Heavy Stuff

At the end of February I had what felt like appendicitis. After spending a lot of time in emergency, having an ultrsound, a CT, two pelvic exams and a ton of blood tests, I got to keep my appendix. I had a follow up appointment with a doc this week who gave me the wonderful news that they want to remove the pesky cyst that gave me all the trouble. And maybe the ovary it seems to have eaten (apparently the cyst is indistinguishable from the ovary). And maybe a few other parts of me depending on the tests they will do once they open me up. If all goes well, it'll be a simple laproscopic surgery and I'll be home the same day. If it gets a little more complicated I'll be in hospital for 3-4 days. Any more complicated than that, well....I'll have the Wookie sign in and tell you where to send flowers.

Actually, I'm fairly positive about the whole thing. For one thing the blood tests were only slightly off kilter and can easily be explained by a whole whack of stuff. For another thing, this will probably eliminate any more episodes like the one I went through in February. And I can't wait to find out what I'm supposed to learn from this experience.

I am very confident about the outcome because I have some inside information. I told one of my producers at work about what's going to happen and he said he and the kids (Dylan and Gabriel) will light a candle at church for me and offer up some prayers. I will have two little boys age 5 and 7 saying prayers for me. God listens to kids' prayers, right? It brought tears to my eyes of course when Terry told me this and how the boys pray. I'm in very good hands.

The doc who gave me the news this week was one I had never met before. He was very nice, appreciated my sense of humour, and said he would like to be there for the operation, "Because....", and his voice trailed off as he was trying to think of a nice way to say something. "Because you think it will be interesting?" I offered. "Yes", he replied rather sheepishly. "I am hoping to do a fellowship in Atlanta this year specifically in this area of surgery." Of course I thought that was a hoot. A man after my own heart. Here he's thinking to himself, oh boy, I want to see this one, but doesn't want to seem insensitive to my concerns.

The doctor also asked me to sign a whole whack of consent forms including one to allow them to take pictures - of anything interesting they find. Sure. Whatever. But I don't want to see them unless there's an alien in there or something.

Unbeknownst to me they had planned on doing this in June, but there was an opening April 30th so they said sign her up. As soon as I got home Wednesday I looked up what I needed to online. Mostly I wanted to know about any correlation between surgeries and relapses. The jury's still out on that.

I am actually typing this up on Friday night, but not posting it until after I tell my folks. I know, I know, I should have told them by now, but I wanted to wait for the Wookie to come with me to tell them. It's just another thing for them to worry about and my mother feels guilty enough about all the genes she's passed on to me as it is.

Now I have to make a few lists of things I need to get done before the surgery, like making a few more meals to have in the freezer, packing a bag for the hospital if there's an extended stay, and I should do up my will. That's something I've been meaning to do for awhile anyway. and I've got to do some heavy duty biking over the next few weeks as I will be out of action for at least 4 weeks after. I did tell the doc I have to be able to get on my bike for the Bike Tour in July and he thinks that's do-able.

So it's now Saturday afternoon and we told the parental units what's going on. Of course my father and I both have wicked gallows-type senses of humour which does little to make my mother feel good about the whole thing. But we talked about getting my will done, power of attorney, that sort of thing. The only other thing I hadn't thought of was the whole living will thing; you know, the directives if I'm left brain damaged or brain dead. They know what I want done if I don't come out on this side. Spread the organs around to whoever needs 'em and can use 'em, and the rest of me goes to the medical students to learn from and make fun of. But if I'm left with no consciousness, who decides to pull the plug? And how long do I want them to wait for a sign? Those are the things I will attend to this week.

So who wants my bug collection?

S.

Want to know more about the "Ovary Necklace" pictured above? Check out this link.