Happy 20th Anniversary!

What a day!  Shelley and Doug celebrated our 20th anniversary this past week, and it’s time to write about it, as it’s one anniversary not to forget, and one that I’m sure many of you will find hard to beat.

For the most part, most of Doug’s cancer issues have been kept at a separate blog (www.caringbridge.org/visit/douggwilliam) and this blog you are reading has mostly been about family events.  But this this event was such a big one for us, it is appearing on both blogs. Plus the cancer blog isn’t as easy to include pics, and you know a good blog has to have some pics!

We started out our anniversary morning by going on a drive – to the hospital.   We were told to be there at 6 am for an 8:30 surgery start time. I was surprised they needed 2 1/2 hours prep time, but who was I to argue?  6 am it was!

We arrived on time, and went into the prep to the prep room.  This 1st rooms gets you ready for the prep room.  In this first room, just some small amounts of paperwork, changing of clothes into the fashionable but not very modest hospital attire and starting of IV lines.

Wow look how chipper I look!

I can never look at the area where they poke you. I can’t look when they take the needle out either. I just stare off into space.

Here is our very lovely anniversary photo!

Ah how sweet! Happy Anniv honey!

I had a “roomate” that was beside me in this prep room and he was an older man who was going to have some sort of something to his kidney. One of the nurses came  in and was having him sign the papers, but the papers said he was having something done to his right kidney, and he thought it was supposed to be his left.  So then there was a lot of quick work to find out which kidney they were supposed to be working on.  They did some ultrasounds and in the end, found that the paperwork was wrong – just a small mix up between left and right.  So the paperwork was fixed, and he signed away. Shelley and I looked at each other and thought that you would have had that kind of stuff fixed before hand, but what do we know.

Also in the room, the “ostomy nurse” paid a visit and had me sitting up, laying down, standing up, kneeling, and all the time she was making marks and watching my belly. It was her job to pick the best spot for the surgeon to perform the ostomy.  (If you remember from the past post, an ostomy is simply an opening from the inside of your body to the outside).  She made some marks and then shortly we were moved to another prep room.  But Shelley couldn’t go further than a certain place just outside this area.

We said our goodbyes and kissed each other and parted ways.

Shelley was led to the waiting room and I was led into the 2nd prep area. This new area was where I would meet with the anesthesiologist and get some more IV’s placed and have a final meeting with the surgeon and part of his team.  It was busy this morning!  There were 6 of us in this room with 6 more right behind us.  It was a different part of the hospital that you normally don’t see  --  more “behind the scenes” with people walking all over the place, it was noisy and very busy.

The anesthesiologist came over and she explained what she was going to do, and that she would be in the operating room the whole time making sure I was doing well so the surgeon didn’t have to worry about that part and he could focus on the operation. She was very young and I overheard her telling another person that she was almost 27!  We talked about getting an epidural which surprised me as I didn’t think I was pregnant.  She said there is a 50/50 chance that the surgery would have to be full open surgery and if that happened, I would want an epidural to control pain afterwards.  But the epidural had to be given before the surgery started. She went and talked with the surgeon and she came back and again told me the pros/cons (cons being it would just be a waste if it’s not used) and the “normal” risks they tell you about, but that it was my decision.  I decided that I didn’t like pain, and if there is a chance I may need the epidural afterwards, let’s do it now.  So in it went. It was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. So now I am all set.

The surgeon came in and went over what he was going to do, and introduced some of his team and then we were off.  I was wheeled into the operating room and scooted over onto the skinny, hard, metal, cold operating table. I remember thinking that it was smaller than I had thought.  The only thing to lay on was a small foam donut under my head.  Some people were milling about doing stuff, and then that was I all I remember.  I don’t remember having a “countdown” or anything.  Just laying down and then nothing.

The next thing I do remember is someone shaking me slightly and saying “wake up..you are out of surgery now and in the recovery room”. I was able to open my eyes and saw a clock on the wall and realized it was now 5pm!  How could it be 5pm I was wondering? 

Dad came and waited in the waiting room with Shelley the whole time, and Adam stopped by as well, but had to go.

After about 1/2 hour or so in the recovery room, Shelley was able to come up and see me but this is mostly how I felt:

I was still very dazed and not all together with it, but she told me the surgeon came down and talked with her and dad and said that the surgery went so long because when he went in, he saw more than the thought and had to switch from a laparoscopic surgery to a full open surgery.  He took out the mass, which was rather large, and took a “bunch” of lymph nodes and blood vessels with it.  He wouldn't even guess on how many nodes he took because it was just a big “packed” as he called it. He said it was a “tough” surgery and he took out about 18-20” of the colon (large intestine) and then had to bring down that much of the small intestine to take it’s place, and that took some time.

She took some pics to show me that I wasn’t looking so “chipper” anymore like I was above.

I have no idea how long Shelley was there with me in recovery, but soon after she left, the surgeon came in and checked up on me. He also explained that it was a “rough surgery” but that he thinks he got everything and that all is well. They removed the vacuum tube that was down my nose and throat which was a very nice thing to get removed.

I spent that first night (Tuesday night) in the recovery room as there were no beds available in ICU where they wanted to move me.  I had IV’s in both hands, and was a on mix of three different pain meds.  I was in and out of sleep all night, and it was rather noisy in there, with moaning and people coming and going.  I was able to listen in to all the different conversations between the nurses and themselves, and between them and the patients.  I learned about a lot about the people in there.  They kept offering me ear plugs, but I kept passing. Then I wouldn’t know what’s going on.

Walter was brought into the recovery room that night. He was moaning and in a lot of pain. I could hear the nurses asking him questions like “Where are you Walter?  What day is it Walter?  Where does it hurt?  Can you feel this?”  Over time and overhearing the conversations, I was able to determine that Walter had a brain operation.  He was not doing so well in the recovery room. Lots of noise and moaning from him. They were constantly checking in on him and trying to make him comfortable.

Howie also came in after I did.  He also was in a lot of pain and was a “high maintaince” patient. He was constantly needing attention.  Over the night, I determined that Howie was the guy who was in our prep room! With the kidney! He had a kidney transplant. Hopefully they got the right one!

There were constant calls from “Bed Control” to Recovery advising when a bed opened up. It seemed like a big government run organization.  The nurses were always calling “Bed Control” and getting calls from “Bed Control” – they had all the power.

When it was determined that I could be “upgraded” to an ICU bed, Bed Control was advised, but I was told that it didn’t look like Bed Control was going to be able to get me into ICU until the morning.  So Recovery moved me to a quieter corner and turned off the lights, and made me my own little ICU section.  The only drawback is I was removed far enough way I couldn’t listen in on everyones conversations!  But I was able to get some more sleep.

Finally, the call came!  Bed Control called and said they had a spot for me in ICU so in the early morning I was moved from Recovery to ICU.  Wow, this place was even noiser!  Lots of beeps and buzzes, and the nurses talked loud, and it was busy.  I would have preferred to stay back at Recovery, but when Bed Control calls, you obey!

Once in ICU I could tell that my legs were all numb (from the epidural I was told), and I was also allowed to eat!  I got to have a “sponge dinner”.  It was a green sponge attached to a stick.  A sponge lollypop. The sponge had a slight minty flavor and I was allowed to dip in it water and then suck it. YUMMY! And ever so filling!

They put some leg massagers on the bottoms of my legs which were like big blood pressure cuffs and inflated and deflated – kinda like a massage. It was to avoid blood clots since I wasn’t moving my legs that much. I would have much preferred a neck and shoulder massage!  My shoulders were so sore as were my forearms.  I mentioned that to the nurse and she said it was probably from the restraints in the operating room.  What? They restrained me down?

There was less stories to listen to in ICU but it was noisy and I asked if I could have some earplugs. They basically laughed at me! Earplugs? They replied, I don’t think we have anything like that.  I was surprised – they were practically forcing them on me in Recovery and they hardly knew what they were in ICU.  Someone went looking in a “closet” but came back and said they couldn’t find any and didn’t have a way of getting any from Recovery.  Weird I though.  So I sat through all the noise.  Constant calls to/from Bed Control with Bed Control finding rooms for those leaving ICU. I heard my name come up, but Bed Control didn’t have a room for me yet. 

I noticed they had a little “safe” where they kept the medicine and when someone wanted to get some medicine, there was a white flag they had to wave and say “WITNESS…. WITNESS” over and over until someone would come and be their witness. When there were two of them, the safe could be opened with the witness making sure only what was needed was taken.

About every hour a nurse would come by and check up on my pain, temp, blood pressure and she would fluff my pillows too!  I thought that was a nice little touch.  They would also check all my attachments.  There was the ostomy pouch of course, the epidural pain medicine and bag, IV’s in both hands, a “drain” in my left abdomen which collected liquid drainage from the operating side and had to be emptied hourly, my catheter, and I think that’s it.

Finally the call came!  Bed Control found a place for me!  Late afternoon I was “upgraded” again to a “normal room”.  Thanks Bed Control! Off to my final resting place and no more moving rooms. Eight Floor, Room 53, Bed 1. Aisle – not a window.  Both Recovery and ICU were sad to see me go – each of them told me I was one of the easiest patients they had and that they enjoyed that.  I was only trying to please.

Shelley stopped by soon after I was transferred to the normal room, and the pain medicine made me so tired, I just wanted to close my eyes all the time.  I didn’t necessarily want to go to sleep, but just close my eyes.  So we would be talking or I was talking on the phone, but my eyes were closed – they just felt so heavy! 

I am looking a little chipper here too! But notice the heavy eyes!

My roommate had not arrived yet, but Bed Control had already reserved him the window bed, so I got stuck with the door bed.  Not that much different really. I got all settled in and had my sponge lollipops for dinner again, and soon my roommate arrived.  He was not what I was expecting.

Here is a pic of him I sneaked while he was sleeping!  I just couldn’t leave without one!

You know all those stereotypes and judgments you are passing on him right now in your mind?  Yep, they are probably pretty correct.  He was nice, we didn’t really have any conversations, just his whole situation was weird.

When the kids came to see me the first time, Marissa saw him and quickly came over to Shelley and said “mom, the guy in the next bed is a hobo!”  Of course, then all the kids had to go and look, but look like they were not looking, when they really were looking.

He was in a month ago for some lymph node removal in his groin area (still never understood what prompted that) but then the incision began to get infected and now a month later, it’s very very infected. To the point that it was draining about a cup an hour of “stuff”.  When he walked in, not only did I see him, but I smelled him too.  It was obvious that he didn’t have very good hygiene skills like bathing, using soap and stuff like that.

He had been in the military years ago, and as I soon found out over the next few days, he had a story for everything. Every nurse that came in heard story after story after story. And guess who heard them ALL??  Yep!  I did!

He lost a few toes 9 years ago do to a staph infection, he is diabetic, and loves genealogy. He was reading books about Brigham Young and his 15 wives and would often tell the nurses about some of those stories as well. He would get coughing sometimes and it was so loud!  And at the end it would end up sounding like a siren.  Once I asked him through the curtain if he was OK and he said he was, so I never worried about it again. One time a nurse did come running in wanting to know what all the noise was. He blamed it on swallowing some Mrs. Dash seasoning with his breakfast.  The nurse pointed out she didn’t think that was it, as it was now 11am.

Imagine my surprise when his wife came to visit the next day!  Yeah, he is married!  And she totally fits him.  You know what I mean, I know you do. They would talk about genealogy and stuff she found on ancestry.com and she would ask him how things were going and would always tell her they were great.

The next day, I think we are on Thursday now, I was upgraded to be allowed to eat “clear liquids” so my dinner was chicken broth, Italian ice which was much better than the sponge sucker, and some red jello.  How does red jello get included in a “clear food” diet? I don’t care, because it tasted so good!  I don’t care what color it was!  This was Thursday night. I hadn’t eaten anything besides sponge suckers and ice chips since Sunday night!  It was YUMMY!

As the days passed, it became obvious that my roommate, we will call him Whiskas, didn’t obey the doctor too well, and the nurses weren’t too happy to change his dressings either.  His doctor had told him from the first night, that he needed to get cleaned up – either by taking a shower (he could walk slowly, but could totally walk with a cane) or by asking a nurse to help him wash himself. For three days he never did this. Each morning the doctor would come in and tell him to get clean. Once Whiskas said that he did wash his arms and legs with some wipes. “That not what I meant” the dr said.  Everytime he would get out from under the blankets, I could tell – well my nose could tell and it was bad.  When the nurses had to change his dressings, it was 10x as bad.  I had to put my nose in my pillow.  I had Shelley sneak in two air fresheners for me to plug in and stick up around me.  They totally helped!  Finally! One nice nurse gave him a total sponge bath that night. I don’t know he got through it, but he did, and I am forever grateful for him!  Oh there was still some foulness in the air when he had his dressings changes, but not nearly as much, and not for as long. Maybe I was just getting used to it?

Whiskas never left his bed the entire 5 days I was there with him.  Not even to go the the bathroom. He had a portable toilet next to his bed and he just scooted over to it and went, and then back in bed he went.  At one time, his wife asked him if they allowed him to wash up and he replied “uh huh.” She then asked him if he’d been walking around and he said, “uh huh.” She then asked him how far he’s walked, and he said to the nurses station and back.  I wanted to just scream out NO HE HAS NOT!  But I didn’t.

The doctor would ask him daily if he had been up walking around and he would say, “uh huh”.  And the kicker of the whole story? His job? He is a home health nurse! By the time I left, he was also set to leave the next day, they had changed his antibiotics three times, found out he had e-coli in his wounds, and managed to get that under control.   I bet he ends back up in there in a few weeks. I think he just likes being there – being waited on.  Very strange. Very strange indeed!

So his antics kept me entertained…I was a very low maintenance patient and hardly called the nurses in. Only when a machine was beeping. It’s not very quiet in a hospital – or dark to get some sleep.  So ‘resting’ is done in 1-2 hour blocks.  Here is a typical night, starting at midnight:

12:00 midnight – Vitals taken (temp, blood pressure) every 4 hours

12:10 medicine brought in (pain medicine and intestine medicine) every 6 hours

3:00 am – change IV bag

3:30 am – Nurse empties urine from collector

4:00 am two shots – one to prevent blood clots and one to slow down digestive system (every 8 hours)

4:15 am – Vitals taken again

4:45 am – Blood taken for labs (every 24 hours)

5:00 am – one “team member” from the surgery team stops in to ask about pain, cramps, looks at the staples, listens to heart/lungs

6:00 am – medicine again

6:15 – another “team member” checks in

7:30 am – Vitals

7:45 am – the whole team stops in (about 8-10) just to quickly look at the incision

8:00 am – breakfast

8:15 am – change one of the IV bags

10:15 am – Surgeon and team visit (yes, the same team that came last time)

12:00 noon – shots, medicine, vitals and lunch

And then it just repeats from there. Its funny because at night, every time they wake you up, they leave by saying, “Now try to get some rest”

During my stay, I got nice smelling flowers (which were really good to “hide” the air freshener smell, some balloons, plants and cookies and treats.  It was very nice to get deliveries!  I felt bad kinda though, because Whiska’s didn’t get any deliveries.  Ok, not too bad.

I soon graduated from “clear liquid” diet to full regular diet after one day and that made me happy!  All the time, Whiska’s was eating stuff and I could smell it..and I just happily sucked on my sponge sucker or sucked down my jello while he was eating the good stuff.  When I got the good stuff, I found that I could only eat a few bites and I was full!  I think maybe they had a two-for-one special where if you get a tumor removal, you get a stomach staple for free or something.  Even  now, I feel hungry, but I only eat a little bit.  I lost 10 lbs in the hospital, so now I have to gain it all back.

My diet is pretty much whatever I want to eat, but for the first 4 weeks I should avoid foods with seeds or ones that don’t digest too well, only because they have a chance of causing blockage, while everything is still swollen.  The one thing on that list that I will have the hardest time with is popcorn.  We eat a lot of popcorn!  Even after the four weeks, I still have to be somewhat careful of not eating too much. 

So that brings us to today.  Still pretty sore from the incision and staples.  Especially when I get up from a sitting or laying position. I don’t stand straight up when I walk – it feels like I am stretching out the incision when I do, so I will just give it some time. I walk slow and ‘shuffle’ and I can’t lift anything more than 15 lbs for the next 6 weeks. 

Looking a little more chipper now that I am home:

Before I went in for surgery, Shelley had found this picture to hang on the wall to remind me that this is all a ride, and although bumpy, just hang on and we will all get through:

So that’s the story! Sorry it was so long, but it was a long week with lots to report on!

Oh, you want more?  Ok, but I am warning you, these pics are not easy on the eyes!

Do not look if you are quesy! 

Some of you have been asking about the staples/stitches. I actually have 30+ staples in a not so straight line. 

The pics make me look fat, but it’s just swollen. 

Don’t keep going down if you don’t want to see gross pics!

You are still going down?

You know what is down here, right?

Ok I knew you would look.

You just had to.

You just couldn’t keep from looking, could you!