Day 11 - Good News, Bad News

On the floor of the hospital I was on, Mondays could be a big day. It marked the end of a nice, restful weekend for the nurses/doctors, and the beginning of another week in the rounds of keeping people alive to the best of their ability.

For me, I woke up with an optimism about my condition and the progress I had seen made in such a short amount of time. Between the fresh shave & bath that the wonderful Ted gave me on Friday, and the drop in swelling in my legs, I felt invincible. I didn't let the TINY little fact that I couldn't walk without a walker nor utilized my legs to take any steps get in the way of this invincibility.

In medicine, things can get messy, and mistakes get made even in the best of circumstances and with the best of intentions.

A mistake, was made.

Early Monday, the team came by during rounds and seemed to indicate things were looking good, but there was an issue with the procedure that had been performed. In layperson terms, there was a tube/vessel that was supposed to carry and transfer bile to the lower intestines. It was still so swollen from the required stitches to connect it during the surgery, that it couldn't do it's job effectively.

So, during the procedure Friday, they snipped a tiny cut into the opening to let it start working. Meanwhile, they microscopically bandaged the cut as best as you can in that situation and hoped the cut didn't start bleeding again.

Well, something happened, and there was an issue. Some other things may have been messed with during the procedure, which I was NOT made aware of until this time.

This was when I began to lose control. The next three days were the most trying days of my stay.

A hold pattern was instituted that morning to wait and see how things looked. SO, I had my Monday breakfast, and needled the nurses gently when they came into check on me.

This also marked the first day I had Beth as my nurse. Oh, wonderful Beth. She was an awesome nurse who laughed when I cracked cheesy jokes, gave me virtually whatever I asked for (more on that later), and she treated me with dignity and respect, even when a certain area of my body needed to be cared for.

By mid-morning I began noticing some stomach discomfort. In my infinite wisdom, and my positive attitude at the progress I had made, I brushed it off to needing to train my stomach for serious food again. This despite having been eating serious fruit and other "soft" foods.

The pain, as I ate my lunch, only got more intense. I refused to be concerned. I ate dinner, and the pain was still there. It was determined I would probably need to go in for another scoping. That was completed late Monday, and it was determined that there was no bleeding from the cut.

This, was the good news. The bad news was that there seemed to be a ginormous ulcer that had magically formed in my stomach. Moreover, there were some other things they were looking at. But, what they didn't tell me at that time, and what they should have, would make the next day the toughest day emotionally for me of the entire stay.

It was the lowest I think I have ever been. At my most human, and at my most pathetic.

Day 12 will begin at approximately 9:00 with a doctor making the tactical mistake of walking into a minefield.