Thank you, Susanna, I appreciate it 
Thank you Jerry and Darlene Surgery was two weeks ago today, and seemed to go quite well, since the operating room had been booked for seven hours, yet the surgery itself took less than four hours, when it could have been much longer.
I arrived at the hospital by taxi at six in the morning, was wheeled into surgery just after eight, and was in the recovery room just before noon, though I did not wake up for a few hours after that... and when I did awaken, I wondered, what was all the fuss about? Because I had experienced a fair bit of anxiety the week before, especially exactly a week before surgery, though it was the type of anxiety I would classify more as visceral than psychological. On a psychological level it was not helpful that at every step of the way since my initial diagnosis in mid February, just about anything any medical professional had said to me was subsequently contradicted by somebody else (and once even by the same person!). However, even though I wanted to trust my surgical care team, I knew that ultimately my faith was not in them but in He Whom we know as God.
By the time I was delivered to the room which had been reserved for me for six days following surgery, it was dinner time, and I ate a nice meal (fish!), and then had a lovely breakfast Saturday morning. Orange juice about an hour later did my stomach in. All day long I had indigestion, nausea, heartburn, hiccups, burping, and little throw-ups. During this time also, the cuffs that were on my lower legs to stimulate circulation were removed, and I was given a blood thinner shot which made me more nauseous, and when Gravol was added to my I.V. to alleviate my nausea, I became even more nauseated. Lidocaine was part of my I.V. flow, with added Hydromorphone that I could push-button self administer every six minutes if desired for pain management, which thankfully I was not in any considerable need of, as it did nothing to alleviate any pain I did experience, something I reminded the nurses and doctors of when they would ask why I wasn't using it. They decided to double my dose anyway, and it doubled my pain levels. All this elevated my blood pressure, and the nurse refused to accept the high numbers and kept taking it again, I imagine hoping for better results, while I was begging her to stop, as it felt like I was being tortured needlessly. By three o'clock in the morning Mount Vesuvius finally erupted, and I had a nasal/gastro tube inserted through my right nostril, down my esophagus, into my stomach, where it stayed for close to a week, during which time I could neither eat nor drink anything while my stomach contents were being constantly drained.
I spoke to my closest sister and my daughter Friday night, and the difference between how I sounded the first night and the second night was alarming to both. For many days all I did was sleep at every opportunity, while three others in the same room were being tended to, medical staff and patients coming and going, and vitals taken on all every four hours. The 'no visitors rule' due to Covid 19 was a blessing in disguise. They did make me sit up unassisted at the side of the bed on that first Saturday, but delayed making me walk around until Sunday (walking following surgery helps get everything moving again). There was also a superbug scare while I was there, and I was "quarantined" for a few days in my curtained space by the window.
A week after surgery must have been when they removed the N/G tube, and I was allowed to have chicken consomme for dinner that night, which I threw up. I had a full fluids breakfast the next day which surprisingly included a thin porridge, and a terrifically delicious pureed tortilla soup for lunch, though the butterscotch pudding was a huge mistake. Jello simply did not appeal. Nausea after eating was gone by Saturday night, and the possibility of being allowed to go home on Monday looked very promising. 26 staples were removed Saturday afternoon, and four more remained, two of which were holding an abdominal drainage tube in place. The other two were under bandages, and those four were removed Monday when the drainage tube came out. Sunday we discovered that two of my four incisions had opened a little, and I sill have home care nurses coming every other day to "dress my wounds."
I was ready to go by two Monday afternoon, and my daughter was waiting. Her paternal aunt has been great in picking me up from the hospital (twice!) and driving the two of them to pick up my little Luna the night before surgery. I had originally thought I could do it that day, but my body kind of shut down and I was incapable of doing much beyond my full liquid diet and special drinks and antibiotic meds to prepare for surgery the following day. Luna is still at my daughter's place being well cared for in their busy household where there are five other animals outnumbering the four humans. Luna has her own room (the laundry room), and my daughter cannot believe how much she sheds!
From the hospital we went to Capers/Wholefoods and then to Shoppers Drug Mart to fill three prescriptions for me, one of which is blood thinner that I have to jab myself with every day for a couple of weeks *shudders*. The walk from the underground parking to across the street was as much as I could manage. My daughter stayed over night the first night which was lovely, and not just because she did my dishes and some general tidying, and we ordered East Indian food through Skip the Dishes, enjoying butter chicken with naan bread, pakoras, and samosas. We went to bed fairly early and then sat awake together talking in the dark in the middle of the night when I got up for a short time. We were up again at seven and I made coffee for us both, and then she got busy putting a grocery list together and ordering a delivery for me that arrived before she left, as did my fist home care nurse. One came today and I am expecting another on Saturday, and M-W-F of next week, after which it will taper off to twice a week... for how long I do not know.
My spirits are good but I am low on energy, and must move fairly carefully, though I have no problem getting in or out of bed, and am sill taking pain killers at least once a day. I am also still fairly black and blue from being brutalized by I.V.s and what not, blood being taken every day while I was hospitalized. Blood thinners make bruises worse, I'm told.
I am not to lift more than 5 pounds....
My coffee cup may be too large LOL
I received this beautiful bouquet from my boss/workmates today:
^ Taken with my smart phone ^
Thank you Jerry and Darlene
Surgery was two weeks ago today, and seemed to go quite well, since the operating room had been booked for seven hours, yet the surgery itself took less than four hours, when it could have been much longer. I arrived at the hospital by taxi at six in the morning, was wheeled into surgery just after eight, and was in the recovery room just before noon, though I did not wake up for a few hours after that... and when I did awaken, I wondered, what was all the fuss about? Because I had experienced a fair bit of anxiety the week before, especially exactly a week before surgery, though it was the type of anxiety I would classify more as visceral than psychological. On a psychological level it was not helpful that at every step of the way since my initial diagnosis in mid February, just about anything any medical professional had said to me was subsequently contradicted by somebody else (and once even by the same person!). However, even though I wanted to trust my surgical care team, I knew that ultimately my faith was not in them but in He Whom we know as God.
By the time I was delivered to the room which had been reserved for me for six days following surgery, it was dinner time, and I ate a nice meal (fish!), and then had a lovely breakfast Saturday morning. Orange juice about an hour later did my stomach in. All day long I had indigestion, nausea, heartburn, hiccups, burping, and little throw-ups. During this time also, the cuffs that were on my lower legs to stimulate circulation were removed, and I was given a blood thinner shot which made me more nauseous, and when Gravol was added to my I.V. to alleviate my nausea, I became even more nauseated. Lidocaine was part of my I.V. flow, with added Hydromorphone that I could push-button self administer every six minutes if desired for pain management, which thankfully I was not in any considerable need of, as it did nothing to alleviate any pain I did experience, something I reminded the nurses and doctors of when they would ask why I wasn't using it. They decided to double my dose anyway, and it doubled my pain levels. All this elevated my blood pressure, and the nurse refused to accept the high numbers and kept taking it again, I imagine hoping for better results, while I was begging her to stop, as it felt like I was being tortured needlessly. By three o'clock in the morning Mount Vesuvius finally erupted, and I had a nasal/gastro tube inserted through my right nostril, down my esophagus, into my stomach, where it stayed for close to a week, during which time I could neither eat nor drink anything while my stomach contents were being constantly drained.
I spoke to my closest sister and my daughter Friday night, and the difference between how I sounded the first night and the second night was alarming to both. For many days all I did was sleep at every opportunity, while three others in the same room were being tended to, medical staff and patients coming and going, and vitals taken on all every four hours. The 'no visitors rule' due to Covid 19 was a blessing in disguise. They did make me sit up unassisted at the side of the bed on that first Saturday, but delayed making me walk around until Sunday (walking following surgery helps get everything moving again). There was also a superbug scare while I was there, and I was "quarantined" for a few days in my curtained space by the window.
A week after surgery must have been when they removed the N/G tube, and I was allowed to have chicken consomme for dinner that night, which I threw up. I had a full fluids breakfast the next day which surprisingly included a thin porridge, and a terrifically delicious pureed tortilla soup for lunch, though the butterscotch pudding was a huge mistake. Jello simply did not appeal. Nausea after eating was gone by Saturday night, and the possibility of being allowed to go home on Monday looked very promising. 26 staples were removed Saturday afternoon, and four more remained, two of which were holding an abdominal drainage tube in place. The other two were under bandages, and those four were removed Monday when the drainage tube came out. Sunday we discovered that two of my four incisions had opened a little, and I sill have home care nurses coming every other day to "dress my wounds."
I was ready to go by two Monday afternoon, and my daughter was waiting. Her paternal aunt has been great in picking me up from the hospital (twice!) and driving the two of them to pick up my little Luna the night before surgery. I had originally thought I could do it that day, but my body kind of shut down and I was incapable of doing much beyond my full liquid diet and special drinks and antibiotic meds to prepare for surgery the following day. Luna is still at my daughter's place being well cared for in their busy household where there are five other animals outnumbering the four humans. Luna has her own room (the laundry room), and my daughter cannot believe how much she sheds!
From the hospital we went to Capers/Wholefoods and then to Shoppers Drug Mart to fill three prescriptions for me, one of which is blood thinner that I have to jab myself with every day for a couple of weeks *shudders*. The walk from the underground parking to across the street was as much as I could manage. My daughter stayed over night the first night which was lovely, and not just because she did my dishes and some general tidying, and we ordered East Indian food through Skip the Dishes, enjoying butter chicken with naan bread, pakoras, and samosas. We went to bed fairly early and then sat awake together talking in the dark in the middle of the night when I got up for a short time. We were up again at seven and I made coffee for us both, and then she got busy putting a grocery list together and ordering a delivery for me that arrived before she left, as did my fist home care nurse. One came today and I am expecting another on Saturday, and M-W-F of next week, after which it will taper off to twice a week... for how long I do not know.
My spirits are good but I am low on energy, and must move fairly carefully, though I have no problem getting in or out of bed, and am sill taking pain killers at least once a day. I am also still fairly black and blue from being brutalized by I.V.s and what not, blood being taken every day while I was hospitalized. Blood thinners make bruises worse, I'm told.
I am not to lift more than 5 pounds....
My coffee cup may be too large LOL
I received this beautiful bouquet from my boss/workmates today:
^ Taken with my smart phone ^
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