I have had several surgeries of a significant nature during my time on Earth.

Some of these operations have been carried out successfully, while others have been less satisfying in overcoming the issues that surgery was supposed to correct.

The most dreadful surgeries that ever happened to me Took place at the Royal Darwin Hospital around a decade ago.

It started with me developing acute pain in my left hand lower side. I went to my GP, and he told me that I had the onset of appendicitis, and I was sent (under my own steam) to the RDH.

In due course, I was triaged, but no beds were available, so I was stuck on a bed in the passageway opposite the emergency Treatment room. There I lay for many hours, in pain, and able to listen to doctors trying their best to revive patients in that emergency room – often because of self-inflicted situations.

What did not help my cause was that some learned doctor came past. He declared I could not have appendicitis because nobody in their 60s ever had appendicitis – so it must be something else.

After being moved into a bed in the emergency ward, I was eventually shifted to an upstairs ward to await my surgery.

By now, the waiting had transitioned from one day to the next, and it was getting on in time, with me still waiting in pain for the surgery to be performed.

Eventually, I was taken into surgery and, following that surgery, was moved to the Darwin Private Hospital.

Being in severe pain, I hadn’t processed fully and properly my options when presenting at the emergency department of RDH and in any case, in Darwin, you cannot be admitted to a private hospital before going through a process of referral organised by a surgeon.

It transpired – at the time and be known to myself or my wife – that the surgeon whose name was on the board above my bed was, in fact, not present during my operation. My understanding is that he wasn’t even in the hospital at the time.

Given the growing urgency of the surgery, The operation was performed by “Fellows” – or doctors in training who is supposed to be supervised in undertaking surgical procedures.

The operation, which generally would have been done laparoscopically, was carried out with my being cut down my sternum and the appendix removed after that procedure.

Going on in time, the upshot of that unusual method of removing an appendix was my bequeathment of a hernia. That Hernia developed because the surgery had weakened my sternum area, Which opened up over time with the Hernia beginning to protrude through my gut.

I should also note that following the operation and before the development of the Hernia, which took place over time, the “Surgeon” who should have been supervising was nowhere to be found.

When I did have my post-operative interview after a few weeks, it was with the surgeon. During our conversation he told me that I had a “small hernia“.

That was somewhat paradoxical because the hernia he was referring to was in the lower part of my body. What transpired however was that the weakening of my sternum due to the operation to remove my appendix, gradually began to come away.

With the passing of some months, it became apparent that I was going to require rectification or surgery to overcome The Hernia that was developing as a result of my appendix removal.

The supplementary surgery allowed for a quarter-size sheet of gauze to be placed across the area where the Hernia had been developing. After this second operation I learned that before the surgeon could insert the gauze he had to do quite a lot of rearranging of my innards because they had been disturbed during the initial appendix removal operation. That created a surgical problem because of these adhesions

This corrective surgery worked for a time, but after some months the hernia started slipping sideways and began to reveal itself because it could not be contained by the mesh that had been inserted

There is more, to this tale, but the story of two surgeries will suffice for this post.