Post Op

Okay, just because my lima bean was benign doesn’t mean that is the end of this blog.

Together. We. Can. Make. A. Difference.

Besides, I’m sure you want to hear all about my exciting post op appointment with Doc Smith.

You do?

Well then what am I waiting for?

First things first – when I originally saw Doc Smith at the hospital I told him that I had planned to make him a Bears (DA Bears!) scrub cap for luck – but unfortunately I couldn’t find a good pattern for boy doctor hats (I found lots of girl doctor hats – bouffant and other styles, but nothing suitable for a boy doctor…)  Anyway, he was disappointed.  He said if I made one he’d totally wear it.

Don’t ever tell me I have free reign to do a craft.

Of course I found a pattern and made him one which I delivered at my post op appointment.

He liked it.  He liked it a lot.

(And if he didn’t he played it off really really well…)

Anyway – first thing Doc said to me…

“How did you like the artwork I left you?”

Seriously, this doctor is hilarious.

Once the pleasantries were exchanged he looked at the incision and decided it was healing very nicely.

“Nobody will ever even see the scar.”

You bet they won’t!!! (not even if you ask nicely…sorry guys.)

So, mammogram in 6 months for follow up…and – a lump check in four weeks.

You got it, they found another one.  But no worries, according to Doc Smith, it feels totally benign and this one we will just watch and see.

But if it starts to bother me call him and we’ll take a closer look sooner.

Deal.

Benign.

That’s right.

After some serious prodding by my sister – I decided to call Doc Smith and talk to my second favorite nurse, Dee. 

The exact words were that “The pathology results came back and they looked absolutely perfect.”

I still have a surgical follow up in a few days and will continue to monitor the “area.” I know better than to let that go for too long – at least I do now.

I know it’s weird, but I didn’t instantly feel relieved.  I’m still sort of in a haze with all of this.

BUT

It’s benign.  I’m happy.  My husband is happy.  My family is happy.  We can move on.

Period.

A Coin Flip.

There’s a reason I never liked to gamble. 

Part of it is because of the whole I don’t do that kind of thing – thing…but the other part is I’m kindof a control freak.  I don’t like to play games that I can’t have some minor control over the situation.

That’s why I’ve never liked “Heads or Tails” to make a decision.  It’s always left up to luck.  I don’t like luck.  I can’t control it.

Doc Smith called yesterday, and since he didn’t get a chance to talk to Ammon he wanted to let us know his impressions of Lumpy and Lumpy Jr.
 
“It’s a coin flip.”

Those are his exact words.  He went on to explain he didn’t feel comfortable saying they were or were not.  He simply had no feeling either way.

Okay, so heads they are sinister twins, tails annoying neighbors.  We have to wait for full pathology.

Time will tell.

I call tails.

Removal

Well, it’s gone.  Little lumpy is no longer a part of my body or my life.

And I’m not the slightest bit sad about it.

Yesterday started out pretty normal – with the exception of the fact that Ammon was home on a weekday – which is always nice.  I had to be to the hospital by 9:30 AM for check in and the surgery was scheduled at 11:30.  I had no idea why there was a 2 hour check in time – seemed a little odd to me, but whatever.  I later found out that they had over 80 people on their schedule for that day – well not my doc, but the entire hospital.  That’s super crazy. (according to my Nurse Estelle anyway).

When we got there they handed us one of those restaurant waiting pagers.  You know the ones you get at places like The Outback and The Cheesecake Factory – the little black square that lights up red when your table is ready?  Ammon and I thought this was clever, but cruel.  I mean, I am not allowed to eat ANYTHING, and now the only thing I’m thinking about is an awesome blossom  and a slice of cheesecake.  Sort of a Pavlovs Dogs response to the pager I think.  At any rate, we sat down and about ten minutes later it went off and I got to go fill out paperwork.

Love the paperwork…and the fact that I had to fill the same paperwork about five times before they actually put me under.  I suppose they want to make sure I give the same answers…

Pre-op prep went quickly.  I had four nurses who were absolutely amazing, hilarious – and oddly enough, shared my same love and complete devotion for Target Stores.  (Who doesn’t???)

Doc came in and signed my boob – because apparently they didn’t want to forget which one – located the lump and circled it…then located a second lump and circled it too…yep a second lump, right next to the first.  Lumpy and Lumpy Jr.  Fabulous. 

The doctor and nurses make me take out my contact lenses, start an IV and the Anesthesiologist comes in and takes a look down my throat.  (Later we realized this should have been a clue that I’d have breathing tube shoved down there…but it wasn’t readily apparent to either my husband or I that this was the case.)

They finally come in to take me away (ha ha ho ho) and we’re off.  I meet up with the surgeon (Doc. Smith) and the anesthesiologist in the OR with Estelle, my fabulous nurse.  Doc Smith waves at me from across the room.  I inform him that I am no longer blessed with the gift of sight and he’s going to have to make bigger movements than that.  Next think I know, he’s two inches from my face with his eyes bugged out of his face saying “Is that better?”  I respond “Much – thank you.”  Have I told you how good this doc is at putting me at ease???

They start to give me oxygen, make me recite my full name, doc’s name and surgery type…and then let me know that they are going to give me something to relax (because I’m obviously so stressed out as indicated by the constant jokes being thrown around and laughter…and it wasn’t just me)  At this point they start to read back my paperwork - “You are allergic to chocolate and Morphine”  I tell them that is correct …  Doc then asks - “anything else?”  Yes, as a matter of fact, Stupid People.  At this point doc turns around and changes the song that’s playing on his CD…”Everybody Knows, That The World is Full Of Stupid People” by the Refreshments.  I am sooo in love with this Doc – awesome tunes, and A Bears fan.  Then anesthesia doc tells me that they are going to give me the medication that will make me sleep – he says “It’s gonna burn in the hand a bit…” 

K, here’s where I tell you I went to a few years of nursing school.  Part of this was anatomy classes.  What happened next was not a burning sensation in my hand – rather my face.  It was on fire.  Seriously – like when you burn yourself on the heating element in the oven or by touching a hot pan and then a few hours later expose said burn to hot water…that kind of sensation.  I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t my hand that was burning – and that’s the last thing I remember until waking up in recovery – two and one half hours later.

I remember the nurses talking back and forth – apparently they couldn’t find my husband…they called his cell phone and he was in the waiting room – but it was the wrong one.  There are apparently two waiting rooms, and the one he was in (you know, the one closest to the OR) wasn’t the correct one.  Doc Smith went looking for him, but couldn’t find him – so he never actually spoke to the Doc.  All we know at this point is that I woke up, and he took me home.  Not even any care instructions for the wound – nothin’.  Nada. Zilch.  So we are left to our own devices.  Luckily we have a good deal of common sense.

The paperwork we DID get does say that I can shower in T days…whatever that means.  I’m thinking it means I can shower on days that start with T…so today is Thursday, I’m going with that.  The hospital promised to call today and follow up with me.  And with the kind of doc that Doc Smith is, I’m pretty sure that since he didn’t get to talk to Ammon he’ll probably call as well- or at least have my second favorite nurse Dee call.  I also expect  a call from my favorite nurse Jan.  I expect to be pretty popular today.

We should have results in the next few days on whether Lumpy and Lumpy Jr. are sinister twins or simply annoying neighbors.  We’re still going with the mantra – It’s going to be benign.  Period.

It’s Going To Be Benign.

My sister and I have a plan of attack on this little lima bean.  The treatment plan is basically this – every morning, I tell the lump that it’s benign and that this is going to be a routine surgery.

I keep telling it that. 

At some point in my life I was told that if you say something enough times you’ll start to believe it.

I’m still waiting for that to happen.

I know it’s an irrational fear.  We have no idea what this thing is.  It is going to be nothing, benign – something of no consequence…but something inside of me continues to think about the “what if” possibilities.

If you know me, you know this is exactly what I do.  I worry about the worst case scenario – always.  For example, we were out shopping once and one of my kids wandered off…she was just in the next aisle over – but my heart immediately left my chest and my thoughts immediately jumped to the “what would I do” scenario.

That’s what keeps happening with this.  I’m scared.  I shouldn’t be – I don’t have enough information to be scared…but that’s what makes it worse.  I don’t have the information.  Knowledge is power – and right now the lack of knowledge has a terrible power over me.

I’m seriously okay.  I have my moments of insecurity and fear – but there are more moments of feeling like this is going to be a nothing – a blip in the radar of my life.

It’s going to be benign.  Period.

Where Much is Given…

I’ve had a few people ask me why I’m writing this blog when I have no idea of the actual outcome of these events.  Here’s the simple answer: I write when I’m stressed.  It’s my way of coping.  I have no idea how this is all going to turn out.  Writing is my therapy.

I suppose it all goes a little bit deeper than that though.  I just had an amazing conversation with a friend of mine (through the magic of Facebook, of course) that brought me to another realization, this blog is more than just my therapy – it is possible someone else might read this and find a little bit of comfort in their own situation.

Okay, so I know that sounds arrogant.  I’m not proposing that I’m trying to heal the world through my writing.  However I do believe that everything that happens is another opportunity to learn, to grow and to share.  I was told many years ago that I would be able to help others through difficult situations simply by being me.  This blog is definitely me.  It is my most intimate thoughts and feelings, fears of the unknown and looks into the bright side of life.  I intend to learn much from this experience and use that knowledge however possible.

One of my favorite scriptures (yes, I’m going to the scriptures now – I tend to do that when I’m looking for answers, solace, am confused or lonely, and even when I simply want something to do to pass the time…I could choose worse activities don’t ya think?) is in the Doctrine and Covenants 82:1-3.

  1 Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks;

  2 Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted.

  3 Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord.

Fear Not. Prayers. Promise. Work Together For Your Good.

Regardless of the situation, that is all I need to know.  He is with me.  He knows I have fears and trials, but He promises that it will all work for my good.  He knows what my “good” is.  I don’t.  And that’s okay.  My job is to learn from these experiences and share what I’ve learned or use what I’ve learned to better understand and have empathy for others.  He will handle the rest.  So I will continue to write.  If anything, I’ve chronicled my experiences for our family history.  I can pull this out when I’m ninety and say – I was there once, and this is what I learned.

Scheduled.

Dee (my second favorite nurse) called today.  We have a date.

Funny.  I always considered dates to be fun things – movies, dinner, maybe a little dancing…but ya know, IV’s, operating tables and a few hours sleep is good too.  Heck, I’m a mom, I’ll take what I can get.

I’ll be checking into the hospital on Wednesday.  Surgery is at 11:30, so no food or drink after 3:30 AM.  The only question now is – anyone up for a Wendy’s run at midnight on Tuesday?  I hear their drive through is open until 1 AM.