Can We Talk 2

A Chapter Continues

         Of course, I would be an exceptional case, not in a good way. My "rock star" oncologist has performed the same surgery on multiple people with my existing, on-going health issues, without too much trouble. I became the challenge. One day after being released from the hospital, I felt weak and listless as well as uncomfortable, and in pain. Twenty-fours hours more passed, and I didn't think I could go on. The next morning, convinced I was dying, I felt my breathing was labored and could hardly climb the stairs.

         When I felt a little nauseous standing in my kitchen, I took a deep breath. Next a loud thwacking sound woke me to find myself lying on the cold kitchen floor. I was aware that I had hit my head pretty hard, but didn't register headache. I had plenty of room to stretch out there and felt no inclination to get up. I could hear, the mid-day stock report on the TV downstairs and knew my elderly father was in the house. I thought about lying there until he came up, but knew he would panic and not know what to do. Slowly, I rolled over and got to my feet. I went to a chair with my cell phone.

         If I said I needed the hospital, my father would insist on driving me--old school. He would kill us both and maybe somebody else before we got there. I called my patient advocate who wasn't concerned about me fainting, but did express concern for hitting my head while on blood thinner. She recommended going to ER. I called my niece to come over, but she didn't answer, so I called 9-1-1. The niece called back, I explained what I needed but that the ambulance could actually get me checked in faster. They'd have me on file before I got there. She arrived about the same time they did. She stayed with my dad a while.

         You really become aware of ll the dips, cracks and pits in the road there are when your mid-section has recently undergone surgery. ER is a nightmare. Men and women together in the same area. At least a slot with a curtain was reserved for me. People were in beds in the halls. I spent over 24 hours in ER waiting for a room. ER is noisy, has no privacy and a shared bathroom. The employees barely had room to maneuver around the beds and equipment.

         Turns out I had internal hemorrhaging. My hemoglobin was way down. I needed 4 transfusions over the next 5 days, and went home with the hemoglobin still down, but improved. This set back my healing. I'm not where I should be in getting back on my feet I haven't had a good night sleep in over 2 weeks, and my gastric distress, which is normal after surgery, is still off the charts. Because of the internal bleeding and the transfusions, I'm way behind in normalizing my gut.

         I had a blood test Thursday showing the hemoglobin has only risen a bit more, so that accounts for my fatigue, Hopefully, it will rise a bit closer to normal by Monday when I do another test. At least I'm far enough past the anesthesia that I can start driving myself. I still have to be reserved in my actions for four more weeks just to allow both internal and external scars to heal. That's no trouble right now, since everything still hurts.

         That's life. That's my life anyway. No use to be bitter or down. I don't feel like reading or writing or crocheting in my stillness. Most days I don't even look at e-mail. But I take advantage of the windows like I'm having right now to do something before it closes. I'm grateful to be alive. They believe they have all the cancer. I face radiation in a few months, but that's tomorrow's worries.