I had my hysteroscopy scheduled for 18 April 2017, the Tuesday after the Easter weekend.  I walked to hospital in the sunshine and remember feeling very positive.  I was almost skipping down the street – in hindsight this might seem like odd behaviour for someone who was heading to hospital to be put to sleep…. who doesn’t love a daytime nap?!

I figured I wold be under for 5-10 minutes – after all this was just a quick check that everything was as it should be in my uterus.  I thought I’d be out for a few minutes, wake up, recover and then skip out of the hospital into that beautiful, sunny spring day.  I met the anaesthetist, the surgeon and signed the usual consent forms.  All set.  “See you in a little bit”, I said to H and then casually strolled into the theatre in my [sexy] hospital nightie (you know the one with an open back where you’re showing your bottom to everyone else on the ward).

I woke up hours later in a daze and in a lot of pain – and I could hear H saying “can I take a picture of the records” followed by “is that negligence?”. I  was wheeled into the gynecology ward where they wanted to monitor me over night. I remember feeling confused: (a) why was I on the ward; and (b) why was I in so much pain?