Battle #1 - Hard Fought and Won!

A battlefield report from General Smith:

It's Tuesday, June 4th and I roll out of bed at 4:30 am to prepare for battle #1. There actually isn't much for me to do today except keep positive and give all my trust to my surgical team. By 5:30 am, my brother and I are on the road to Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center and are in good spirits. We arrive a little later than planned - 6:45 instead of 6:30 - thanks to traffic on the Tobin Bridge, but all in all, so far everything is as scheduled.

I'm brought into the preparation area, where I change into a hospital gown, non-slip socks, and a very attractive paper cap - I am looking hot, hot, hot. (Sarcasm!)  I then meet with the various members of my surgical team: the attending surgeon, the resident surgeon, the training surgeon, the attending anesthesiologist, the resident anesthesiologist, and a bevy of nurses. Each and every one of these medicos are confident, funny, positive, and competent. I know that am in good hands. I learn that my hematocrit levels are still pretty low (28%) but they've got blood on standby just in case. By 8am, all the paperwork is done and the initial drugs are given. I am wheeled into the OR and scooch across the gurney onto the operating table. I don't remember anything after that until I wake up 3 hours later in recovery.  

The recovery room is a cavernous space separated by curtains into individual compartments. The patient in the bed next to mine is snoring up a storm. Thought: "Wow, wonder if they thought to check out that person's nasal septum." I meet my recovery room nurse who is this amazingly dedicated veteran nurse. We chat off and on but mostly I'm left to rest and recoup. But there's a problem. Around 1:00, the recovery room nurse starts noticing that I'm bleeding a lot heavier than normal. Not a good sign. By 2:00, she's getting a little more concerned and refuses to send me to my hospital room just yet. She wants a surgeon to check out the bleeding situation but they're all in surgery. So I must wait.  But I'm pretty good at waiting, therefore, I keep myself and my nurse amused with ridiculous stories and jokes.

By 4:00 pm, the surgeons are out of the OR and the resident surgeon comes to check me out. She too is concerned with the amount of blood loss. After an examination, it is determined that there might be a small laceration in the wall of my va-jay-jay and that I will need to return to the OR. Because of course, that is exactly what everyone wants to have - 2 invasive surgeries in one day.  Preparations begin again for surgery - paperwork, drugs, etc.  This time they are much more concerned about the low blood levels so I will be getting a transfusion during the 2nd surgery. Of course, the inevitable jokes fly about how I just couldn't get enough of my surgical team and wanted to have some more good times in surgery.  We are a funny, funny group - the surgical staff and I.  By 5:00 pm, I'm back in surgery.  Again, I remember the scooch across the gurney to the table - a comment is made by the attending anesthesiologist about how good I am at that move and, then, I'm out like the proverbial light bulb.

An hour later and I'm back in recovery. The attending surgeon informs me that there was a small laceration which just needed a couple of stitches and now it's all fixed and I'm golden. I then spend another 3 hours in recovery, receiving 2 more transfusions and being monitored that all is well. Finally, around 9:00 pm, I am moved from the recovery room to my hospital room. You cannot imagine the incredible boredom of being stuck in recovery for 10 hours!!!  But I am so grateful for my recovery room nurse for being so incredibly observant that she picked up on the problem so it could be dealt with immediately.

Battle #1 in the Cancer War is now completed and won. It was a more difficult battle than anticipated, but all in all, it could have been worse.  The pain is fairly bad, but lots of good drugs and a boatload of chocolate help.  What is the worse part of all of this?  Yes, the 2nd surgery sucked. Yes, being under anesthesia and intubated twice was horrendous. Yes, the pain is sometimes unbearable. Yes, not being able to drive for 2 weeks is not fun.  Worse than all of that - I gained 10 pounds in the hospital!!!  How that is possible when I ate nearly nothing for 3 days? It is due to the water weight gain because of the IVs that I had for 2 days. ARGH!  Nothing in my closet fits.  I know this weight gain will pass but until then, I feel and look like the Michelin Man.  :-)

What I would like to do is give some much deserved thanks the entire staff at Beth Israel who were extraordinarily dedicated, kind, and caring. They are some of the most amazing people and I couldn't have been in better hands. Their caring and attendance toward my health and welfare was astounding and superb.  I couldn't have asked for better people in whom I could entrust my life. Thank you to the entire Smith Surgical and Recovery Team!  You are my heroes and heroines.

This was my view for 10 hours in recovery -
a supply closet!  Talk about boring!