Faithfully Fighting

The Surgery Story

lynnwv | October 29, 2008 10:29

I promised to write about the surgery and trip to UVA.  It was, surprisingly, a pretty positive experience.

 

We went down on Weds 10/15 for the pre-op testing and to see the surgeon.  It was a beautiful day, sun shining in the 70s  and I kept thinking that this surgery was a ridiculous idea.  I felt better than I had in months, what am I thinking.  Anyway we saw the doctor, a very gentle man who explained to me, once again very patiently, why the surgery was necessary. 

 

After the doctor’s appointment Pete and I asked the doctor where we should go for a nice supper.  He suggested the “Downtown Mall”.  So after all the tests at the hospital we headed off to what turned out to be similar to Winchester’s Old Town just bigger.  We had a lovely time walking around, eating dinner and then trying the authentic gelato.  Pete said it reminded him of Rome, and I wished we were there.  It was a lovely evening.

 

On Friday morning the weather matched my mood perfectly.  It was raining cats and dogs as I boarded the bus from the hospitality house to the hospital at 8:00 in the morning.  They had told me that I had to be at the surgical waiting room at 8:30 am. The surgical waiting room is the size of a ball room in a hotel, and it was packed with people. It was mind boggling how many surgeries they were doing on that one day.  After an interminable hour wait they called my name and Pete accompanied me up to the 2nd floor surgical prep area.  This is where things started moving.  In my previous surgeries, earlier this year, this prep stuff seemed to take forever, but at UVA everything went into high gear.  I barely had time to go to the bathroom again and they were putting the funny hat on me and I’d seen at least 3 doctors (anesthesiologist, surgical residents, etc)  Next thing I know I’m ready to go, Pete prayed with me and kissed me goodbye, and I’m rolling down the hall.  This may be blurred by the fact that as soon as I signed my anesthesia paperwork they gave me the happy medicine.  I’ve never gotten it so quickly before and may I say I recommend this procedure.  Just a personal preference, but it eliminates all those questions and fears and life is a little easier as you face very scary stuff.  I used to be opposed to all that stuff, but as things pile up in life I don’t think there is anything wrong with professionally medical administered calming medicine.  I remember someone saying “Ok, Lynn we’re going to put you to sleep now.”  I said a quick prayer in my head for the surgeons (there were at least 15 people in the room at this point-who knew who was who!).  The next thing I knew I heard a voice saying “Hey Lynn, you did great, we are going to take you to your room.”  The clock on the wall said 3:45.  Wow, what a way to loose a day!  I always love it when they say “you did great” after surgery.  I want to say, ‘yes, I am an expert at laying still in a drug induced slumber, I’ve spent years perfecting my technique’. 

           

I knew it was good news when my Mom, Dad and Pete all came into the room with big smiles on their faces.  Now, I had already asked the recovery room crowd if I had a colostomy bag and they had smiled and said no you don’t.  So, I knew that the colon must not have been badly damaged.  My Mom leaned over my bed and told me that the doctor had come down to talk to them for quite and while and he was very pleased that the mass in the fallopian tube had been smaller than they had thought, that the tube had actually folded over the area and that had made it look bigger on the CT than it actually was.  The power of prayer is amazing!!  God is so good!!  Soon after that my wonderful surgeon came in to see me.  He told me he had done the full hysterectomy and there had only been a small attachment of the tube to the colon and he was able to separate that without any problems.  He also said that he’d taken samples of the fat around the stomach where cancer likes to hide, just to make sure there wasn’t any hiding there.  He told me he’d be off over the weekend, but the head of the department would be checking on me and he’d see me on Monday. 

           

Of course I woke up Saturday feeling pretty beat up.  Well, I didn’t exactly wake up, I was kind of up and down, up and down, because it was the nosiest night I’ve ever spent in a hospital.  There must have been a new doctor standing at my bed every 3 hours.  At 6:00 am a very young man came in and introduced himself.  He said he was a medical student and asked if he could ask me a few questions. Apparently this was the morning ritual.  The medical student wakes you, checks all important items over the last 24 hours, then about 45 minutes later one or two Residents will fly into the room separately ask you, pretty much, the same questions then disappear.  An hour after that a crowd of folks (some of the same Residents and the medical student in the rear) come bustling into the room.  I’m introduced to the “fellow” of the gynecological surgical department, who smiles brightly and apparently is the speaker for the group.  He asks me all the same  questions again and then tells me that I’ll get my little helper (catheter) removed this morning and will be able to walk to the bathroom, but no running the halls (titter of laughter from the group) my body needs to rest to heal.  I nod my head like a faithful patient bobble head and wonder how these children see me.  Am I their mother figure looking brave who they can’t wait to see up and around, am I a number on a chart full of surgery jargon and medical mumbo jumbo, or am the old lady whose fighting for her life come to be saved by them?  I ask if I can start drinking water and they agree with a big smile and nod.  I realize it’s probably the latter, what power they must feel.

 

Apparently I did very well. As Saturday passed I was determined (as usual) to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible. By the end of the day I was getting out of bed alone (very, very slowly) and had walked the hall once, with help.  Sunday morning the same young doctor ritual happened and my keepers were overwhelmingly pleased with my progress.  Dr. Fellow mentioned that if I didn’t live so far away he might even consider sending me home.  I wasn’t sure how my surgeon would feel about that, even though I kind of like the idea.  My nurse (an angel from God), named Bridget, seemed to agree.  She and I hit it off right away.  I didn’t ask too much of her (I’ve found in the past if you let them do their job they are much friendlier) and she went above and beyond everything I could have every wanted.  I really believe she was sent to me as a gift.  She also knew my doctor very well and made suggestions that he would like, walking once up the hall on Saturday, but not too much.  Drinking lots of water, sitting in the chair as long as I felt strong, taking my pain medicine (once my button was removed Sunday afternoon) if I had any pain (apparently my doctor doesn’t like his patients to ‘tough it out’, he thinks we heal better if we can be as pain free as possible).    She thought Sunday was too early to go home.

 

Later in the morning Dr. fellow returned with the head of the entire department.  Now I expected him to be in and out in 5 minutes (after all he had every student in the department checking the same questions and looking at my ver long belly cut) and being stuffy, head doctorish.  I was very wrong. He sat on my bed and we had a pleasant talk (thank you pain medicine).  As he was getting ready to leave I commented on how thoughtful everyone had been and he said something I don't think I'll ever forget.  He said he often gets asked why he does oncology work, people comment that it must be so depressing.  He said he tells them that some doctors can go for weeks without seeing someone that is really sick, or really needs help, but in his field he has the opportunity to help people every day.  Sometimes he can make them all better and sometimes he can only help them live longer with less pain, but in all cases there is something he can do.  It makes him feel like he is doing something good and that is what he got into the business of healing to do.  I can’t get over how that makes me feel, it is wonderful that this man instructs future oncology doctors how to treat women. 

 

My surgeon came in early on Monday (after the usually parade of student/doctors) and was pleased with me.  He really is a lovely man.  I have a soft spot for gentle men and he is one.  He was happy to send me home, but told me not to do too much.  By the time Mom and Dad and Pete got there at 10:00  I was ready to go.  It was a bit of a long ride, even on my Vicoden, but my bed never felt so good.

           

I feel really blessed.  The Lord’s presence was around me the entire time(as always) and I accepted His embrace.  I cannot express the gifts I have received.  Thank you for your prayers.  I love you all.

 

 

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