You can take this tube and shove it!

12 hours after surgery. What else you got?











When is one IV ever really enough








It's just after three in the morning, which also happens to be the cutoff time for me to take a leak on my own into one of those plastic hospital jugs. Why is that important? Because since they pulled out my catheter eight hours ago, which Clark thoroughly enjoyed watching, and if I had not produced 400mL, the catheter had to go back in. Let's just leave that at it's something you don’t won't performed unless you're asleep under anesthesia for surgery. TMI?? Of course it is!

So why did they pull out the catheter early? Answer: because the stupid epidural for pain management finally got voted off the island after slipping through way to many pain assessment elimination ceremonies. The result of that scenario: my handling the pain with only my normal home meds and a little red pillow to squeeze on when it hurt. And when I say hurt, I'm referring to the pain caused by both the surgery itself and a rather large drainage tube souvenir stuck directly into the surgery site and between a couple of ribs before existing my body. When I first woke up and they realized the epidural (which was later found to be ineffective) wasn't even running, I received a high dose of IV pain meds to help the situation. A situation which hurt too bad to breathe, move, lie still, or even moan. Not as bad as jerking directly on my exposed median nerve, but up there nonetheless as far as experiences I wouldn't even wish upon the guys who shot Tupac or Biggie...well, maybe those guys.

So what's going on at 3am? Just typing while I'm briefly awake long enough to have my vital signs taken and hit the buttons on my PCA machine containing hydromorphine to effectively relieve the pain and help me fall back asleep. The new pain management system is great and so far I've been lucky to have three of the best nurses I've had here take care of me this time. Actually and coincidentally, I’m fading fast.

The tumor was removed without any unexpected complications. It didn’t look like regular lung cancer, and the pathology on the nodule should be back next week to verify it being a Triton. The chuck of lung taken was about the size of half a stick of butter. Speaking of sticks of butter, Fleming brought cupcakes that Kirk made. We all had one to celebrate her birthday and my surgeon graciously took the last one later that day during his rounds upon learning they were homemade. I think that should cover it at this time. I’m seeing double and this post took almost two hours to write (probably an hour to finish the last paragraph) on account of numerous typos but mainly my falling asleep at least half a dozen or so times. They upped my pain medication delivery while I was writing. More pics to follow and several new ones on the Triton Photos. I might get out of here today. Ash is sleeping next to me in the recliner. I just fell asleep again holding the delete button and lost 1/3 of this. Thank God for the undo feature and with that, thank God for another safely completed surgery.

And thanks to you all for the multitude of kindness we’ve received, especially over the past month.

CP

9:15pm Post Script We made it out today after lunch. The criteria for being discharged includes using the bathroom, holding down liquids and solid foods, standing and walking on your own, and completing a little paperwork. If you get all that finished and the docs think you're good to go, you are...and I was. Quite a laundry list of everyday things to go home to enjoy everyday things. Tonight we're napping, eating take out, and watching a movie...a wonderful list to celebrate coming home.

On a final thought, here are a couple of shots of me and my beloved PCA machine. PCA stands for "Patient Controlled Analgeisa," allowing the patient to administer the pain medication as needed in a safe dose. Judging from the completely unexaggerated look on my face, I'd hate to see what a dangerous dose would be....