A Surgical Story Part Two: The Fateful Fart

One of the hardest times of being a parent is killing time, sitting in a waiting room lobby while your child is undergoing surgery several floors above you. Just as we had been assured would happen, the surgeon came to see us once our son was in the recovery room and explained what he did and that everything went well. We were very impressed with this gentlemen when we met him for the first time at our consultation. This man knows his business and travels the world to educate and help others to perfect this particular surgery. My son liked him right from the start and felt quite comfortable. Yes, yes. This was the one he wanted to take care of his problem.

Our arrival up to his hospital room coincided with our son being wheeled down the hall from recovery en route to the room. I had forgotten how people look fresh out of recovery and after taking once glance at him I felt like bursting into tears of relief, joy, empathy and shock at his appearance because I'm a menopausal, sentimental old fool and one can only hold things in for so long. However, I pulled myself together rapidly to present a brave face as we accompanied him through the door. My recollection is a very pale young man on oxygen lying supine on a bed, a nasogastric tube down one side of his nose and a Foley catheter hanging from the side of the bed. The oxygen and catheter were taken away immediately after settling him in his room. My husband does not concur with this memory and only agrees with the N.G. tube. Perhaps I was hallucinating. After all, I'd only been up since 4 AM that morning and it was now going on 3 PM.

As he began to come around a little more, it was that tube that was causing him the most distress. I've only seen N.G. tubes carrying nourishment into the stomach of individuals not able to swallow. Evidently it works in the opposite direction as well because this was drawing some nasty looking stuff out of his stomach. The presence and discomfort of this tube seemed to be worse for him than any incisions lower down. That tube had to go and thankfully before too much more time went by, one of the nurses got the orders to pull it out. The next chief complaint was a sore shoulder and neck. God knows what position they had him in during surgery but whatever it was left its mark after almost three hours of surgery. Some nice, friendly morphine took care of these problems and the ever increasing pain at the surgical site. As he drifted into a mildly drug-induced state, we drifted out of the room knowing he was in good hands and there was nothing more we could do for the time being. An eighteen year old doesn't really want Mom hovering about but takes great comfort in knowing that she's going to be only a phone call away.

When we returned the next morning, our son was up and sitting on the edge of the bed looking a whole lot more like himself. As usual with such surgeries, he was started on a liquid diet and one look at the breakfast tray on his side table told me he hadn't taken in a thing. He was still hooked up to a saline drip bag and at this point had eaten about one spoonful of putrid looking green Jello and some ice chips. He had no appetite at all, not surprisingly, and the chicken broth, apple juice, hot tea, and the ubiquitous Jello (multi-colored this time) did nothing to spur things on.

The nurses impressed upon him he needed to at least drink water. By this time, he'd had enough of the "hospital experience" and just wanted to go home. On a regular basis, the nurse appeared to check vital signs, listen for bowel sounds and inquire about his level of pain. Apparently it was bearable because he never asked for any additional pain reliever after receiving the last infusion of morphine which had worn off long since. We were assured his gut was making good bowel sounds but what they were really waiting for was evidence of, ah...flatulence. That's right, one good fart and you're out of here, kid! Then everyone's sure things are moving along and all systems are, if you excuse the pun, go. As you can imagine it's hard to get things going when there's nothing in your stomach to get. A nurse offered him a choice of some cereal or a piece of bread and peanut butter. He chose the latter. It was the creamy variety too. What luck, his favorite. It took him more than 30 minutes to get that slice of bread down.

He'd been in and out of the restroom a lot throughout the day because that bag of slightly salted water somehow created gallons of liquid. The hours were ticking by and finally through the closed door following yet another trip to the john, our son announced that the much anticipated event had occurred. Houston...we have lift off. Honestly, the balance of our private little planet was hanging on this one little phffft. It took about another two hours after this before we were officially discharged and on our way home. We live several counties away but for insurance purposes, this entire process had to been done in San Francisco. I knew the ride home was going to be long and hard on the patient. No matter how hard you try, it's impossible to avoid all the bumps, twists and turns on the road and traveling along at a good clip to keep up with traffic. The weather had been very hot the short time we were away and once we finally walked through our front door around 7 PM Saturday night, the house was hot and stuffy and...hot. My son flopped down onto the sofa. Within five minutes he was back up and in the bathroom...vomiting. Hell, I thought, we're right back where we started. We set the patient up on the sofa bed in the living room, got some Gatorade into him and pointed a box fan in his direction. It was all uphill from that moment on. The ride and the heat and a great deal of pent-up anxiety were to blame for this backward slide.

It's Tuesday afternoon now and I'm pleased to say he's doing just fine. His appetite's back, his discomfort seems to be minimal, if not non existent, and aside from taking two Tylenol Sunday evening for a headache (once again, from the hot weather), he has taken nothing else post surgery. All systems are working well and now he's better than new. Literally!

A Surgical Story Part One: The Modus Operandi

All hail the marvels of modern medical technology. Four short days ago, my son was wheeled into a hospital room from the recovery room looking quite green around the gills and looking like it would be some time before he would be up and around. By the time Sunday night came around (and he'd been home a mere 24 hours), he said his stomach felt like it does after completing the last of 100 sit-ups. By Monday morning, this number was reduced to 25. Not bad for gastrointestinal surgery; not bad at all. Frankly, I'm amazed.

Last Friday, July 7, my son underwent laparoscopic surgery to have repaired whatever it was that was making him vomit on a regular basis two to three times a week. This was occurring at the same time, early morning, and once he was finished he felt fine and life went on normally until the next bout. If this had been my teenaged daughter, I would've been certain the girl was pregnant. After much second guessing and being told what the problem wasn't, an upper GI series test provided the answer to his problem. A diagnosis of malrotation of the bowel was confirmed and surprisingly, this is a congenital defect that is generally discovered in infants and very young children--not young men on the verge of turning 18. Who knew? Who suspected? This symptom began to manifest just several months ago, was quite sporadic at first and then began to occur more and more frequently.

I won't go into a long song and dance about what this condition entails exactly (anyone that interested can look it up easily enough on the Internet). The surgeon with whom we met for an initial consultation regarding surgery told us that until he was able to look around inside, he wouldn't be sure exactly what would be needed to be done to "fix" the problem. Therefore, my son was going to wake up with either four very small incisions or a more traditional long incision across his belly when he came to in the recovery room. Happily, everything went extremely well and he ended up with only three small, very neat (and I don't mean "cool") incisions. The surgeon removed a great deal of scar tissue which had been developing over time across the Duodenum which is a narrow tube at the end of the stomach which leads into the large intestine. Enough scar tissue had developed there to form the pressure of a very firm handshake and if left undiscovered would, in time, close things up completely, cut off the blood supply and the rest I'll leave to your imagination. Trust me, it wouldn't be good and quite likely fatal. Yikes!

Happenings

I’ve had neither the time nor the inclination to write and add any entries into my journal. Life has been relatively calm around the homestead but a few items of interest have taken place since I last wrote. Perhaps if I try to condense them into small vignettes, I’ll actually succeed in making an entry.

On May 11th, we celebrated our 32nd wedding anniversary and, of course, went to the same place we’ve been going for the past several years, our beloved springs. The weather was most cooperative and we had a lovely time as always. We were able to stay three nights and four days this time. As is often the case, our anniversary trip coincided with Mother’s Day. The attendance is usually large for this occasion; many young families with babies and small children visit the springs but it was not so this year. I’m thinking that high gas prices may be a factor.

Upon my return home from this little getaway, I found a gift from my daughter on the kitchen counter. I lifted a pretty lidded box out of the gift bag, opened it and found many small slips of paper folded up inside. I pulled a few out and began to read. On each paper, my daughter had written a specific thank you for each nice thing she remembered me doing for or with her. There were a lot of folded notes in that box and by the time I read the last one, I was quite overcome with this tidal wave of love from my daughter. She, like her Dad, is a thoughtful and inventive gift giver. A great deal of time and effort went into this gift and that along with all the nice memories she noted made it one of the best presents I’ve ever received. This is the type of thing that gives a parent reassurance that she’s done a good job with her child’s upbringing. We can all use some positive reinforcement on that subject!

This brings us to June. Ah, June...June of 2006. This is the June I’ve been looking forward to for a long, long time. This is the June of my son’s graduation from high school. There were more than a few times when I worried seriously that he wasn’t going to do so. The past six years since he began junior high have been fraught with tension, upset, disappointment and apathy.

This past Friday, June 9th, I felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders as I watched my son walk down the aisle to the strains of the ever familiar Pomp and Circumstance. I, for one, felt quite pomp(ous) and this graduation was quite a circumstance. When my son was handed his diploma and stepped forward to present himself with diploma in hand to the audience, I breathed an audible sigh of relief. As my son passed by my seat in the recessional from the graduation platform, he passed his diploma to me saying, "here Mom, this is for you". I think he meant it as a joke but there was more than a little truth in that statement. I fretted and agonized over every missed assignment as if I were the one attending school. This was a mistake on my part but one I think many mothers are guilty of making.

Truly, graduation is the closing of one door and the opening of another in our lives. It is a pivotal moment and I never recognized it as such when I graduated from high school 35 long years ago. My life following graduation was mapped out and I pretty much stuck with the plan and things worked out well. My son’s future is an open book. I don’t know what he wants to do and I don’t think he does either. Whatever he chooses, the responsibility to achieve his goals rests with him. I will always be loving, supportive and interested but I will no longer agonize over whether or not his work is completed. That’s his job now.

 

 

Saturday Six

I haven't added an entry in a long time and my most recent one was an absolute bust...I deleted it (comments and all) because I was so frustrated that what I've been trying to accomplish lo these many months is, apparently, beyond my computer skills at this time.

Just to keep a hand in, however, here's a round of Patrick's Saturday Six which I haven't played for a long time.

http://patricksweekender.blogspot.com/

1. Have you made any plans for summer vacation?  No, we most likely won't be going anywhere this summer...we have other fish to fry.   Will rising gas prices have any direct impact on your plans?  Hell, yes!

  2. What quality do you hope most readers will observe in you through your primary blog?  I never gave a thought to this question when I started my journal but I suppose I would want my happiness with my life in general to come shining through.

 
3. What quality do you think you possess that comes through the least effectively through your primary blog?  I confess; my journal is not so deep and of the heavy duty variety that I was attempting to impart personal qualities of which I am possessed to the general public. 

4. Take the quiz: Who were you in high school?

Brainy Kid

In high school, you were acing AP classes or hanging out in the computer lab.

You may have been a bit of a geek back then, but now you're a total success!

Hardly!

5. What logo or message is on the last container you drank from?  Peaks of Otter

6. You find out that a co-worker you consider a close friend is stealing supplies from work. You know that if you tell your boss, your friend will likely be fired. If you began to think that your boss suspected that you might be the person stealing the supplies, would you tell on your friend?  Yes, but I'd have a little chat with my "close friend" long before it came to this.

 

 

A Weekend Diversion

I live in a very well known area of one of the "wine countries" in northern California. Long ago, my husband and I used to go wine tasting, take family and friends to wineries and then...stopped. Our palates became very educated; our wallets never became fat enough to purchase that which we tasted and knew was wonderful. Over the years, we experimented and discovered what would work for us on a daily basis. Yes, I am one of those people who support the theory that daily consumption of wine, particularly red, is good for the heart, body and soul. Saturday, I was taken on a wine-tasting adventure that was most delightful, long and...well, delightful!

This is an adventure I have long abandoned because like so many other things these days, it has become an outing for the "elite"; the more affluent portion of the populace that has taken over our little town over the past ten to fifteen years or so. It used to be that any one could walk into a winery, sample a taste or two, say many thanks and be on their way. Now, more often than not, a tasting fee is required and it is almost expected that the purchase of a bottle of at least one bottle of wine will be made before bidding the tasting room host or hostess thank you and farewell. Now, anyone who has visited one knows full well that the price of a bottle of wine in a tasting room is outrageous. All wineries are counting on well-heeled visitors who have been tasting the day away and will purchase a bottle or two (or perhaps a case) without a thought to their budget at each one. Alas, I know an excellent wine when I taste one but have become quite comfortable with wines in the $5 to $8 range and more often, the former. There are a lot of very nice little wines out there that are very affordable and they work for me. But, as usual, I digress.

It was to nice to be picked up from home, settled down in the back seat and driven from one winery to the next for an entire afternoon. Pure bliss. This was a young couple, the husband works with my husband and had often suggested going wine tasting together, who shared the day and wineries they had visited previously with us. We were the more knowledgeable couple; they are relatively new to the delights of wine and it made for a happy foursome. They are incredibly young; late twenties, I think. We are middle-aged but in age only and surely not in mind or spirit or why else would they choose to spend a precious Saturday with us? It was lovely to be chauffeured around from one winery to the next, asked every once in awhile, "are you having a good time?". As if it really mattered to them and, of course, it probably didn't but it was nice to hear anyway. Yeah, I was having a hell of a good time and could have quit after the first winery we stopped at where business was slow and the personable young man behind the tasting bar poured generous tastes from the open bottles and spirited (!) us away to sample one barrel taste after another. It was all good; even the Pinot Noir which I never drink and do not like. After eight to ten generous tastes, one's palate becomes numb and I challenge anyone to differentiate between the best Zin out there there and plonk!

Before heading for home, we stopped back at the winery where the generous tasting room employee worked and bought a bottle of 2002 Barbera to tuck away until our anniversary next month. We purposely planned an easy-fix dinner because after a day of wine tasting, the thought of dealing with creating an involved dinner is rather...overwhelming. It's not that we arrived back home intoxicated; more like drifting along on a nice little wine buzz. All in all, it was a wonderful way to while away a gray, rainy Saturday in northern California.

Open http://www.plokta.com/plokta/issue12.5/fairy.htm in a new window

 

Saturday Six - Episode 104

1. Researchers in France have announced that they have developed a "mirror" that uses digital technology plus user input about diet and exercise to determine what you will look like in 10 years. So if you found yourself before such a device, would you want to have a look?  No, I have a pretty good idea of what I'll look like.  I can wait.

2. Have you done your taxes? If not, when will you finish them?  Yes

3. Has the amount you owe or the amount you're getting back (or what you expect the outcome to be) likely to get you to change how much your employer withholds?  No  Why or why not?  Because it usually means we get money back which is always a good thing; getting money back or breaking even...that's all I want.

  4. Take this quiz (if you haven't already!): Should you quit your job?

Your Job Dissatisfaction Level is 36% Your job is not bad, but it's probably not a long term thing.
You're just not happy enough to stick around for too long...
And there's little that can change how you feel.
Start looking around for other options, but only quit for something really good!

My job dissatisfaction is, in reality, 100% because I wish I didn't have to work at all.  But I'm not even one year into a new job so I'm still feeling my way!

. SECOND CHANCE TO BE FIRST TO PLAY QUESTION #1: The Saturday Six began on April 17, 2004, on the old version of "Patrick's Place" over at AOL. When everything moved here, the old comments weren't able to follow. Cdmmw of "I've Got A Fever, and the Only Prescription is More Cowbell" already has a first "link" to her questions on that entry. But for the rest of you, here's your chance to be the first one to answer those original six questions in a comment. For this question, leave your answers in a comment here.  Very confusing question but I happen to know Cdmmw very well and that gives me an advantage:  Saturday, April 17, 2004 Saturday Six - Episode 1 Here's how it all began, on April 17, 2004!

1. Name the last movie you watched on DVD.  King Kong 

6. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #87 from springsnymph: Suppose you're given a box containing a substantial amount of money and it's yours to keep and use however you wish. If and when you open it to retrieve the cash, someone you don't know in another state, country or perhaps even across town will drop dead instantly. This will happen only the first time you open the box. Would you open it?  Oh dear!  I feel compelled to answer this question because it came from me.  What, oh what was I thinking at the time???  I've thought about this long and hard and yes, in the final analysis, I would open the box.  And if it matters to anyone, the amount is very substantial.      

Saturday Six - Episode 103

1. Assuming you have a DVD player and a show you used to enjoy becomes available on DVD...what is the deciding factor on whether or not you'll actually buy it?  The price; sigh...it always comes down to the price, doesn't it?

2. What do you find generally more offensive: the average prime time television show or the people who want their own personal standards of decency to be the guidelines the networks must follow?  Tough call...I'd say the average prime time television show.

3. If you were in charge of the FCC, which of the following would be your priority when it comes to decency on the airwaves: cutting down on violence, sex or profanity?  Violence, definitely violence.  Isn't there enough violence in the real world?  Do we really need more poured into our living space each day???

4. Take this quiz (if you haven't already!): What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?  Ooh, Edward Gorey!  What fun.  Let's take the quiz and find out, shall we?  Answers are courtesy of The Gashlycrumb Tinies.  Yep, I know my Edward Gorey.

You will be smothered under a rug. You're a little anti-social, and may want to start gaining new social skills by making prank phone calls.

5. One of those crazy remodeling shows appears at your door one day and offers to redo any room of your house or apartment for free, but that it can only be one single room that gets a makeover. Would you let them in, and if so, which room would you choose and why?  Yes!!  Where are they?  I would point them in the direction of the master bedroom because there's much room for decorating improvement in there.  Again I say, where are they?

6. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #86 from cdmmw2: Do you recall your first kiss? Did you think that kissing was worth all the hype??  Yes, I recall it quite vividly.  I knew it was coming, I wasn't ready and completely inexperienced in such things.  But I was a quick study, caught on quickly and yes! it's definitely worth all the hype if one is blessed with being taught by a good kisser.  Thankfully, I was.  And he still is!