Post-op world

I think I have finally scraped together enough tube-free fingers and relatively drug-free brain to take another stab at this.

It was truly a blessing to have surgery sprung on me as a last-minute agenda item.  No time to worry about things.  Now I can get on with whatever comes next.  Short term goals are pooping and getting my nose tube removed.  Did I just write "pooping"?  It is a really big deal here and people fling it around the hospital (the term, not the poop) with a joy that is much greater than mere discussion of passing gas (though that is a big deal too).  I apologize to you, dear readers, for just putting the term out there like that.  We don't usually talk about our poop in the real world. I won't mention it again even though I really knocked a certain goal out of the park this afternoon at about 1:22 while humming the Star Spangled Banner.

The nose tube is my number one enemy.  They used to merely insert them (to promote drainage below the cut parts) but now they actually suture them to your nose because so many people just pulled the tubes out themselves because they are so uncomfortable.  I can't tell you how many times in a day that some one accidentally snags your nose tube on the corner of a piece of furniture or the edge of your stylish gown or anything else with 3 dimensions.   Sure, pulling on that nose suture really hurts but the tube itself also makes it hard to talk, gives you a sore throat, hinders the gross globs that you are try to eject from your windpipe and often just gives off a burning sensation.  The tube also does lots of good things too but I don't care to learn what they are.  With a bit of luck and a successful "swallowing study", the nose tube comes out tomorrow.  So my main goal for Tuesday is to have a successful swallowing study and a bit of luck.  Then I can start living!

So if you are like me, you are wondering, "What is a swallowing study?" I asked this very question to Dr. McCahill. It's pretty simple.  I'm not sure why it qualifies for a moniker like "study". An esophagectomy involves cutting out the middle bad part (which is your entire esophagus and a bit of your stomach) and sewing... excuse me, I mean suturing ...the two good end parts together.  That seam is not supposed to leak.  If it does, it could lead to infection or other complications.  So a swallowing study involves drinking a radioactive milkshake and then taking an x-ray to confirm whether or not you have radioactive milkshake spilling into your guts (bad) or merely sliding gently down the gastric-intestinal system (good).  Come to think of it, any test that involves x-rays and radioactivity probably automatically should be called a "study".

So until I pass this "study" nothing goes down the throat. I can dab my tongue with a cold, wet sponge but no swallowing.  I have a liquid ham sandwich of some sort going straight into my small intestine via J-tube.  Even when I salivate at the thought of food, I have to spit it out into a convenient omelet-shaped tray.  This can/will change tomorrow.  Then I can supplement J-tube with a liquid diet and gradually, over weeks, work up to a real ham sandwich.  Crap, I'm drooling again!

I also want to mention time and relativity again.  It is incredible how slowly time passes.  Typically, I would think of this as a good thing.  We all want more time.  But when your goal is healing, you lie there and watch the minute-hand creep its way around the clock face and you wonder whether you can ask for more pain meds... usually the answer to that seems to always be "not yet".  So you try to sleep and you wake up and 40 minutes has passed.  Seriously?  It is still today?  It has been today forever!  For everyone else on regular time, I'm healing quickly.  But for me, I have to learn how to pass a given minute of a day.  Shall I take a walk, which usually leads to a labored cough and if I am lucky, it is a cough that lets me breath easier?  That walk also leads to soreness and exhaustion so maybe I'll just close my eyes for a while instead. Gradually I'm learning that all effort leads to positive outcomes.  Active healing beats passive healing.  If I can do something good for myself, the rewards outweigh the costs. This is a slow boat I'm on.

The other thing I feel compelled to mention are the visions (Hallucinations? Mini-dreams?)  I know that some of my pain meds are narcotics but I also wonder about the brain's natural imaging system.  Certainly that is one ingredient in the mix and I'm not always sure that it is drugs that are bringing pictures to my closed eyes. Most often I see faces; sometimes gruesome, disfigured faces.  Always faces in nature-paintings and carpet patterns.  Often it is like a movie and I'm viewing the next shot. Someone in the room says something and I close my eyes and see them walk across the room but when I open my eyes again, they are still sitting in the same place.  I hear a name, I see that person smiling at me.  Today my sister Betsy left the room to take a phone call and I noticed the reflection of an Asian couple watching a futuristic video monitor that wasn't there.  Weird stuff.  The weirdest came last night.  I had asked for a sleeping pill to help get me through the long night and so they crushed up an Ambien and gave it to me through my feeding tube. My pleasantly weird visions turned disturbingly weird and ultimately, paranoid. I tried to turn it off by turning on the TV but I couldn't find the remote control.  So of course I did the next worst thing and dream-dialed Alice in California.  I knew she would still be up.  (Hell, she'd still be up if she was on the East Coast!) I just needed to hear her familiar voice and tell me that it was all OK.  She did and it was.  I'm quite sure my nose tube-impaired, paranoid, dream voice from thousands of miles away probably freaked her out.  She did not let on.   Just what I needed.

A quick shout-out to all of my family members who are able who have held vigil over this semi-crazy, healing person.  They think there needs to be a sane person in the corner of my room at all times.  They may be right.  It has to be incredibly boring and yet they keep showing up!  My family and friend support has been outstanding!  Also special thanks to all my friends who recognize I need space to be crazy in.  Remember, it is going to be boring for me for a long time and I appreciate those who can send a cheery, supportive message now and save a visit for a time when I can talk too.

Time to drain my drool tray.  I hope no one has read this far.