Came home Friday, the 18th, from the hospital. Looks like (but does not feel like) I once again escaped/out ran the Grim Reaper. Maybe outwalked him 'cause he wasn't try to hard. :)
Quit eating on Thursday. Last thing to eat was a cheese stick at 6 pm on thursday night. Showed up at the hospital at like 5 AM for sign in and all of that paperwork. Then was escorted to the pre-op room. Boy, did I have to deal with a tough ole broad there. I actually told her to fell the hell out seeing how stressed I was about the coming operation. didn't work. Last person I knew that had this operation done, died. And that is all I have running around in my head. And none of their damned assurances made me fell any better. Even though the doctor does 3 of these a day EVERY week, that is , unless something intervenes. I just could not relax my self. Every nurse in the process spoke about the doc in glowing terms... yadda dadda blabba. We've all heard it. He/she is the best surgeon since sliced bread was invented. Oh well.
Long story short, woke up in the cardiac ICU room, with all these gorgeious women surrounding me (to include my wife) - drugs=good. Even after they wore off I was still saved from the broom hilda versions.
smile -
The nurses only had one problem with me and that was because I would not eat. Had a ton of "things stuck in both arms, had a catheter in me, had a thing or two sticking out of my neck to catch the blood drainage. I cold hear them outside my room discussing my non eating and drinking. Drinking I was but only sips. I wanted no pressure that might force me to go to the bathroom.
It just so happened I had my Iphone on the counter and in it I had a picture of the cover of the pamphlet : "A patient's Guide to Managing a Short Bowel" That set off a bell with one older nurse and then she scrounged up some kind of other text book that described SBS/SGS and shared it with the other nurses. I became like a little mini-star then.
Funny but I guess you had to be there to really appreciate it. Was kinda funny though.
Once I became mobile then is when I would eat and then I would use the restroom if needed.
Heck, even the doc did not truly get SBS even after I explained it a couple of times. No criticism of the doc it is just words to him if he has never ran across someone with it. I tried to maintain my equanimity ( drugs helped there) He equated it to "dumping syndrome" and I finally ended up say to him that if that was haw he needed to process my stubbornness then so be it. It works.
Should have posted this yesterday. Am now out of words
Quit eating on Thursday. Last thing to eat was a cheese stick at 6 pm on thursday night. Showed up at the hospital at like 5 AM for sign in and all of that paperwork. Then was escorted to the pre-op room. Boy, did I have to deal with a tough ole broad there. I actually told her to fell the hell out seeing how stressed I was about the coming operation. didn't work. Last person I knew that had this operation done, died. And that is all I have running around in my head. And none of their damned assurances made me fell any better. Even though the doctor does 3 of these a day EVERY week, that is , unless something intervenes. I just could not relax my self. Every nurse in the process spoke about the doc in glowing terms... yadda dadda blabba. We've all heard it. He/she is the best surgeon since sliced bread was invented. Oh well.
Long story short, woke up in the cardiac ICU room, with all these gorgeious women surrounding me (to include my wife) - drugs=good. Even after they wore off I was still saved from the broom hilda versions.
The nurses only had one problem with me and that was because I would not eat. Had a ton of "things stuck in both arms, had a catheter in me, had a thing or two sticking out of my neck to catch the blood drainage. I cold hear them outside my room discussing my non eating and drinking. Drinking I was but only sips. I wanted no pressure that might force me to go to the bathroom.
It just so happened I had my Iphone on the counter and in it I had a picture of the cover of the pamphlet : "A patient's Guide to Managing a Short Bowel" That set off a bell with one older nurse and then she scrounged up some kind of other text book that described SBS/SGS and shared it with the other nurses. I became like a little mini-star then.
Funny but I guess you had to be there to really appreciate it. Was kinda funny though.
Once I became mobile then is when I would eat and then I would use the restroom if needed.
Heck, even the doc did not truly get SBS even after I explained it a couple of times. No criticism of the doc it is just words to him if he has never ran across someone with it. I tried to maintain my equanimity ( drugs helped there) He equated it to "dumping syndrome" and I finally ended up say to him that if that was haw he needed to process my stubbornness then so be it. It works.
Should have posted this yesterday. Am now out of words
