Good News .... Bad News.
First the Bad News (and it's not that bad)... you know that tube? The one we've grown to hate? Well, it ain't coming out until (probably) Tuesday. If that's bad news to you, think how Trish feels. The reasons for the delay are: 1. It's just not time. This is the prudent judgement of the surgeon, and is all for the good. Premature removal could be extremely harmful for Trish... it's not one of those things to rush. 2. Today is Friday, and tomorrow is the week-end. Apparently x-rays don't work on week-ends. Or, rather, x-ray technicians don't. 3. Monday is Labor Day! And if they don't work on week-ends, they sure as heck don't work on holidays! .... so.... it's looking like Tuesday.
The toughest thing for T. is that she's been keeping a stiff upper lip and all that, putting up with the irritation... knowing it would be over in a few days. Now that "few days" has been extended. It's like running a marathon and having the officials telling you at mile 26, "Oh, we've decided on a 36 mile marathon today".
She confided in me that upon hearing the news early this morning she had a bit of a break-down... but, by the time I arrived she was already resigned, and she was following the doctor's advice to just sleep as much as she can. Still, we had a few moments of amusement playing the New Yorker magazine "caption-the-cartoon" game. Trish is very good at that.... I suck.
Anyway.... I feel bad, because I've sort of demonized this tube in the past few blogs, and made the removal of it such a big deal. So.... until it's out.... we aren't mentioning the little bugger anymore. We won't dignify it by our acknowledgement. What tube?
And the good news? Trish got a room upgrade! I don't know what they call it in the hospital, but it's the equivalent of the airline bumping you up to first class. Actually, St. John's is fairly egalitarian, and it's kind of a crap shoot whether you get a private room or a double... it's all about "available beds". But, knowing you're going to be in the hospital for longer than you had intended, it's nice to have the private, more luxurious room. So... Trish is now occupying a quiet, corner room, with a better T.V., better view, more privacy, and a couch-bed that Willie can sleep on if she needs someone to spend the night. It's not as good as having your fairy godmother wave her wand and say, "Heal!"... but it does make the tedious hospital days easier to bear. Will said they got the news upon returning from a walk... it was apparantly just good luck, but Will suspects it might have been Dr. Kuchenbecker pulling some strings after having to deliver disappointing news about the delay.
And Trish continues a speedy recovery.... sitting, walking, peeing... and she's now getting a more substantial looking food-stuff (looking at the ingredients I realized it's basically a high-protein vanilla shake) to give her more energy.
And she's still looking fabulous.
More tomorrow.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Totally tubular...
Well, day four ... and there's discernible progress:
One tube down! Not the dreaded "nose-to-stomach" tube, unfortunately, but the runner up in the "Most Hated Tube" contest, The Catheter, is history! Which means, of course, that Trish has to now GET UP to relieve herself.... but she can! And does!
Unfortunately, it's not all blithe, care-free urination, as there are the OTHER dratted tubes complicating the procedure,... but she's knocking them off, one by one.
A delightful divertissement in the day was provided by the arrival in her room of TWO "commode chairs", and she was allowed to select her favorite. Trish went with the more streamlined, "moderne" version, a good choice as it blended nicely with the minimalist, utilitarian furnishings of room 562.
The other major event of the day was that one of the remaining tubes was used to actually get real food in her. Well... "real" in this case is a relative term, but she's been existing on intravenous Gatorade (or pretty close to it) since Monday, and today one of the less heinous tubes delivered dextrose directly to her digestive track (or is that tract?). And more nutrition equals faster healing.
And she's been healing at a rapid pace. She's been sitting up, and walking around, usually accompanied by her son, and the ever-present IV stand, which tags along beside her like an anorexic C3PO.
Once again, the doctors seem pleased with her progress, and once she gets the now thoroughly loathed Tube-We-Dare-Not-Name (I'm calling it Voldemort) yanked, she'll be sailing!
And, as her wise and witty son Willie observed "This tube shall pass".
More tomorrow.
One tube down! Not the dreaded "nose-to-stomach" tube, unfortunately, but the runner up in the "Most Hated Tube" contest, The Catheter, is history! Which means, of course, that Trish has to now GET UP to relieve herself.... but she can! And does!
Unfortunately, it's not all blithe, care-free urination, as there are the OTHER dratted tubes complicating the procedure,... but she's knocking them off, one by one.
A delightful divertissement in the day was provided by the arrival in her room of TWO "commode chairs", and she was allowed to select her favorite. Trish went with the more streamlined, "moderne" version, a good choice as it blended nicely with the minimalist, utilitarian furnishings of room 562.
The other major event of the day was that one of the remaining tubes was used to actually get real food in her. Well... "real" in this case is a relative term, but she's been existing on intravenous Gatorade (or pretty close to it) since Monday, and today one of the less heinous tubes delivered dextrose directly to her digestive track (or is that tract?). And more nutrition equals faster healing.
And she's been healing at a rapid pace. She's been sitting up, and walking around, usually accompanied by her son, and the ever-present IV stand, which tags along beside her like an anorexic C3PO.
Once again, the doctors seem pleased with her progress, and once she gets the now thoroughly loathed Tube-We-Dare-Not-Name (I'm calling it Voldemort) yanked, she'll be sailing!
And, as her wise and witty son Willie observed "This tube shall pass".
More tomorrow.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
And it's Day 3....
This will be very brief, as I'm falling asleep. I'm used to keeping vampire hours, and this, normally, is a perfect time for me to write. However, since I'm getting up early in the mornings (Trish can't believe it), I'm off my "normal" schedule.
Anyway... here goes:
Trish continues to improve. She was sitting up, and even doing a little walking today, and the doctors (in their traditional cautious way) were giving her thumbs up. Her spirits seem to be good, but as her body heals and wakes up, the annoyances of a hospital stay become more acute.
The irritation caused by the tube that runs from her nose, down her throat, and into her stomach is the worst thing. "All perfectly normal" as Doctor Kuchenbecker pronounced, but that doesn't make it less irritating. The removal of the tube depends on a test which involves her drinking a stuff-that's-visible-to-x-rays-liquid (there's a perfectly good word for this class of fluids, but I can't remember it now) and then, after she ingests said fluid, taking an x-ray to check for leaks. They want to keep the tube in place until they are sure they want it out... putting it BACK if they need to would be risking trauma.
The critical factor, since this will be the FIRST thing she ingests by mouth, is that they want to be sure that her stomach is ready for the concoction (there is an arcane formula to establish this, but I don't know all the details). So... it may be a few days before they can do that... Hopefully, by Friday... but it may even be Monday.
In the meantime, though Trish can talk (softly, but distinctly) it soon grows VERY irritating for her to do so. With that in mind, she's asked me to ask any of YOU who might feel so inclined, to NOT visit her until she feels up to it. I suggested to her that people may just want to SEE her, and they would understand if she couldn't talk, but she would be uncomfortable NOT talking, and in pain if she WAS talking.... so she'd rather put off the whole thing for a few days (This includes phone calls as well... though if there's someone in the room with her, they can play middle-man on the phone... but if she's alone in the room, with all the tubes, it's difficult for her to even answer the phone... the hospital's ACCOUNTING department hasn't quite figured that out yet; though they are very pleasant when told they should call to ask about her social security number in a few days. They'll probably pleasantly assure me that they will when they call tomorrow as well).
Still she wanted me to tell you all that she knows you care, and she feels the love, and has appreciated the messages passed on to her... but she'd much rather tell you all about it in person when she can tell you all about it in person over a martini.
I'll also make sure she sees any replies to her blog, or any e-mails.
More news tomorrow.
Anyway... here goes:
Trish continues to improve. She was sitting up, and even doing a little walking today, and the doctors (in their traditional cautious way) were giving her thumbs up. Her spirits seem to be good, but as her body heals and wakes up, the annoyances of a hospital stay become more acute.
The irritation caused by the tube that runs from her nose, down her throat, and into her stomach is the worst thing. "All perfectly normal" as Doctor Kuchenbecker pronounced, but that doesn't make it less irritating. The removal of the tube depends on a test which involves her drinking a stuff-that's-visible-to-x-rays-liquid (there's a perfectly good word for this class of fluids, but I can't remember it now) and then, after she ingests said fluid, taking an x-ray to check for leaks. They want to keep the tube in place until they are sure they want it out... putting it BACK if they need to would be risking trauma.
The critical factor, since this will be the FIRST thing she ingests by mouth, is that they want to be sure that her stomach is ready for the concoction (there is an arcane formula to establish this, but I don't know all the details). So... it may be a few days before they can do that... Hopefully, by Friday... but it may even be Monday.
In the meantime, though Trish can talk (softly, but distinctly) it soon grows VERY irritating for her to do so. With that in mind, she's asked me to ask any of YOU who might feel so inclined, to NOT visit her until she feels up to it. I suggested to her that people may just want to SEE her, and they would understand if she couldn't talk, but she would be uncomfortable NOT talking, and in pain if she WAS talking.... so she'd rather put off the whole thing for a few days (This includes phone calls as well... though if there's someone in the room with her, they can play middle-man on the phone... but if she's alone in the room, with all the tubes, it's difficult for her to even answer the phone... the hospital's ACCOUNTING department hasn't quite figured that out yet; though they are very pleasant when told they should call to ask about her social security number in a few days. They'll probably pleasantly assure me that they will when they call tomorrow as well).
Still she wanted me to tell you all that she knows you care, and she feels the love, and has appreciated the messages passed on to her... but she'd much rather tell you all about it in person when she can tell you all about it in person over a martini.
I'll also make sure she sees any replies to her blog, or any e-mails.
More news tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
T-watch, Day 2.
T-watch.... Twatch?! ... That can't be right. Anyway it's late, and I'm tired (not that you guys care about ME), so I'll give the Joe Friday "Just the facts, ma'am" version.
Trish is doing really well. She would probably say, "Yeah... really well for someone with a fucking TUBE down her nose, and a vertical incision in her abdomen!"... but, as an objective, outside observer, I'll stick with my diagnosis: she's doing really well.
The second day is notoriously the worst day after surgery. You're more aware, and that means more capable of being annoyed. The hardest thing for her has been a very sore throat, exacerbated by the tube and the proscription against any liquids... so she has a sore throat she can't lubricate. The surgical incision is painful for her, but she is dutifully able to do the deep breathing exercises she needs to make sure her lungs puff up and stay clear. I was there when the pulmonary nurse came to show her the breathing-in toy (providing bio-feedback on her inhaling), and after she listened to Trish's lungs she said she didn't have to do the abdominally painful "coughing up" exercise, as her lungs were remarkably clear. Score points for swimming and yoga.
We talked for a while this morning, until that seemed to exacerbate her sore throat (or maybe that was just her polite way of saying, "Andy, shut up!!"), and I got her a pad of paper and a pen to ease her communication.
However, even without the spoken or written word, Trish is remarkably expressive. She made me laugh (better me than her at the moment) with her takes and eye-rolls as we listened through the curtain to the very lovely lady in the bed next to her discuss EVERY POSSIBLE item to eat on the lunch menu with her two daughters. It was obviously God's little joke: "You can't eat Trish, but here's a detailed list of all the things you aren't going to eat in the next half hour!"
Anyway, I left at around 12:45 when Willie and Dennis came, and I hear from them that she continued to have a good day ("With a fucking BURNING throat!" I can hear her yell in my head).
I'll let you all know about tomorrow, and maybe she'll have some input for me to add to the next post.
Sleep well.
Trish is doing really well. She would probably say, "Yeah... really well for someone with a fucking TUBE down her nose, and a vertical incision in her abdomen!"... but, as an objective, outside observer, I'll stick with my diagnosis: she's doing really well.
The second day is notoriously the worst day after surgery. You're more aware, and that means more capable of being annoyed. The hardest thing for her has been a very sore throat, exacerbated by the tube and the proscription against any liquids... so she has a sore throat she can't lubricate. The surgical incision is painful for her, but she is dutifully able to do the deep breathing exercises she needs to make sure her lungs puff up and stay clear. I was there when the pulmonary nurse came to show her the breathing-in toy (providing bio-feedback on her inhaling), and after she listened to Trish's lungs she said she didn't have to do the abdominally painful "coughing up" exercise, as her lungs were remarkably clear. Score points for swimming and yoga.
We talked for a while this morning, until that seemed to exacerbate her sore throat (or maybe that was just her polite way of saying, "Andy, shut up!!"), and I got her a pad of paper and a pen to ease her communication.
However, even without the spoken or written word, Trish is remarkably expressive. She made me laugh (better me than her at the moment) with her takes and eye-rolls as we listened through the curtain to the very lovely lady in the bed next to her discuss EVERY POSSIBLE item to eat on the lunch menu with her two daughters. It was obviously God's little joke: "You can't eat Trish, but here's a detailed list of all the things you aren't going to eat in the next half hour!"
Anyway, I left at around 12:45 when Willie and Dennis came, and I hear from them that she continued to have a good day ("With a fucking BURNING throat!" I can hear her yell in my head).
I'll let you all know about tomorrow, and maybe she'll have some input for me to add to the next post.
Sleep well.
Monday, August 27, 2007
I never slept with Trish Soodik ... but this is not about my regrets.
Hey, all. Andy Parks here, pinch-hitting for Trish who is temporarily indisposed.
As following in Trish's extremely funny foot-steps is a daunting task, I'll forgo any attempt at humor (for the moment), and cut to the chase:
Trish had her surgery today, and everything went EXTREMELY well. I'll check with her about sharing any intimate details... but the surgeon was very happy with how things went, and the prognosis is rosy (everyone knock on wood).
It was a looooong day, with Trish and Willie arriving at 7:30 a.m. to prepare for surgery at 9:30.... this was changed to 10:3o soon thereafter. Dennis Redfield and myself arrived at around 9:00 to provide moral support.... and, truth be told, much fun WAS had by all concerned in the small pre-op room to which she was assigned.
But then....nothing happened. Nothing BAD happened.... just NOTHING happened. For about three hours.
Apparently Dr. Kuchenbecker (I kid you not) was in surgery before his date with Trish, and complications arose that pushed his schedule back..... Strangely enough, MORE hilarity ensued in the tiny pre-op room, though Trish, who hadn't eaten or drank anything since midnight the night before, was getting a little thirsty and hungry.
Eventually... the 9:30 a.m. surgery commenced at around 12:45.... and lasted for close to 4 and a half hours. During that time Willie, Dennis and I split our time between the cafeteria and the waiting room. SOME hilarity ensued.... but not as much as with Trish in the room.
After the surgery, the remarkable Ms. Soodik was NOT taken to I.C.U., as had been deemed likely, but after an hour or so in recovery, was taken directly to a hospital room. There, having come through a MAJOR bit of abdominal surgery... she proceeded to make jokes. Now... they were sleepy, morphine-laced, wry jokes... but they were jokes.... and, though she may not remember the conversations tomorrow, she knew where she was, what had happened, had questions about what had happened, and (while occasionally nodding off with her finger on the "self-medicating" button) was remarkably THERE.
And, as I know this is important to her, she looked great! Well.... she had a tube coming out of her nose (and from a few other places) and, as she herself felt compelled to point out, wasn't wearing any mascara... but she looked remarkably good.... her hair was even fetchingly disheveled on the pillow.
At one point I thought she'd drifted off, but said to her anyway, "You look fucking great, Trish", and she opened a sleepy eye and said "Put that in the blog".
As she has stated in her previous blogs, she REALLY doesn't want to have a lot of visitors while there's a tube in her nose (it will be there a little longer than is usual; until they make sure, as Dr. Kuchenbecker put it, there are "no leaks" in the new plumbing). I'll relay any changes in that attitude as the days progress (because of the nature of the surgery, the recovery will probably keep her in the hospital for 6 days or so). In the meantime, she re-iterates that if anyone wants to send flowers, she'd love a contribution to The Virgina Avenue Project be sent instead.
Anyway... while not exactly a fun day, it was a very good day. I'll try to keep everyone up-to-date with her progress.
In the meantime ... Trish Soodik remains my idol.
As following in Trish's extremely funny foot-steps is a daunting task, I'll forgo any attempt at humor (for the moment), and cut to the chase:
Trish had her surgery today, and everything went EXTREMELY well. I'll check with her about sharing any intimate details... but the surgeon was very happy with how things went, and the prognosis is rosy (everyone knock on wood).
It was a looooong day, with Trish and Willie arriving at 7:30 a.m. to prepare for surgery at 9:30.... this was changed to 10:3o soon thereafter. Dennis Redfield and myself arrived at around 9:00 to provide moral support.... and, truth be told, much fun WAS had by all concerned in the small pre-op room to which she was assigned.
But then....nothing happened. Nothing BAD happened.... just NOTHING happened. For about three hours.
Apparently Dr. Kuchenbecker (I kid you not) was in surgery before his date with Trish, and complications arose that pushed his schedule back..... Strangely enough, MORE hilarity ensued in the tiny pre-op room, though Trish, who hadn't eaten or drank anything since midnight the night before, was getting a little thirsty and hungry.
Eventually... the 9:30 a.m. surgery commenced at around 12:45.... and lasted for close to 4 and a half hours. During that time Willie, Dennis and I split our time between the cafeteria and the waiting room. SOME hilarity ensued.... but not as much as with Trish in the room.
After the surgery, the remarkable Ms. Soodik was NOT taken to I.C.U., as had been deemed likely, but after an hour or so in recovery, was taken directly to a hospital room. There, having come through a MAJOR bit of abdominal surgery... she proceeded to make jokes. Now... they were sleepy, morphine-laced, wry jokes... but they were jokes.... and, though she may not remember the conversations tomorrow, she knew where she was, what had happened, had questions about what had happened, and (while occasionally nodding off with her finger on the "self-medicating" button) was remarkably THERE.
And, as I know this is important to her, she looked great! Well.... she had a tube coming out of her nose (and from a few other places) and, as she herself felt compelled to point out, wasn't wearing any mascara... but she looked remarkably good.... her hair was even fetchingly disheveled on the pillow.
At one point I thought she'd drifted off, but said to her anyway, "You look fucking great, Trish", and she opened a sleepy eye and said "Put that in the blog".
As she has stated in her previous blogs, she REALLY doesn't want to have a lot of visitors while there's a tube in her nose (it will be there a little longer than is usual; until they make sure, as Dr. Kuchenbecker put it, there are "no leaks" in the new plumbing). I'll relay any changes in that attitude as the days progress (because of the nature of the surgery, the recovery will probably keep her in the hospital for 6 days or so). In the meantime, she re-iterates that if anyone wants to send flowers, she'd love a contribution to The Virgina Avenue Project be sent instead.
Anyway... while not exactly a fun day, it was a very good day. I'll try to keep everyone up-to-date with her progress.
In the meantime ... Trish Soodik remains my idol.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Who's That Girl?
Venice Police Blotter
Midnight, August 23rd
A middle aged fake blond with a questionable haircut was seen staggering down Abbot Kinney around midnight. She was quite disheveled and was carrying an empty martini glass from Hals and a half eaten slice of pizza from Abbots Habit. A green olive with pimento was found in her right ear. She kept saying something about St. John. (Probably a religious fanatic.) And she was rambling on about Clive Owen and James Brown and said something about Mother Teresa questioning her faith. When Officer Spring apprehended her she told him that he had to let her go because she was flying off to Calcutta tomorrow. (Probably something related to Mother Teresa.) She also told him that she had slept with someone named Bobby who had a very thick New York accent. Officer Spring said that from the looks of her he doubted that she had slept with anyone. Ever. He asked her to take the breathalyzer test but she bent over and did something she called a downward dog instead. Officer Spring concluded that she was just a harmless mid-century woman so he let her go. As she was leaving she told Spring that she was going to buy some moisterizer for St. John. (Probably an offering.)
Spring told his fellow officers that he felt she was out of her mind but harmless. She was last seen getting into a Prius and driving erratically towards a beauty parlor and bouncing up and down in her car seat as The Grateful Dead blasted from her speakers.
Midnight, August 23rd
A middle aged fake blond with a questionable haircut was seen staggering down Abbot Kinney around midnight. She was quite disheveled and was carrying an empty martini glass from Hals and a half eaten slice of pizza from Abbots Habit. A green olive with pimento was found in her right ear. She kept saying something about St. John. (Probably a religious fanatic.) And she was rambling on about Clive Owen and James Brown and said something about Mother Teresa questioning her faith. When Officer Spring apprehended her she told him that he had to let her go because she was flying off to Calcutta tomorrow. (Probably something related to Mother Teresa.) She also told him that she had slept with someone named Bobby who had a very thick New York accent. Officer Spring said that from the looks of her he doubted that she had slept with anyone. Ever. He asked her to take the breathalyzer test but she bent over and did something she called a downward dog instead. Officer Spring concluded that she was just a harmless mid-century woman so he let her go. As she was leaving she told Spring that she was going to buy some moisterizer for St. John. (Probably an offering.)
Spring told his fellow officers that he felt she was out of her mind but harmless. She was last seen getting into a Prius and driving erratically towards a beauty parlor and bouncing up and down in her car seat as The Grateful Dead blasted from her speakers.
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