesn't mention it in your notes and there are no results here."
Me:		"So let me get this right. Mr King Surgeon is not here. And I have to come back and see him. You know practically nothing about my case. You don't have any of my results. This appointment really has been a total waste of time?"
NMKS:		"Uhh. Errr. Uhh.....You should come back next week. Tell the secretary to overbook the clinic and I advise coming at least 40 mins late to your appointment. You should also call before you come to check that Mr King Surgeon is here. And, yes, uhhh, sorry.

Needless to say, I was very grumpy when I stomped out of the room and up to the secretary's desk. But I took a deep breath and as calmly as I could, tried to explain to the secretary why I had to come back and why it was crucial I see Mr King Surgeon. I am fairly confidant she thought I was full of it and being uncessarily fussy about who I saw, but in the end she booked me in for the next week and gave me Mr Certain Surgeon's nurse's number so I could call and check that he would actually be in. 

He was in (hallelujah!) when I rocked up, on time, for my appointment the following week. And after I waited and hour and a half to see him, he told me that he thought I needed surgery to protect my puffers from acid. We discussed pros, cons, potential complications and waiting times. Satisfied I that I finally had an answer, I started to gather my things to leave so I could get on with my Friday night.  I was just about ready to stand up when he he came out with this litte gem, "One more thing I should mention. You might have bad flatulence after the surgery. As you can't burp post surgery, the air has to go somewhere so it goes the only way it can. Down" 

And on that note, I left the hospital and headed to the pub wondering if I would be able to propel myself with wind power post surgery.