The Long, Sordid Tale ...
Wow! What a week it's been! When I think about it, ONE WEEK ago right now I was actually in surgery. What a difference a week makes!
Friday, April 20th, 2007: PRE-OP / OP
Friday morning, I arrived at the hospital on time and without noteworthy incident. I had spent a relatively sleepless night at the hotel, but I figured that I could catch up on sleep during/after surgery.
The pre-op time is always full of anxiety for me, just wanting to get the show on the road. Don and I experienced a few moments of outright fear after Dr. Holt frankly told us that the anesthesiologist did not want me to have the surgery (due to the lung tumors), and that her main goal was to keep me from dying on the table.
We were obviously upset by this, and I made Don promise NOT to go downstairs and repeat that to my family who were there with him (Mom and Bob, Dad and Virginia, my sisters Jennifer and Lori, and Jenny's bf Brent). We said good-bye in a Hollywood-worthy haze, wondering if we would ever see each other again.
I was whisked into the OR, where the last memory I have pre-surgery is the oxygen mask over my face and someone telling me over and over again to "breathe slowly and deeply".
The next thing I remember was thinking, "Hey, I'm still alive! And vomiting!" as I threw up continuously in the recovery room.
Finally, the younger doctor (can't remember her name) was standing at the foot of the bed, smiling. Surgery had gone great, she told me, and I wouldn't need to go to the ICU at all, but only to a "monitored room". (Josiah erroneously reported that I would be in ICU that night, but I DID NOT spend any time in ICU.)
Dr. Holt had removed about 3/4 of my femur bone and had reinforced the hip with a multi-layer metal contraption. It was safe to put full weight on it immediately -- at which point I leaped from the bed for a few cartwheels -- well, in my mind, anyway!
Once a room was available, they sent my family there to wait and then I was taken for an x-ray. You have to remember that I was SO out of it at that point: I complained to high heaven about them making me do that in my just-out-of-surgery, still-vomiting stage. They were very good sports about it, and I finally made it to my room, saw all of my family, sent ALL of them (including Don) to the hotel for a good night's sleep, and collapsed with my hand lovingly cradling the Dilaudid pump self-dispenser.
Days run together after this, so I'll be as accurate with time/dates as my brain allows.
Saturday, April 21 - Sunday, April 22: Living in a fog
Some time on Saturday, we were told that my blood pressure was dangerously low and that blood work showed that my kidney functions were impaired. They said that my kidneys might have been damaged during the surgery or from diabetes.
Finally, it was decided that I had lost too many fluids and would need a blood transfusion. They removed my pain pump -- hey, that's not fair! -- and replaced it with two units of blood, one after the other. Then they removed my catheter and told me we'd watch and see how my kidneys did.
My kidney function improved dramatically, but my blood pressure remained very low for several more days. Finally, they pulled my bp meds and that seemed to help my bp stabilize a little higher.
I remember very little about these two days. Everyone went home except Don and Daddy and Virginia, who slept at the hotel and then spent the day with me.
Monday, 4/22 and Tuesday, 4/23: Reality slowly rolls in
By Monday, and especially by Tuesday, I was able to stay awake for longer stretches of time. PT came and got me out of bed each day. I walked using the walker and yes, I did put some weight on the NIL (new, improved leg). It felt heavy and I was awkward and did not really feel "graceful" enough to avoid putting some weight on it. It was painful and cranky, but not unbearable.
Pain meds were given to me orally now, once every 12 hours with the offer of additional pain meds for "breakthrough" pain, which I never needed.
Dr. Holt came by to visit me on Monday afternoon. She was very pleased with how well surgery had gone, and told me, "You were right. You do well through surgery." She gave us more details about the amount of cancerous bone that had been removed, etc. She wants me to put as much weight on it as possible, since, as she says, "it's as strong now as it's ever going to be". Somehow, I'm just not too tempted to test that theory!
Dad and Virginia left reluctantly on Monday, so Don spent the rest of the days and nights with me at the hospital, sleeping in a reclining chair. By Thursday, he was planning to go back to the hotel if we didn't go home.
Nurses came and went in day-and-night procession: Joneth, Kerri, Michelle, Lisa, Angie. There were more, but I can't remember everyone by name. They were great to us! The excellent nursing staff really made my stay comfortable and as pleasant as possible.
By Tuesday, the doctor was hinting that I could go home if my leg would stop draining. We couldn't believe our ears! We started praying, and I asked Josiah to post a prayer request to the blog for us.
Wednesday, 4/25 and Thursday, 4/26: I Wanna Go Home!
By Wednesday, I was coherent enough (and tired enough of being poked, prodded, and molested) to start begging to come home. My leg kept draining, though, and this slowed us down.
I talked to Zach (and all of the other kids) on the phone each evening. On Wednesday night, he said, "I don't understand! Didn't they fix your leg?" "Yes, Zach." "Then why can't you just get your walker, walk out of the hospital, get in the van, and come home?" Oh, Zach ... If only it were that simple. If only.
Thursday morning started terribly with a failed attempt to draw blood from my port, followed by EIGHT sticks by THREE nurses in a attempt to coax blood from my bruised and battered veins. Finally, I cried and prayed out loud while Angie, our final nurse, found a vein on my left wrist that would sputter a little blood into the tubes.
This happened in tandem with the doctor's morning visit, where he announced that my leg was STILL draining too much to go home. I gave an emotional plea, promising him that I would be much more active at home and that would help me heal more quickly. He promised to check with Dr. Holt.
Thursday morning was a low point for me, emotionally and physically. PT came, and I half-heartedly hiked the hallway in my green and brown plaid bare-butt special and then sat in the chair. I decided to pass some time by washing my hair and sponge bathing. At lunch time, I returned to my bed.
The social worker, who had arranged delivery of my hospital bed for me, stopped by and asked why I was still there. I explained that I was waiting for the final verdict. She paged the surgeon's group, and less than 20 minutes later, the doctor who saw me on rounds every day was in the doorway. He didn't say a word, but he grinned and made a "get out of here" motion with his thumb.
We were absolutely thrilled! I looked at Don, and there were tears of joy rising in his eyes. He started gathering our things together just as lunch arrived. Angie, our nurse, made sure that he got a sandwich tray before we left.
We hit the road about 2:30 ET yesterday for the trip home. We wedged my leg in with a pillow. I was worried about pain, but the trip home was pretty easy, in spite of the heavy rain.
Today, 4/27 begins a new chapter.
Physically, I am weak and sore, but doing well overall. My lungs are clear, my NIL is cranky but solid, my bp has stabilized. The Lord really blessed me with fast healing and a SHORT hospital stay. Everything went well here at the house, and we were thrilled to be reunited with the kids. I keep pinching myself to believe that we're home, and the surgery is BEHIND us now.
I have been up once already today and am getting ready to get up again and stir around.
The road ahead will be steep and rocky, but it's not our first climb. I am standing (standing!) at the base of the mountain, looking up, ready to take that first tentative step into the future. I hope you'll hang around for the journey.
That's what I'm planning to do!
Friday, April 20th, 2007: PRE-OP / OP
Friday morning, I arrived at the hospital on time and without noteworthy incident. I had spent a relatively sleepless night at the hotel, but I figured that I could catch up on sleep during/after surgery.
The pre-op time is always full of anxiety for me, just wanting to get the show on the road. Don and I experienced a few moments of outright fear after Dr. Holt frankly told us that the anesthesiologist did not want me to have the surgery (due to the lung tumors), and that her main goal was to keep me from dying on the table.
We were obviously upset by this, and I made Don promise NOT to go downstairs and repeat that to my family who were there with him (Mom and Bob, Dad and Virginia, my sisters Jennifer and Lori, and Jenny's bf Brent). We said good-bye in a Hollywood-worthy haze, wondering if we would ever see each other again.
I was whisked into the OR, where the last memory I have pre-surgery is the oxygen mask over my face and someone telling me over and over again to "breathe slowly and deeply".
The next thing I remember was thinking, "Hey, I'm still alive! And vomiting!" as I threw up continuously in the recovery room.
Finally, the younger doctor (can't remember her name) was standing at the foot of the bed, smiling. Surgery had gone great, she told me, and I wouldn't need to go to the ICU at all, but only to a "monitored room". (Josiah erroneously reported that I would be in ICU that night, but I DID NOT spend any time in ICU.)
Dr. Holt had removed about 3/4 of my femur bone and had reinforced the hip with a multi-layer metal contraption. It was safe to put full weight on it immediately -- at which point I leaped from the bed for a few cartwheels -- well, in my mind, anyway!
Once a room was available, they sent my family there to wait and then I was taken for an x-ray. You have to remember that I was SO out of it at that point: I complained to high heaven about them making me do that in my just-out-of-surgery, still-vomiting stage. They were very good sports about it, and I finally made it to my room, saw all of my family, sent ALL of them (including Don) to the hotel for a good night's sleep, and collapsed with my hand lovingly cradling the Dilaudid pump self-dispenser.
Days run together after this, so I'll be as accurate with time/dates as my brain allows.
Saturday, April 21 - Sunday, April 22: Living in a fog
Some time on Saturday, we were told that my blood pressure was dangerously low and that blood work showed that my kidney functions were impaired. They said that my kidneys might have been damaged during the surgery or from diabetes.
Finally, it was decided that I had lost too many fluids and would need a blood transfusion. They removed my pain pump -- hey, that's not fair! -- and replaced it with two units of blood, one after the other. Then they removed my catheter and told me we'd watch and see how my kidneys did.
My kidney function improved dramatically, but my blood pressure remained very low for several more days. Finally, they pulled my bp meds and that seemed to help my bp stabilize a little higher.
I remember very little about these two days. Everyone went home except Don and Daddy and Virginia, who slept at the hotel and then spent the day with me.
Monday, 4/22 and Tuesday, 4/23: Reality slowly rolls in
By Monday, and especially by Tuesday, I was able to stay awake for longer stretches of time. PT came and got me out of bed each day. I walked using the walker and yes, I did put some weight on the NIL (new, improved leg). It felt heavy and I was awkward and did not really feel "graceful" enough to avoid putting some weight on it. It was painful and cranky, but not unbearable.
Pain meds were given to me orally now, once every 12 hours with the offer of additional pain meds for "breakthrough" pain, which I never needed.
Dr. Holt came by to visit me on Monday afternoon. She was very pleased with how well surgery had gone, and told me, "You were right. You do well through surgery." She gave us more details about the amount of cancerous bone that had been removed, etc. She wants me to put as much weight on it as possible, since, as she says, "it's as strong now as it's ever going to be". Somehow, I'm just not too tempted to test that theory!
Dad and Virginia left reluctantly on Monday, so Don spent the rest of the days and nights with me at the hospital, sleeping in a reclining chair. By Thursday, he was planning to go back to the hotel if we didn't go home.
Nurses came and went in day-and-night procession: Joneth, Kerri, Michelle, Lisa, Angie. There were more, but I can't remember everyone by name. They were great to us! The excellent nursing staff really made my stay comfortable and as pleasant as possible.
By Tuesday, the doctor was hinting that I could go home if my leg would stop draining. We couldn't believe our ears! We started praying, and I asked Josiah to post a prayer request to the blog for us.
Wednesday, 4/25 and Thursday, 4/26: I Wanna Go Home!
By Wednesday, I was coherent enough (and tired enough of being poked, prodded, and molested) to start begging to come home. My leg kept draining, though, and this slowed us down.
I talked to Zach (and all of the other kids) on the phone each evening. On Wednesday night, he said, "I don't understand! Didn't they fix your leg?" "Yes, Zach." "Then why can't you just get your walker, walk out of the hospital, get in the van, and come home?" Oh, Zach ... If only it were that simple. If only.
Thursday morning started terribly with a failed attempt to draw blood from my port, followed by EIGHT sticks by THREE nurses in a attempt to coax blood from my bruised and battered veins. Finally, I cried and prayed out loud while Angie, our final nurse, found a vein on my left wrist that would sputter a little blood into the tubes.
This happened in tandem with the doctor's morning visit, where he announced that my leg was STILL draining too much to go home. I gave an emotional plea, promising him that I would be much more active at home and that would help me heal more quickly. He promised to check with Dr. Holt.
Thursday morning was a low point for me, emotionally and physically. PT came, and I half-heartedly hiked the hallway in my green and brown plaid bare-butt special and then sat in the chair. I decided to pass some time by washing my hair and sponge bathing. At lunch time, I returned to my bed.
The social worker, who had arranged delivery of my hospital bed for me, stopped by and asked why I was still there. I explained that I was waiting for the final verdict. She paged the surgeon's group, and less than 20 minutes later, the doctor who saw me on rounds every day was in the doorway. He didn't say a word, but he grinned and made a "get out of here" motion with his thumb.
We were absolutely thrilled! I looked at Don, and there were tears of joy rising in his eyes. He started gathering our things together just as lunch arrived. Angie, our nurse, made sure that he got a sandwich tray before we left.
We hit the road about 2:30 ET yesterday for the trip home. We wedged my leg in with a pillow. I was worried about pain, but the trip home was pretty easy, in spite of the heavy rain.
Today, 4/27 begins a new chapter.
Physically, I am weak and sore, but doing well overall. My lungs are clear, my NIL is cranky but solid, my bp has stabilized. The Lord really blessed me with fast healing and a SHORT hospital stay. Everything went well here at the house, and we were thrilled to be reunited with the kids. I keep pinching myself to believe that we're home, and the surgery is BEHIND us now.
I have been up once already today and am getting ready to get up again and stir around.
The road ahead will be steep and rocky, but it's not our first climb. I am standing (standing!) at the base of the mountain, looking up, ready to take that first tentative step into the future. I hope you'll hang around for the journey.
That's what I'm planning to do!
