Having had private health insurance since the age of 12 and thankfully not having to use it that often, my experiences of 'The Private Health Sector' had always been good.  Prompt service, attention to detail and being able to select the consultant I wished to see was always a plus.

That was until I decided in 2010 to have a Hysterectomy.

I had always suffered with my reproductive area, and after having my children, the problems intensified and I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. This became quite debilitating every month, and was steadily getting worse. Having reached the grand old age of 43, I decided I had to do something about it. I did not take this decision lightly, I can tell you, and researched all the options before I made the ultimate decision to have a sub total hysterectomy.

I will keep names well and truly out of this article, but what I was about to experience, could have never entered my mind or featured in my worst nightmares.

On a bright sunny morning in July 2010, I admitted myself to the private hospital I had chosen and went through all the standard procedures before hand. My Consultant visited me before the operation, and was very accommodating with all my final questions and worries, to be fair, he did his upmost where my care was concerned.

Waiting on that trolley about to go in really hit me, and I was quite desolate that I was about to make a life changing decision. Yes, I had got my children, but this would change everything. If only I realised just what impact it would have!

The initial aftermath of the operation was fine, I felt to be honest, no different, I stayed in overnight and was discharged the next morning. I had noticed I was not passing urine that well, but just thought that to be normal in terms of what I had had done. No one seemed to be worried about that, even when I raised my concern. They just sent me home.  I had had the usual checks whilst in hospital my blood pressure, which is always historically low, was so, but everything else appeared to be fine.

I got home, and started to feel uncomfortable, and so my problems began, I just could not pass urine properly, eventually, I could not pass it at all and spent the night pacing the floor. The whole night was a complete nightmare, I was crying for no apparent reason, hot beyond belief, but this seemed to come in waves, I could not sleep, partly because I was in pain, but mainly because I just seemed to have a complete inability to sleep. I know now that I had gone immediately into Surgical Menopause, I knew this would happen, but had absolutely no idea how intense it would be. No one tells you about that one!

In the morning, I finally woke my husband and said I could not stand the pain any longer. He took me back to the hospital. There the troubles began. Firstly, there was not a room available…a strange thing as I was paying for the pleasure of being in this much pain. Finally, I was seen, I was in pain that I cannot begin to describe. They decided that I could well be constipated and did the necessary. I seemed to feel a bit better, so again, after feeling very rushed, I was sent home.

I had only been home a few hours and the immense pain started again, because I thought I was constipated I took all the home remedies I had available, and drank copious amounts of water to hopefully alleviate what I had been told was wrong. Another terrible night followed and again, I got no sleep at all, I was in agony, I could barely even talk by the time my husband found me several hours later. Again, we rushed to the hospital.

To cut this rather long account short, eventually they decided to scan my bladder, I had one and a half litres of water in it. By this time, I could have quite happily 'flicked the switch' I have never felt pain like it, not even in childbirth, nothing compared to it.

The worst thing was the attention I received, because I was in such extreme pain, I was unable to deal with the prospect of having a catheter inserted, the doctor took it, that I was refusing to have one. I was so tired and exhausted from the trauma I remember just laying back on the bed, and a sort of realisation coming over me, that there was maybe nothing I could do. My husband managed to convince them that I needed pain relief before I could go through this procedure. Eventually a shot of morphine was administered and finally, it was done.

I was beside myself with anger afterwards, how on earth could this have happened?  When my consultant decided to turn up (he was paged all day and did not answer) He concluded that unfortunately for me, because of what had transpired, there was a real chance that I had nerve damage and he did not know how long it would take for my bladder to recover and for how long I would have to have the catheter. The whole thing was the most distressing time I think I have ever had. I did in fact have the catheter for two weeks.

The aftercare I received was nothing short of shoddy and unacceptable. The emotional turmoil I had endured was something I would not wish on anyone, it has been a hard journey coming to terms with the whole experience.

As a subsequent result, the hospital now scan all patients before they leave following a hysterectomy.