Robin_Moran
Going Home
Aug 25, 2009
My surgery was Tuesday 7/28 and now its Friday 7/31. Today I decided I felt good enough to finally open the suitcase my poor father dragged around for hours on the day of surgery. I felt like putting on some makeup and even doing my hair. Just as I was planning on getting this started, I get the news that I'm done...I've met my goals and I can go home. I was very excited but a bit worried about the ambulance ride back to the skilled care facility where I live. The roads very near the facility are under construction and I knew the ride would be painful. I grabbed a fluffy pillow for my belly, growled when I needed to cough, made sure the drain site was stable and said, "let's do this." It's only a 30-minute drive.
I was glad to be back in familiar territory with the staff and friends. No matter how well you are treated, it's always nice to be back "home".
Robin R. Moran
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I was glad to be back in familiar territory with the staff and friends. No matter how well you are treated, it's always nice to be back "home".
Robin R. Moran
The Following Days
Aug 25, 2009
Two days after surgery and I'm more alert, I feel better, the more I walk, the less the gas pains are. I'm up to drinking 1 oz of decaf tea and 1 oz diluted juice in an hour. I'm sitting up more in the chair and everything is so much easier. I can't imagine how tough this would be if the surgery were open as they all were in the past. There are no stitches, no staples, just some super glue (of sorts) and a steri stip on each of the 5 incisions. A couple feel more sore than others, but some are used more than others. It makes sense. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.
Robin R. Moran
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Robin R. Moran
The Realization
Aug 22, 2009
7/29/09
I spent the night in a surgical recovery room. I thought it was because of the elephant sitting on my sternum. At first I did think it had something to do with the two large gallstones that I had, but later was told my room wasn't ready and that's why I stayed. I also found that the elephant standing on my chest had a name--GAS! No matter how many people told me about the gas pains, they're just not conceivable until you've experienced them.
Around 6:30 a.m. the day after surgery I was moved to my room. I wasn't even completely moved in and looked over my the nurse until it was time to have the upper GI. I was still under the influence of morphine and I felt like I was going around and around and up and down on a never-ending roller coaster. My stomach, even as little as it now was, felt like it was flipping and flopping like a fish out of water. (Ohhh, I'm glad I didn't have visualization then because it's a bit stomach turning now thinking of fish...LOL).
After a bit of a wait, it was time to face the examiner. They must have noticed that I was a bit green around the gills, so they put me in a harness in case I felt the need to fall while I was asked to drink a few sips of barium, hold my breath, and have the photos taken. After two small cups of fluid and the pictures were taken, I was unharnessed and allowed to sit and try not to think of the taste of the barium and the fact that my stomach felt more full from 2 oz. of barium than it even did during my 10 day, pre-protein/pre-surgery binge. Soon afterward I was taken back to my room to rest.
I spent most of the second day sleeping off and on and when I was awake I walked. Walking is so ultimately important to help remove the gas inside you and to move the remaining to a place closer to its exit. When you have gas pain in your shoulder, you just want to push it down to the exit as swiftly as possible. Then I got the good news that there were no leaks in my innards and I could now be taken off the morphine (though I would have gladly accepted it a bit longer), the catheter came out, and I was now allowed to drink. I was served 1 ounce of watered down grape juice and instructed to take one hour to drink it. That was not a problem since one sip seemed to fill me up completely.
Day two was now over. I had survived though--one of my first thoughts that morning was, "OMG, why did I do this?". I know it was the pain and gas talking, not me. I survived the upper GI, and was already walking the halls, using the restroom, sitting in a chair, and sleeping. I know I had a visitor, but I was unable to hold a conversation. I know I received phone calls, but my attention level was low.
I was just glad to have that day over. The next one would be better, I had that faith!
Robin R. Moran
0 comments
I spent the night in a surgical recovery room. I thought it was because of the elephant sitting on my sternum. At first I did think it had something to do with the two large gallstones that I had, but later was told my room wasn't ready and that's why I stayed. I also found that the elephant standing on my chest had a name--GAS! No matter how many people told me about the gas pains, they're just not conceivable until you've experienced them.
Around 6:30 a.m. the day after surgery I was moved to my room. I wasn't even completely moved in and looked over my the nurse until it was time to have the upper GI. I was still under the influence of morphine and I felt like I was going around and around and up and down on a never-ending roller coaster. My stomach, even as little as it now was, felt like it was flipping and flopping like a fish out of water. (Ohhh, I'm glad I didn't have visualization then because it's a bit stomach turning now thinking of fish...LOL).
After a bit of a wait, it was time to face the examiner. They must have noticed that I was a bit green around the gills, so they put me in a harness in case I felt the need to fall while I was asked to drink a few sips of barium, hold my breath, and have the photos taken. After two small cups of fluid and the pictures were taken, I was unharnessed and allowed to sit and try not to think of the taste of the barium and the fact that my stomach felt more full from 2 oz. of barium than it even did during my 10 day, pre-protein/pre-surgery binge. Soon afterward I was taken back to my room to rest.
I spent most of the second day sleeping off and on and when I was awake I walked. Walking is so ultimately important to help remove the gas inside you and to move the remaining to a place closer to its exit. When you have gas pain in your shoulder, you just want to push it down to the exit as swiftly as possible. Then I got the good news that there were no leaks in my innards and I could now be taken off the morphine (though I would have gladly accepted it a bit longer), the catheter came out, and I was now allowed to drink. I was served 1 ounce of watered down grape juice and instructed to take one hour to drink it. That was not a problem since one sip seemed to fill me up completely.
Day two was now over. I had survived though--one of my first thoughts that morning was, "OMG, why did I do this?". I know it was the pain and gas talking, not me. I survived the upper GI, and was already walking the halls, using the restroom, sitting in a chair, and sleeping. I know I had a visitor, but I was unable to hold a conversation. I know I received phone calls, but my attention level was low.
I was just glad to have that day over. The next one would be better, I had that faith!
Robin R. Moran
The Day of Surgery
Aug 22, 2009
7/28/09
My surgery date has finally come. The long wait is over. I'm so excited, I'm not nervous, I just want to get started. My father, cousin, best friend, and minister have all arrived to help keep me calm, to keep me laughing, and to pray. A medline was put into my left arm and even with a small ultrasound to locate the appropriate vein, it still took time. I was cursed with tiny veins that roll and disappear. The two RNs did it, though. Then we waited even more....the surgery was to begin at 10:15, but it didn't begin until 2:30.
I woke up sometime after the 3+ hour surgery to feel an elephant sitting on my sternum. This was the very first internal surgery for me and I knew about the gas, but I thought I was having a heart attack or a gallbladder attack (I have 2 large stones). After a few hours, many hits of morpheine, and a move to another post op room, I was finally able to open my eyes and understand that my father and cousin were standing there looking at me, just to make sure I was okay. They were exhausted, and rightly so--it was after 10pm. Back to my drug-induced sleep.....zzzzz.
Robin R. Moran
0 comments
My surgery date has finally come. The long wait is over. I'm so excited, I'm not nervous, I just want to get started. My father, cousin, best friend, and minister have all arrived to help keep me calm, to keep me laughing, and to pray. A medline was put into my left arm and even with a small ultrasound to locate the appropriate vein, it still took time. I was cursed with tiny veins that roll and disappear. The two RNs did it, though. Then we waited even more....the surgery was to begin at 10:15, but it didn't begin until 2:30.
I woke up sometime after the 3+ hour surgery to feel an elephant sitting on my sternum. This was the very first internal surgery for me and I knew about the gas, but I thought I was having a heart attack or a gallbladder attack (I have 2 large stones). After a few hours, many hits of morpheine, and a move to another post op room, I was finally able to open my eyes and understand that my father and cousin were standing there looking at me, just to make sure I was okay. They were exhausted, and rightly so--it was after 10pm. Back to my drug-induced sleep.....zzzzz.
Robin R. Moran
Hours before surgery
Jul 25, 2009
Saturday, 7/25/09,
11:25 p.m.
It's just hours, less than 72 hours, until the greatest change in my life will begin. I've just mixed up the bowel prep for the morning spending a bit of time choosing between the many flavor packets that I'm sure will make the otherwise bland salt water into a chemically induced mixed berry flavored salt water. I'm sure it'll make a world of difference.
But as the saying goes, or at least how I remember it, "Into each life a little rain must fall."...
Robin R. Moran
1 comment
11:25 p.m.
It's just hours, less than 72 hours, until the greatest change in my life will begin. I've just mixed up the bowel prep for the morning spending a bit of time choosing between the many flavor packets that I'm sure will make the otherwise bland salt water into a chemically induced mixed berry flavored salt water. I'm sure it'll make a world of difference.
But as the saying goes, or at least how I remember it, "Into each life a little rain must fall."...
Robin R. Moran
