Getting Cut Open and Stitched Back Together
Pre-Op
There are three holes in my lower abdomen that weren't there yesterday. I've been told that there is also a fair amount of surgical mesh covering the holes in abdominal muscles. Oh, and some staples and stitches too.
All of this from running. And all of this so I can run again. Soon, I hope.
Dr. Hilarious, aware of my fondness for medical practitioners who share my follicle challenges and who have ironic names, referred me to a Dr. Harmon. Of course.
So Do-no-Harmon met with me last week to talk through the surgery.
Main Points:
-He does hundreds of these surgeries a year. He's never killed anyone.
-Laparoscopic surgery: In through the belly button with a scope, and with the tools on either side of the lower abdomen.
-No one knows the frequency of recurrence after surgery, because dudes are stupid. Chances are that a lot of guys who suffer a recurrence blame the surgeon and go to someone else.
-Rather than stitching muscle together, surgical mesh is stretched over the giant, gaping hole in my gut and the muscle is supposed to grow over it. After 2 weeks, the mesh is 75% covered. At 3 weeks, 95%.
-It's gonna hurt.
Day of Operation
Just in case I died on the table, The Colleague and I met some former students of mine for what I want my last meal to be: sushi. As much as possible. As fresh as possible. After that, it was no food or drink after midnight.
So, Dr. Hilarious referred me to Dr. Harmon. The Colleague (h) drove me to the surgery center, where the anesthesiologist (Dr. Hardy) gave me the drugs.
General anesthesia has to be one of the weirdest experiences a person can have.
Dr. Hardy says, "Ok, you're going to get a little woozy." Next thing I know I'm waking up in a different room. 2 hours went by. Dr. do-no Harmon cut into me and stitched me back together while a med student watched the show. And I woke up like not one second passed. 2 hours gone.
By the time I saw The Colleague again, I was pretty much ready to roll. I wasn't babbling like a drugged up lunatic (though apparently I asked for the anesthesiologist's name at some point...what the hell?), I didn't ask anyone to marry me, and as far as I know I didn't embarrass myself.
I went into the surgery center at 8:30 a.m. and was home in bed by 1:00 p.m. Not bad.
The Day After
The Colleague is off for an oil-baroness meeting in Montana today, so I am at The Shack tending to myself, trying to move around as much as possible, and thinking about getting some work done, though concentration is not my strong suit at the moment. I sent one work-related email this morning that I probably shouldn't have. I'll wait until I'm off the dope to do anything else in that arena.
They ask you to measure pain on a scale of 1-10. Ok. At the moment, even with the narcotics, we're talking about a 5. Without? Not good.
One Other Thing
- We started actual work on the Cape Dory last weekend. Check it out: http://capedory27.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment