It's 1:45 a.m., Sunday, as I write this.... and there's a good chance that when you read this, Trish will be home. She's scheduled to go home today, but leaving the hospital always involves a lot of "hurry up and wait". Also, I'm superstitious about predicting things .... but let's hope she's home today.
Saturday, at the hospital, T. was disconnected from her feeding tube (it can be plugged in and out), and was truly free to maneuver for the first time in almost two weeks. When Katy and I arrived to bring her some non-hospital food, her friend Joyce Gass was there, and as we were leaving, Joyce was starting to give her a massage... it looked like heaven.
Anyway.... with any luck, this will be my last blog as Trish's "place-holder". ( Just as I was hitting my stride, too!) . The next "voice" you hear will be hers. I, for one, can't wait.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Sunday, Sunday...
Well, it looks like T. will be sprung on Sunday! I only visited her briefly today, but she was doing well.
Looking back, I see I forgot to mention that she had TWO abdominal tubes, one for supplementary feeding, and another that drained off blood from the surgery. Anyway, the drainage tube was taken out today. (This is a mysterious process that involves NO surgery... they just take the damn thing out ... I guess Trish just heals like one of those self-sealing tires).
She was experimenting with solid food today, and the choices from the hospital were less than inspiring, so she had me bring her some peanut butter and a banana (both on her "approved" list). I also brought her some broth from a chicken vegetable soup they sell at the Co-op grocery. All of that seemed to go down pretty well, though she will have to continue to monitor different foods and the amounts of them she ingests. Trish says she's going to be on the look-out for a good nutritionist when she gets home.
She will still have the plug-in IV (it automatically parcels out the liquid food supplement when she's connected to it) with her when she goes home, but that will only be temporary. When she's unplugged she'll be completely mobile. Apparently she can also take showers, but won't be able to do the swimming she loves until they remove the abdominal shunt.
So.... phase one, the most physically traumatic phase, of her ordeal is almost over.... Now she just has to heal and get stronger .... but nobody who knows her has any doubts about just how strong she already is.
Looking back, I see I forgot to mention that she had TWO abdominal tubes, one for supplementary feeding, and another that drained off blood from the surgery. Anyway, the drainage tube was taken out today. (This is a mysterious process that involves NO surgery... they just take the damn thing out ... I guess Trish just heals like one of those self-sealing tires).
She was experimenting with solid food today, and the choices from the hospital were less than inspiring, so she had me bring her some peanut butter and a banana (both on her "approved" list). I also brought her some broth from a chicken vegetable soup they sell at the Co-op grocery. All of that seemed to go down pretty well, though she will have to continue to monitor different foods and the amounts of them she ingests. Trish says she's going to be on the look-out for a good nutritionist when she gets home.
She will still have the plug-in IV (it automatically parcels out the liquid food supplement when she's connected to it) with her when she goes home, but that will only be temporary. When she's unplugged she'll be completely mobile. Apparently she can also take showers, but won't be able to do the swimming she loves until they remove the abdominal shunt.
So.... phase one, the most physically traumatic phase, of her ordeal is almost over.... Now she just has to heal and get stronger .... but nobody who knows her has any doubts about just how strong she already is.
Friday, September 7, 2007
And now, back to "Ironic Hospital" ....
Trish still has the stomach tube to deliver supplementary nutrition, but other than that, she's tube free, and much more mobile.
Hospital irony: The antibiotics and saline solutions that Trish was getting intravenously have been discontinued. All that was left was the IV "tap" in her left arm, so that they could connect the morphine drip if she was in pain.... but the ONLY pain she was feeling was from the IV tap in her arm that was left in in order to connect the .... well, you get the idea. Apparently this afternoon, after I left the hospital, she finally convinced someone of the vicious circularity of this circumstance, and the IV tap was removed. She's feeling much better.
Trish has been drinking juice, water and broth, and all the necessary bodily functions have been kicking in .... so .... knock on wood .... there's hope she'll be heading home in a few days. (She needs to graduate to solid food first).
Another hospital irony: Her new, post-op, dietary guidelines stress a sugar-free (or sugar reduced) diet ... with specific warnings about fruit juices, which have high concentrations of sugar .... so, of course, the first thing they give her to drink is APPLE JUICE.... and the "shake" that she's given, via the tube, has tons of sugar. All involved seem untroubled by this conundrum. (Today, she also had a big glass of warm salt water masquerading as "chicken broth". But this was scrounged up for her by a sympathetic nurse when the cafeteria was closed ... so she felt compelled to drink a little. I suspect it was one of those vile packages of powder that you add hot water to). The sugar thing isn't a catastrophic danger, as it doesn't undo anything that has been done. But, apparently, in her new, smaller stomach, sugar gets into the intestines before it's been fully processed, so the body (I think I'm getting this right) sends water to the intestines, possibly causing light-headedness and intestinal distress. The severity of this effect varies with individuals, so Trish will have to experiment.
Hopefully, when Willie came he could find some less salty broth in the cafeteria. But chances are, that was a tad salty too. It's every comedians joke, but it's still true that hospitals haven't yet figured out the healthy food thing.
Let's see....what else? As I said before, Trish had an X-ray yesterday to test the the "leak-proofness" of the new esophagus/stomach configuration, and though they gave her the green-light to start drinking liquids, there was a "shadowy spot" that caused some concern. So, today she had a CT scan to get a more precise look, and it turned out to be an anomaly caused by the way her esophagus rested on her stomach... or something. The upshot is that everything is great in that department. But, of course, in order to register the image, she needed to drink a large glass of "contrasting" liquid .... while still being under the proscription to not drink more than a couple of ounces in an hour. The CT scan was postponed for three hours while they worked that one out.... but she ended up drinking that AWFUL (I've been there) viscous, "spit-like" liquid, to no ill effect. And, as I said, the pictures looked good.
Several other humorous things occurred, but I'll let Trish write about them when she's back at the keyboard.
Which, hopefully, will be soon.
I'll keep you posted.
Hospital irony: The antibiotics and saline solutions that Trish was getting intravenously have been discontinued. All that was left was the IV "tap" in her left arm, so that they could connect the morphine drip if she was in pain.... but the ONLY pain she was feeling was from the IV tap in her arm that was left in in order to connect the .... well, you get the idea. Apparently this afternoon, after I left the hospital, she finally convinced someone of the vicious circularity of this circumstance, and the IV tap was removed. She's feeling much better.
Trish has been drinking juice, water and broth, and all the necessary bodily functions have been kicking in .... so .... knock on wood .... there's hope she'll be heading home in a few days. (She needs to graduate to solid food first).
Another hospital irony: Her new, post-op, dietary guidelines stress a sugar-free (or sugar reduced) diet ... with specific warnings about fruit juices, which have high concentrations of sugar .... so, of course, the first thing they give her to drink is APPLE JUICE.... and the "shake" that she's given, via the tube, has tons of sugar. All involved seem untroubled by this conundrum. (Today, she also had a big glass of warm salt water masquerading as "chicken broth". But this was scrounged up for her by a sympathetic nurse when the cafeteria was closed ... so she felt compelled to drink a little. I suspect it was one of those vile packages of powder that you add hot water to). The sugar thing isn't a catastrophic danger, as it doesn't undo anything that has been done. But, apparently, in her new, smaller stomach, sugar gets into the intestines before it's been fully processed, so the body (I think I'm getting this right) sends water to the intestines, possibly causing light-headedness and intestinal distress. The severity of this effect varies with individuals, so Trish will have to experiment.
Hopefully, when Willie came he could find some less salty broth in the cafeteria. But chances are, that was a tad salty too. It's every comedians joke, but it's still true that hospitals haven't yet figured out the healthy food thing.
Let's see....what else? As I said before, Trish had an X-ray yesterday to test the the "leak-proofness" of the new esophagus/stomach configuration, and though they gave her the green-light to start drinking liquids, there was a "shadowy spot" that caused some concern. So, today she had a CT scan to get a more precise look, and it turned out to be an anomaly caused by the way her esophagus rested on her stomach... or something. The upshot is that everything is great in that department. But, of course, in order to register the image, she needed to drink a large glass of "contrasting" liquid .... while still being under the proscription to not drink more than a couple of ounces in an hour. The CT scan was postponed for three hours while they worked that one out.... but she ended up drinking that AWFUL (I've been there) viscous, "spit-like" liquid, to no ill effect. And, as I said, the pictures looked good.
Several other humorous things occurred, but I'll let Trish write about them when she's back at the keyboard.
Which, hopefully, will be soon.
I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
What we learned today....
What we learned today is: If you haven't tasted anything for over 9 days, apple juice is the most incredibly wonderful thing you can imagine.
And I left before there was broth. What could THAT have been like?
Tomorrow we'll learn whether her stomach likes that kind of stuff as much as her taste-buds do.
Keep a good thought.
And I left before there was broth. What could THAT have been like?
Tomorrow we'll learn whether her stomach likes that kind of stuff as much as her taste-buds do.
Keep a good thought.
Tubeless!
Well.... not totally tubeless. There are still a number of tubes involved in Trish's recovery. But that damned (use Shakespearean pronunciation: two syllables "dam-ned") tube that started in her stomach, ran up her esophagus, and out through her nose, to be connected to a bile-sucking apparatus on the wall, and was in place for EIGHT days ... THAT tube is history!
At around 8:30 a.m. this morning (Tuesday morning to be precise) she drank a "contrasting" liquid that allowed the x-rays to register a picture of the site of her surgery, and show any possible leaks. Later in the day, when the results were deemed satisfactory, the nurses finally removed the tube (somewhere around 1:30). I was there, but left the room when they started to prepare for the extraction. (I think I would have been allowed to stay, but I was afraid of making that girlish, high-pitched squeal I had no idea I COULD make, until Katy and I found the rat in our apartment last year... at least Katy's squeal was slightly higher-pitched than mine).
When I returned the tube was gone! Trish described the process as lasting about 10 seconds, during 5 of which she thought she was going to die.
She looked great, sans tube, but had two raw patches on her cheeks where the adhesive tape holding the tube in place for the last eight days had been ripped off. The first thing she did was wash her face, and then cleverly, in that way women do that always fascinates me, applied concealer to the red patches ... and VOILA! there was the Trish we all know and love.
She was exhausted (having been awake since 3:00 a.m. thanks to a malfunctioning IV machine), but her whole aspect seemed freer and lighter.
Dr. Kuchenbecker, ever conservative, wanted to hold off food (well... jello, or something like that) for a day, as there was a spot in the x-ray that might have indicated a delicate place in the healing area. So, for the moment, her oral intake (remember, she's had nothing by mouth for 8 days!) is one ounce of water each hour. Tomorrow, hopefully, she will have some real food.
As of now, the ability to eat food, and the complimentary ability to eliminate it, are the milestones that need to be passed before she can go home. Trish also will continue having the feeding tube in her abdomen for a few weeks after she's home, to insure that she is getting enough nourishment. Her new, compact stomach needs to be "broken in", so to speak.
Anyway, she is SO much more comfortable now, and continues to recover well. She's able to talk more comfortably now, but asks that phone calls and visits be held in abeyance until she's back home ... which (knock on wood) should probably be by the end of the week.
So... all in all, a very good day.
Keep sending good thoughts, and enjoy the break in the heat wave.
At around 8:30 a.m. this morning (Tuesday morning to be precise) she drank a "contrasting" liquid that allowed the x-rays to register a picture of the site of her surgery, and show any possible leaks. Later in the day, when the results were deemed satisfactory, the nurses finally removed the tube (somewhere around 1:30). I was there, but left the room when they started to prepare for the extraction. (I think I would have been allowed to stay, but I was afraid of making that girlish, high-pitched squeal I had no idea I COULD make, until Katy and I found the rat in our apartment last year... at least Katy's squeal was slightly higher-pitched than mine).
When I returned the tube was gone! Trish described the process as lasting about 10 seconds, during 5 of which she thought she was going to die.
She looked great, sans tube, but had two raw patches on her cheeks where the adhesive tape holding the tube in place for the last eight days had been ripped off. The first thing she did was wash her face, and then cleverly, in that way women do that always fascinates me, applied concealer to the red patches ... and VOILA! there was the Trish we all know and love.
She was exhausted (having been awake since 3:00 a.m. thanks to a malfunctioning IV machine), but her whole aspect seemed freer and lighter.
Dr. Kuchenbecker, ever conservative, wanted to hold off food (well... jello, or something like that) for a day, as there was a spot in the x-ray that might have indicated a delicate place in the healing area. So, for the moment, her oral intake (remember, she's had nothing by mouth for 8 days!) is one ounce of water each hour. Tomorrow, hopefully, she will have some real food.
As of now, the ability to eat food, and the complimentary ability to eliminate it, are the milestones that need to be passed before she can go home. Trish also will continue having the feeding tube in her abdomen for a few weeks after she's home, to insure that she is getting enough nourishment. Her new, compact stomach needs to be "broken in", so to speak.
Anyway, she is SO much more comfortable now, and continues to recover well. She's able to talk more comfortably now, but asks that phone calls and visits be held in abeyance until she's back home ... which (knock on wood) should probably be by the end of the week.
So... all in all, a very good day.
Keep sending good thoughts, and enjoy the break in the heat wave.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Lazy Sunday
So.... another, relatively uneventful day. Aside from the fact that lying on the couch in Trish's air-conditioned room was much more pleasant than lying on the couch in my un-air-conditioned apartment.... there wasn't much new info today.
Trish whispered to me, "You don't have to write every day, you know". And then she pointed to a blister pack on the bedside table. "Just tell them about that", she croaked.
So: Trish was allowed to suck half of a Cepacol lozenge today. The soothe factor, and the choking factor sort of cancelled each other out, but in the grand scheme of things it was pretty exciting.
Looks like another hot day tomorrow. Stay cool.
Trish whispered to me, "You don't have to write every day, you know". And then she pointed to a blister pack on the bedside table. "Just tell them about that", she croaked.
So: Trish was allowed to suck half of a Cepacol lozenge today. The soothe factor, and the choking factor sort of cancelled each other out, but in the grand scheme of things it was pretty exciting.
Looks like another hot day tomorrow. Stay cool.
Yaaaawwwnnnn.....
Not much to report today, which can fall under the "no news is good news" category. I was at the hospital in the late a.m., until after 3:00, when Dennis Redfield came on, followed (as I understand it) by Willie in the evening.
Trish's regular doctor..... whose name I can't spell right now, but she's a wonderful woman! ... visited, and seemed pleased with T.'s progress.
Trish seemed in pretty good spirits, but the tedium of the hospital stay seems to be wearing on her a tad. At least the new room is sunny and bright, and has a more "spirit-lifting" ambiance.
She's starting to read a little (magazines and such) and was watching a little football on the t.v. today .... but she's still mostly sleeping, that being the most efficient way to pass the time; conversation still being a wearing activity. With the new couch in her room, I even joined her for a short nap.
Still, to briefly break the tedium, Trish and I have been playing our own version of the New Yorker's "caption-the-cartoon" game: I draw a cartoon which I try to draw in a totally "stream-of-consciousness" manner, having no idea for any possible caption, or even what my cartoon means. Then Trish comes up with the caption. She's pretty good. When she decides to add some pictures to this blog, maybe she'll put some up to demonstrate our handiwork.
Sooooooo.... all in all, it was a lazy Saturday. Which is good.
More tomorrow.
Trish's regular doctor..... whose name I can't spell right now, but she's a wonderful woman! ... visited, and seemed pleased with T.'s progress.
Trish seemed in pretty good spirits, but the tedium of the hospital stay seems to be wearing on her a tad. At least the new room is sunny and bright, and has a more "spirit-lifting" ambiance.
She's starting to read a little (magazines and such) and was watching a little football on the t.v. today .... but she's still mostly sleeping, that being the most efficient way to pass the time; conversation still being a wearing activity. With the new couch in her room, I even joined her for a short nap.
Still, to briefly break the tedium, Trish and I have been playing our own version of the New Yorker's "caption-the-cartoon" game: I draw a cartoon which I try to draw in a totally "stream-of-consciousness" manner, having no idea for any possible caption, or even what my cartoon means. Then Trish comes up with the caption. She's pretty good. When she decides to add some pictures to this blog, maybe she'll put some up to demonstrate our handiwork.
Sooooooo.... all in all, it was a lazy Saturday. Which is good.
More tomorrow.
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