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Friday, November 8, 2013

Through the NIght and into The Daylight

Ronnie the day shift RN was on duty when I got to my room. Change of shift bought Marleen who stuck around until 0700 hrs this morning. I swallowed two Lortab 7.5's and nixed on the usual Ambien. 

Marleen was in and out of the room most of the night checking on me and clearing the drains. My pain is not severe and is easily covered by the pain meds. I drifted into and out of sleep, the television my constant. I watched a typhoon   sweep into the Phillipines and drifted off to wake to a Hoover swirling over a dirty carpet. Viewing shows in this order left me thinking I might be hallucinating. 

When it was time for the next dose of medicine, I asked for an order of toast thinking it would be better to not take medicnes on an empty stomach. The toast was awesome, the Lortab taken and 1 hr. later I was vomiting. This didn't work out as I thought it would.

My breakfast tray had arrived and Ronnie was back on duty. He asked if I wanted my tray. "I'm starved!" I say and the tray was delivered. The sausage and cheese omelet were special and 1 hr. later I was vomiting again. The husband passed me the emesis basin and bolted for the door. I had rang for the nurse and he was on his way again.  Cold towels, air stirred with a paper book and a mouth rinse and I was back to normal. As soon as this event passes, I feel great. No weakness; no nausea and never much warning when it starts. I have just enough time to warn the husband so he can get on his track shoes and break all records getting away!

Louise, my RN friend, came to visit. She investigated the drains as nurses will do, and that whoosh of air passing by was the husband exiting the room once again. Just the sight of the drains was enough to make him vanish. In his  defense, he is very good on helping me up, cooking, cleaning and attend to anything to do with sickness that doesn't involve actual body contact. I'm not worried. I can milk the drains, measure and record them. The daughter says she will be here to do it this afternoon but I fear she is no more at ease then the husband on this. I'll assure her I can take care of this. I appreciate her wanting to do this for me but I can handle it if she gets queasy. I'll let them open the medicine bottles for me and change the linens and avoid drainages.

I'm home now and investigating what I can do for myself. I CAN get in and out of bed without help much to my relief. I can get dressed by myself and toilet myself. I'm thrilled that I can do these things for myself on Day 1 post op. 

I am spending the afternoon in bed catching up on sleep missed last night and that's what I am going to do as soon as this sentence if finished! CIAO!!

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Resetting My Clock

April and the husband alternated with sitting beside me in holding. More paperwork, an IV started and Lactated Ringers hanging, I'm waiting.  Versed was pushed, a pre op to relax and time passed along.
An hour passes and the curtain surrounding my bed parted, the metal rings it was tracked on sang out it's metallic warning. The surgeon stepped inside and pulled the curtain closed behind him.  He came to tell me and apologize for what he had to say. Jason, his son was doing a thyroid surgery at the hospital across the road and requested he assist him. Apparently, unexpected  complications and he wanted the best surgeon in town, his dad, to come. Doc tried to get his nurse to come and deliver this news to me but she bowed out and in he came.

He quickly discussed the change in what he wanted to do related to the incisions, answered my questions, gave me a hug and was on his way after I reassured him I had nothing else planned for today and to take his time helping his son. I've worked with many of the physicians in this town and there are  some doctors that are home town boys and are tender and much concerned about their patients and this is one of them. The last time he did surgery on me, I was a nursing student.

An hour passed, rough estimate because the Versed dose was repeated and I was unusually charming and agreeable when the curtains parted again and I was whisked into the surgery suite. Positioning, lights, camera and action, I woke in recovery, groggy and asking for my family. In and out of consciousness, stabilized, I was wheeled to my guest room. This place really feels much like a hotel instead of a hospital. The nurses here have two patients to care for and they have plenty of time and attention.
Morphine IVP (IV push) was slipped into the port of my IV line. The incision site is uncomfortable. I'm not in heavy pain; it burns a bit, feels sore and thats it! Im wearing a bustier, eye hooks lined up down the middle to keep it in  place. Two JP (Jackson Pratt) drains attached to each side of it with safey pins.

When the nurse came in to strip or milk the lines and empty them, the husband rushed out of the room. He didn't walk..he RUSHED. I'm afraid he will never study in the medical field and that's ok. The daughter has the same aversion to anything connected to blood, guts and mucous.

The chicken noodle soup and jello was awesome; the first food and drink since yesterday. It's amazing that a simple bowl of soup, a cup of jello and some ice cold apple juice could impart so much joy!

I've been offered another morphine cocktail for dessert but I passed on it. I did agree to the Lortab though. As soon as my nose started itching, I knew it had kicked in.

I thought I wanted the husband to spend the night but I took pity on him after seeing his vinyl covered chair/bed and insisted that he go home.

I know that I promised I would call you this evening and I have made a few calls but I'm not too zippy with conversation. I drift in and out of sleep. Before the next Lortab is due, I decided I would blog this in the event  I was in drift mode.

I'm very susceptible to drugs and althoughLortab is not the king of pain killers, it still sets me on my butt when I take it.  I appreciate that I don't have to have heavy drugs.

It is now 2100 hrs...and I've voided; a very big accomplishment towards my nurse getting rid of the IV pole and fluids. I'm ready to settle down for the night. If this posting is in any way weird...please excuse.







Tic Toc....Time's up!!

It is now almost 0600 hrs. My mouth feels as though I've crammed it full of cotton balls. The tags on the lamp, the fridge and the coffee pot reminds me that I'm not allowed to drink anything.

I have to be at the surgery center in 2 hrs and 15 minutes. My next stop will be a shower and dressed.

How do I feel? I wavier between relief that this part of my journey has arrived and will soon propel me into the next part of this trip I must take to a few tears.
 My health worker background causes me to question every step I travel and will it all be just wasted effort. I suppose that's my main hangup about doing any of this. Sometimes being "blissfully ignorant" would be a relief from my mind that never stops reeling.

Yesterday I was pleasantly surprised by the phone calls and visits I received. Friends from Wyoming, family from WV, Texas, and Arizona made phone calls or left messages on Facebook and Facebook friends posted their good wishes. Thank you one and all.

Tic toc..it's time.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Options and Choice, Tic Toc

"Ya know, if you can read, you can do anything." I impressed upon my daughter as a young child this belief. I listen quietly as she passes this along to her own children. Carrie is in the very upper, possibility  the best reader in her class. Carrie and I started early. (see prior post). At three years old we held a school as part of her daily play. We sat around the coffee table and had our pretend classes. Along with learning to NOT speak unless she was given permission by holding up her hand, we studied the alphabet. We didn't over do it by staying with it for hours at a time. Short classes were held.
By the time Carrie entered kindergarten, she was almost reading. Had I known about popcorn words, I think I could have had her make the connection and the segue into full sentences. I had an "ah ha" moment when she bought home her kindergarten homework and the list of popcorn words. Those popcorn words had to be memorized. "the, and, but, or, and a whole list of them was studied every day. Within a few weeks Carrie could read a book and I was one relieved Nana.
Carrie and her siblings can do anything as they are avid readers; they read easily so they don't struggle with that part of information gathering. Being an easy reader makes comprehension of those words within their grasp.

I've seen people struggle through a paragraph trying to decipher the words and in doing that, do not comprehend what they have read.

"If you can read, you can do anything." I still sing this out as I still believe reading is a most important part of ones school life.

On that note, I'm reading. Researching and gathering information. Tic toc, it's almost time. Tomorrow I go into surgery. My choices are limited now on reconstruction. It's not that I'm hell bent on reconstruction but it's the restrictions on my options that bother me. I may not even want that option, but I would like to still have the choice.

Have I confused you? I read some more on the TRAM flap and I don't want to go there. When I read that John Hopkins no longer does them, I'm sure I don't want to go there. The complications of that surgery and the possibility of a large bulge in the abdomen from removing the muscle there to transfer it to the breast is some place I don't want to go. Removing that muscle also restricts the persons ability to lift anything over 20 lbs. That person would have to roll over onto their stomachs to just get OUT of bed. Getting up from a chair would be a struggle.  Any action  requiring stomach muscles to move would be compromised. Breasts are NOT that important.

 I read some more. And some more. There are more options opening up and the DIEP and/or fat cell reconstructions are still choices that are having good results while new procedures are in the near future.

I want to be one of those women that just "don't need" to have this done. Unfortunately I won't know that until sometime after this surgery. I feel better. It's some measure of control.

As an RN, we were trained to offer the patient as much control of their own care as possible. Some procedures were not "a choice"  so it was important to offer choices when possible. We knew body image was an important part of a patient's well being. I am curious as to how I will feel on this. I know how I feel now about "control". In this past year, I have lost most of that. Making the appointments, and taking the chemo and all the oral medications, I'm floating down a river without a paddle. I follow the directions given me without hesitation. I may not enjoy this trip but it's mandatory. "Plan B is not an option."  I can still hear my husband whispering that to me.

Tomorrow's surgery is Plan A because Plan B is not an option. 

Tic Toc, I'm ready.