Catheter Surgery Day

Tuesday October 20, 1992 Catheter Surgery Day

I don't sleep as usual when I'm apprehensive and must get up early. I'm up at 5:30. My last great shower. At 7 a.m. we're off. We make good time and arrive at 8:10. At 8:30 we can go upstairs but some confusion, Dr. Semrad forgot he was doing me today so doesn't show up until about 10 a.m. In a special examining room I'm given a small dose of something to relax me, then a couple of locals. I feel fine and talk with the doctor and nurse the whole time. They say to sponge bathe only tomorrow and come back at 10 a.m. We go to Denny's for breakfast about 1 p.m.

I don't feel like going to the meeting tonight re: decorations for New Years Eve dance.

I have one incision in my chest with stitches where the tube enters my vein, another in my breast where it comes out--no stitches, a coil of tube and catheter there.

Again, I can relate to Mom not being able to sleep the night before her procedure. Whether it's excitement or apprehension I always have a sleepless night before the event. I have learned to just automatically take a Xanax when I go to bed, and if that doesn't work, I take 2. I make sure the volume is on high on the alarm clock so that I don't sleep through it in the morning.

On September 1, 2008 I had back surgery scheduled in Sacramento which involved having nothing to eat or drink after midnight the night before, getting up early, driving 2 hours to the Sacramento Kaiser Hospital, and checking in at the waiting room area around 9 a.m. I was kept waiting until 1:30 with nothing to eat or drink and no one to keep me company as my husband had gone to work in Sacramento after dropping me off. So frustrating to be kept waiting so long! By the time my procedure was completed and I was released to go home and got something to eat it had been more than 24 hours since I had food or drink. I was happy I didn't have to spend the night in the hospital, but that 2 hour drive home was a painful one, and I felt every bump in the road.

Mom's procedure sounds pretty invasive, much more of an intrusion into her lifestyle than taking chemo medication or checking in once a week for an infusion of chemotherapy. But with the tumors growing and all her other options exhausted, this was her next step. I'll bet she hated not being able to shower.

Surgery Day

Monday October 7, 1991

SURGERY DAY!

We drive mighty early to be at Kaiser Woodland Hills by 5:30. There are about 6 of us checking in for morning surgery. Frank stays with me until they wheel me into O.R. about 8 a.m. Frank tells me my surgery took 4 hours 15 minutes. Gary had arrived about 8:30. They went down to breakfast. After the doctor reported on what he did, I went into recovery for 2 hours. Gary and Frank finally caught up to me about 2 p.m. in my room. I remember they were there but I couldn't stay awake long enough to make a sentence. They left at 4 and 6:30. Frank stayed with me until I got a shot for pain.

My blood pressure was extremely low so they couldn't give me the morphine until the medicine worked and brought up my pressure. It was good that I couldn't stay awake, because when I was, I felt the full brunt of the pain from the surgery.

I am amazed that Mom was able to make this entry in her journal the same day as her surgery. In spite of being under the influence of pain medication, her handwriting looks about the same. My brother must have taken the day off work to be at the hospital. Nice brother, good son!

Philippians 4:6-7

Sunday October 6, 1991

I really did not want to get out of bed and face the day. I couldn't quite finish my breakfast (oatmeal). My stomach and appetite are shutting down in anticipation of no food for 3-4 days. I cannot eat after 10 a.m. and must begin drinking 2 liters of Go Lightly to flush out my bowels. I am feeling anxious and depressed. My right eye is acting up with funny vision. I decide it's time to get on my knees and ask God to help me through this day and to give strength and health to all our family and John and Gary's dads (square dancing friends). I have been praying daily for God to bring me through my surgery without pain I can handle and good health and peace of mind. My bad symptoms are gone completely when I arise. I have a nice day on the phone with lots of loved ones and friends. I get all the washing and watering done. I manage to drink all the yuck stuff.

Mom was always such an incredibly strong woman. It's almost a relief to know that she is human here. Who wouldn't be anxious? It sounds like this surgery was going to take some time to recover. I'm so glad she knew to get down on her knees and give it to God, and then to ask for prayers and encouragement from her friends as well. God gave her great wisdom in treating her anxiety. Notice how in the midst of her anxiety she is still concerned about some square dancing friends and their situations and is praying for them as well. In the front of my bible I have taped the following scripture for just such moments as these:

Last Chance to Make Love

Saturday October 5, 1991

I wake Frank to make love. Maybe the last time for awhile. I wonder how long? When will I be allowed and will it hurt? I will miss my cervix. I like having it bumped. I am at peace with my impending surgery as long as I don't think about it. So I don't think about it much. When I do I feel a panic in my chest for a second.

We spend the afternoon at Lemona Open House. Three or four families come by. Nothing happens. We are home by 5:30 and I start dinner. We are going to the first square dance Fun Dance for the class people. Frank forgets about the dance and drinks a scotch, then worries that someone might smell it. No chance after our big dinner.

We have a good time dancing with Robbie and Delores.

Of course Mom is getting more and more anxious about her surgery. Sometimes, though, the more you try NOT to think about something, the more you think about it. I'm glad she got to go square dancing this night, but I'm wondering why Frank was worried about having a drink. Are the members of their club not allowed to drink alcohol before or during a dance? As for the scotch, perhaps Frank was trying to calm his anxiety as well. I have hardly ever seen him drink more than a glass of wine.

Home Again

Saturday April 13, 1991

Awoke in my own bed today after 3 days and nights at Kaiser Hospital, Woodland Hills, where I had excellent care. I really like all four of my new doctors!

Paul, Gary, Frank's mom and aunt and uncle were there with Frank during my 90 minute exploratory surgery yesterday. Frank, Paul and Gary all hugged and cried when Dr. Beinstock came out to confirm the cancer is malignant. One tumor is orange size, one is tangerine size, and many the size of raisins scattered within my abdomen. I will have chemo first!

The first thing I remember, I am back in my room with Frank, Gary and Maria. The nurse is saying I must go home now. I am amazed. I can't even keep my eyes open. I feel my stomach. It is flat again. Praise the Lord the fluid is gone. Instead there are bandages, small incisions, 2 below my belly button. Gary and Maria followed us home. It's 11:30 p.m.

Frank is mom's second husband, Paul is his son. Gary is my younger brother and Maria is his wife. The situation sounds kind of like giving birth. You go in with a big belly, come home with a flat one, and they make you go home the next day. Even though mom was exhausted after her surgery and the ordeal in the hospital, she was committed to making an entry in her journal every single day. The set of 6 journals were a gift I had given her for Christmas the year before. I never suspected they would be used for this purpose.