Melisa is doing great!
(See. I used a nutshell this time.)
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
September 23, 2007 - Play is Work
I love my kids. I love hanging with them. I love watching them interact. If you have kids you know exactly what I mean. You'll also relate to how much I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I get to go to work. Work is the new vacation. There's a few hours where all I have to do is work. Phew. That will be easy.
It isn't that taking care of the kids is hard, it's just constant. Unfortunately I'm more of a sprinter than a marathon runner. For example, my idea of a good time is let's play Playmobil for an hour, then let's sleep for three! I don't know about your kids, but mine don't speak that language. They think, let's play Playmobil for an hour, then let's play Lego, cars, build a fort, draw, play Play-Doh, take the couches apart, leave everything as it is, then go outside and roll in the dirt. There's so much to do, and so little time! I don't remember play being this much work when I was a kid.
Now that Melisa is on "vacation" I can see how much of her I'm not. There are so many pieces of our day's puzzle that she's responsible for finding and placing. I have an entirely new appreciation for her. I remember the day of her surgery. When I finally got to see her she was still groggy. Yet somehow, in the few minutes we had together, she wanted to make sure Mom and Charlie went to Skyler's open house at school and reminded me about Seth's open house the next day, and don't forget the library books, and sign the daily planner, etc., etc., etc. I don't remember that stuff five minutes after I've looked at the calendar. She's barely lucid, and more on top of it than me. She's amazing. But you already knew that.
So, an update. Melisa is doing fantastic. The pain is still there, but she's down to one Percocet every five hours instead of two every three to four hours. I can tell she's feeling physically a lot better because now she's concerned more with emotional things. Those are harder to overcome because you can't just take a Tylenol to fix it. I've been using a steady dose of love and hugs, and that seems to diminish the pain but doesn't take it away completely. It's probably a time thing and keeping her otherwise occupied. We had some great laughs with John and Shelly last night. Thanks for hanging with us, guys. And thanks for dinner! It was so much fun and we were laughing so hard, but I think Mel paid for it at midnight when she needed two Percocet again. She said it was worth it.
There are a few physical aspects that we're concerned about and going to call the doctor on tomorrow. If you're worried about Too Much Information, skip ahead . . . With the drainage tubes removed the fluid is building up inside. Her right side seems to be doing great, but the left looks more swollen than it should. I saw it and said, "Alright!" Mel disagreed, "No. It's not alright." There was also some weird looking scarring that we think needs to be checked. I'll keep you posted.
Before leaving, I want to say a quick thank you again to everyone. Every day we're surprised with gifts of food, company, cards, calls, emails, child care, etc. On Thursday, Linda brought us a delicious dinner. The roasted chicken was one of the best we've ever had! Thank you, Linda for taking the time to come see us and feed us.
On Friday Ame came with a ginormous pizza and then some. Luckily I've met Ame, or I'd think she was fictitious. I don't know how many times she's come bearing gifts, but I haven't seen her once. Mel assures me it was her. She's like a thief in the night, except she leaves stuff and it's during the day. Thank you, Ame. You've been amazing. Thank you for taking great care of us and coordinating meals for us from so many incredible people. We appreciate you!
Yesterday morning Mel's mom left. She's been such a tremendous help. I'll probably miss her the most because I have to do all the stuff she's been doing! Around lunch time I was wandering around in a daze like a bird that had just made unexpected contact with a window. I knew I should be preparing lunch, but couldn't decide where to start. My peripheral vision was becoming fuzzy. Fortunately for the occupants of our house, the doorbell rang and in walked Minu (my Dad's wife). She brought us a "snack" which instantly got renamed "lunch". See. I CAN make lunch. Anyway, we had a great visit with Minu, and she offered to bring lunch again today. We didn't want to be rude, so we said, "Please?" Thank you, Minu. You always cook for us, and we always love it!
This afternoon Mel got to spend some quality time with Arin and friends. She is so happy to just be doing some normal, fun things. Thanks for taking care of her, Arin. She loves spending time with you and it keeps her mind off things that are otherwise depressing.
Well that's the current news in a pumpkin shell. I'll try to use a nutshell next time.
_______________________________________
p.s. Sorry Ame. I totally butchered your name without realizing it. I fixed it, now that it's too late. :)
It isn't that taking care of the kids is hard, it's just constant. Unfortunately I'm more of a sprinter than a marathon runner. For example, my idea of a good time is let's play Playmobil for an hour, then let's sleep for three! I don't know about your kids, but mine don't speak that language. They think, let's play Playmobil for an hour, then let's play Lego, cars, build a fort, draw, play Play-Doh, take the couches apart, leave everything as it is, then go outside and roll in the dirt. There's so much to do, and so little time! I don't remember play being this much work when I was a kid.
Now that Melisa is on "vacation" I can see how much of her I'm not. There are so many pieces of our day's puzzle that she's responsible for finding and placing. I have an entirely new appreciation for her. I remember the day of her surgery. When I finally got to see her she was still groggy. Yet somehow, in the few minutes we had together, she wanted to make sure Mom and Charlie went to Skyler's open house at school and reminded me about Seth's open house the next day, and don't forget the library books, and sign the daily planner, etc., etc., etc. I don't remember that stuff five minutes after I've looked at the calendar. She's barely lucid, and more on top of it than me. She's amazing. But you already knew that.
So, an update. Melisa is doing fantastic. The pain is still there, but she's down to one Percocet every five hours instead of two every three to four hours. I can tell she's feeling physically a lot better because now she's concerned more with emotional things. Those are harder to overcome because you can't just take a Tylenol to fix it. I've been using a steady dose of love and hugs, and that seems to diminish the pain but doesn't take it away completely. It's probably a time thing and keeping her otherwise occupied. We had some great laughs with John and Shelly last night. Thanks for hanging with us, guys. And thanks for dinner! It was so much fun and we were laughing so hard, but I think Mel paid for it at midnight when she needed two Percocet again. She said it was worth it.
There are a few physical aspects that we're concerned about and going to call the doctor on tomorrow. If you're worried about Too Much Information, skip ahead . . . With the drainage tubes removed the fluid is building up inside. Her right side seems to be doing great, but the left looks more swollen than it should. I saw it and said, "Alright!" Mel disagreed, "No. It's not alright." There was also some weird looking scarring that we think needs to be checked. I'll keep you posted.
Before leaving, I want to say a quick thank you again to everyone. Every day we're surprised with gifts of food, company, cards, calls, emails, child care, etc. On Thursday, Linda brought us a delicious dinner. The roasted chicken was one of the best we've ever had! Thank you, Linda for taking the time to come see us and feed us.
On Friday Ame came with a ginormous pizza and then some. Luckily I've met Ame, or I'd think she was fictitious. I don't know how many times she's come bearing gifts, but I haven't seen her once. Mel assures me it was her. She's like a thief in the night, except she leaves stuff and it's during the day. Thank you, Ame. You've been amazing. Thank you for taking great care of us and coordinating meals for us from so many incredible people. We appreciate you!
Yesterday morning Mel's mom left. She's been such a tremendous help. I'll probably miss her the most because I have to do all the stuff she's been doing! Around lunch time I was wandering around in a daze like a bird that had just made unexpected contact with a window. I knew I should be preparing lunch, but couldn't decide where to start. My peripheral vision was becoming fuzzy. Fortunately for the occupants of our house, the doorbell rang and in walked Minu (my Dad's wife). She brought us a "snack" which instantly got renamed "lunch". See. I CAN make lunch. Anyway, we had a great visit with Minu, and she offered to bring lunch again today. We didn't want to be rude, so we said, "Please?" Thank you, Minu. You always cook for us, and we always love it!
This afternoon Mel got to spend some quality time with Arin and friends. She is so happy to just be doing some normal, fun things. Thanks for taking care of her, Arin. She loves spending time with you and it keeps her mind off things that are otherwise depressing.
Well that's the current news in a pumpkin shell. I'll try to use a nutshell next time.
_______________________________________
p.s. Sorry Ame. I totally butchered your name without realizing it. I fixed it, now that it's too late. :)
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Sept 22 - What Surgery Feels Like
Just so we're clear, I'm living on Percocet and prayers (with Valium for good measure thanks to the brilliance of my plastic surgeon) right now. So I may be a litle off. Plus it's fivo o-clock in the morning and I can't get comfortable to sleep. But anyway, many ask "oooh, how are you?" or say "you sound so great! you must be recovering nicely." And I probably am, each day it's a little easier to move, and I'm not snowed out on the couch or anything.
However, this is what it feels like...
They searched and found the biggest needle in the hospital and with cheery smiles pumped my left chest full-to-bursting of saline - like you would any turkey you were preparing to baste for the holidays. Then they carved OFF the right side of my chest. Dr. Poulin played his favorite banjo ditty on my brachial plexus (the nerve complex that comes off the spinal cord and down your arm) for half an hour, then they sewed the right side back on - INSIDE OUT! It looks yucky and it feels yucky. Plus it often feels like there's a growly momma gorilla sitting on my chest, and she doesn't want to move.
And sometimes I'm a little emotional about that.
So people pat my head and tell me it's normal and to be expected. I just thought you all might want to know that it doesn't really FEEL normal. So sometimes I might say something that's a bit off color or unkind. Sorry in advance... Sleep well...
Mel
However, this is what it feels like...
They searched and found the biggest needle in the hospital and with cheery smiles pumped my left chest full-to-bursting of saline - like you would any turkey you were preparing to baste for the holidays. Then they carved OFF the right side of my chest. Dr. Poulin played his favorite banjo ditty on my brachial plexus (the nerve complex that comes off the spinal cord and down your arm) for half an hour, then they sewed the right side back on - INSIDE OUT! It looks yucky and it feels yucky. Plus it often feels like there's a growly momma gorilla sitting on my chest, and she doesn't want to move.
And sometimes I'm a little emotional about that.
So people pat my head and tell me it's normal and to be expected. I just thought you all might want to know that it doesn't really FEEL normal. So sometimes I might say something that's a bit off color or unkind. Sorry in advance... Sleep well...
Mel
Friday, September 21, 2007
September 21 - Moms are Gold
Just a quick note because Scott says people would like to hear from me. I don't feel like I have anything to say that's witty or even intelligent or helpful. I'm alive (yea!) and processing this whole surgery drama not nearly as well as I had hoped. My mother is the main reason I'm surviving. She has had to manage the household and take care of every little thing for me. I couldn't get out of bed or wash up or get a drink of water for days. She's amazing and I'm so glad she was available to help. I will miss her when she goes tomorrow, but I know her wonderful care and talents are needed in the next stage of her journey. She's driving to California to join her husband in their new home.
Thanks to all the great friends from Memorial Home Care who have supported us with meals and groceries this week so Mom could focus on me and the kids without getting too burned out.
More soon... Mel
Thanks to all the great friends from Memorial Home Care who have supported us with meals and groceries this week so Mom could focus on me and the kids without getting too burned out.
More soon... Mel
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
September 19, 2007 - Hang With Me
I wanted to tell you a sweet little story first. But then I thought, "Naw. I'll wait 'til later. Give you something to look forward to." So now you have to wade through acres of amazing literary real-estate just to get to the story at the end. No cheating and skipping ahead. Get your boots on and start wading.
Yesterday was a great day. Melisa was feeling so much better. She had a couple of appointments, so I took the morning off and hung out with her. The first appointment was the much anticipated visit to Dr. Shulman, the plastic surgeon. We got there right at 9 and were ushered in almost immediately. If you ever find yourself in the situation where you need to make an appointment with the doctor, I recommend choosing the first appointment of the day. Unless you're a weirdo and like waiting.
p.s. Don't tell everyone this secret. We can't ALL be first.
The nurse proceeded to remove the bandages from the surgery sites while Mel's skin threw a tantrum. Apparently her skin had a master plan: We must bond with the tape indefinitely! The nurse said, "No." She must have kids. After a bit of coaxing and threatening, the bandages were begrudgingly released and Dr. Shulman came in.
There hadn't been much drainage from the surgery sites for the last day, so she decided to remove the drainage tubes. (Mel has been singing "Free Bird" ever since.) Throughout the process I used my vast knowledge of Lamaze and took deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth and I still almost fainted. Weird, because it didn't even hurt me that much and I wasn't watching. (Just because my hands were covering my eyes doesn't make me a chicken.) Mel handled it way better than I did. I know. You're not surprised.
Melisa has been kind of pushing it for the last few days. She's been frustrated that she can't be more mobile and do more. I've been trying to get her to knock it off and chill, to no avail. So I asked Dr. Shulman to please tell her it was okay to sit around and do nothing. Relax. Read. Rest. Let people do for HER. I think it worked. Dr. S told her to quit doing stuff and take the time to heal. Two weeks from now we're going back to see her, and she may let Mel start doing light duty things. At that time they'll also start filling the tissue expanders. A week after that they'll remove the stitches. From there it's just filling the tissue expanders every couple of weeks until the cleavage is at the appropriate level of awesomeness. The doc said there's a mixture of cocoa butter and vitamin E that you need to rub on the expanding area to avoid stretch marks. Ok. If I have to. :)
Our next appointment was with Genetic Counseling at 11. We got there a bit early, but they were able to see us right away and proceeded to cram thirty seconds of info into fifteen minutes. Here's your family tree. The blah blah one gene looks great, but there's a variance on the blah blah two gene. Which means we don't know anything. Could be something, but could just as easily be nothing. No one else with cancer in Mel's family tree has had testing, so until they do there's no way to know if the variance on the blah blah two gene means anything. Blah blah blah. That's how I feel about that appointment.
That evening, Amy played Santa Claus. Again. She brought frozen pancakes we can just pop in the toaster, special fiber treats from Cathy and dinner from Rose. I'm going to be spoiled! Thank you so much for dinner, Rose, it was excellent. And thank you Amy for taking the time to come over.
Today Melisa had an appointment with the Oncologist. I wanted to go so badly because they have a killer selection of Tootsie Pops there. Unfortunately Naomi's swimming orientation was this morning as well, so I opted to show off my farmer's tan (yeah, baby) at the pool while Elizabeth (Mel's mom) took Mel to the doc. News from the Oncologist? Melisa is COMPLETELY cancer free! She has no greater risk of developing cancer again than anyone else. Melisa - 1, Cancer - 0.
Diane called this evening to say she was on the way over and she was bringing dinner. She lied. When she got here she had to make THREE trips to bring everything in! Not only did she bring dinner, she brought groceries and supplies as well. Apparently her husband, Louie (sorry if I'm butchering the spelling!), is the culinary genius and the one responsible for this evening's feast. Thank you both, it was delicious! I managed to share some of the Capri Sun with the kids, but couldn't bring myself to part with the cookies. They arrived just in time. One more day and I would have been going through withdrawals. Have you met Diane? She didn't stop there. She also hung out for a little while talking with Mel and painting her and Naomi's nails. Thank you again, Diane and Louie. You are so kind and we appreciate you.
Yesterday was a great day. Melisa was feeling so much better. She had a couple of appointments, so I took the morning off and hung out with her. The first appointment was the much anticipated visit to Dr. Shulman, the plastic surgeon. We got there right at 9 and were ushered in almost immediately. If you ever find yourself in the situation where you need to make an appointment with the doctor, I recommend choosing the first appointment of the day. Unless you're a weirdo and like waiting.
p.s. Don't tell everyone this secret. We can't ALL be first.
The nurse proceeded to remove the bandages from the surgery sites while Mel's skin threw a tantrum. Apparently her skin had a master plan: We must bond with the tape indefinitely! The nurse said, "No." She must have kids. After a bit of coaxing and threatening, the bandages were begrudgingly released and Dr. Shulman came in.
There hadn't been much drainage from the surgery sites for the last day, so she decided to remove the drainage tubes. (Mel has been singing "Free Bird" ever since.) Throughout the process I used my vast knowledge of Lamaze and took deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth and I still almost fainted. Weird, because it didn't even hurt me that much and I wasn't watching. (Just because my hands were covering my eyes doesn't make me a chicken.) Mel handled it way better than I did. I know. You're not surprised.
Melisa has been kind of pushing it for the last few days. She's been frustrated that she can't be more mobile and do more. I've been trying to get her to knock it off and chill, to no avail. So I asked Dr. Shulman to please tell her it was okay to sit around and do nothing. Relax. Read. Rest. Let people do for HER. I think it worked. Dr. S told her to quit doing stuff and take the time to heal. Two weeks from now we're going back to see her, and she may let Mel start doing light duty things. At that time they'll also start filling the tissue expanders. A week after that they'll remove the stitches. From there it's just filling the tissue expanders every couple of weeks until the cleavage is at the appropriate level of awesomeness. The doc said there's a mixture of cocoa butter and vitamin E that you need to rub on the expanding area to avoid stretch marks. Ok. If I have to. :)
Our next appointment was with Genetic Counseling at 11. We got there a bit early, but they were able to see us right away and proceeded to cram thirty seconds of info into fifteen minutes. Here's your family tree. The blah blah one gene looks great, but there's a variance on the blah blah two gene. Which means we don't know anything. Could be something, but could just as easily be nothing. No one else with cancer in Mel's family tree has had testing, so until they do there's no way to know if the variance on the blah blah two gene means anything. Blah blah blah. That's how I feel about that appointment.
That evening, Amy played Santa Claus. Again. She brought frozen pancakes we can just pop in the toaster, special fiber treats from Cathy and dinner from Rose. I'm going to be spoiled! Thank you so much for dinner, Rose, it was excellent. And thank you Amy for taking the time to come over.
Today Melisa had an appointment with the Oncologist. I wanted to go so badly because they have a killer selection of Tootsie Pops there. Unfortunately Naomi's swimming orientation was this morning as well, so I opted to show off my farmer's tan (yeah, baby) at the pool while Elizabeth (Mel's mom) took Mel to the doc. News from the Oncologist? Melisa is COMPLETELY cancer free! She has no greater risk of developing cancer again than anyone else. Melisa - 1, Cancer - 0.
Diane called this evening to say she was on the way over and she was bringing dinner. She lied. When she got here she had to make THREE trips to bring everything in! Not only did she bring dinner, she brought groceries and supplies as well. Apparently her husband, Louie (sorry if I'm butchering the spelling!), is the culinary genius and the one responsible for this evening's feast. Thank you both, it was delicious! I managed to share some of the Capri Sun with the kids, but couldn't bring myself to part with the cookies. They arrived just in time. One more day and I would have been going through withdrawals. Have you met Diane? She didn't stop there. She also hung out for a little while talking with Mel and painting her and Naomi's nails. Thank you again, Diane and Louie. You are so kind and we appreciate you.
Alright. You're done wading. Here's the story I wanted to tell you . . . Tonight I was putting Naomi to bed. She said prayers, snuggled up with Pinkie and Blankie and had one last swallow of water. As I was tucking her in, she gazed up at me with her big green eyes and whispered, "Hang with me, Daddy." "What?" I responded. I wasn't sure I'd heard her correctly. She wrapped her little arms around my arm and laid her head against my shoulder. "Hang with me, in my bed. I can move over." So I did. It was such a sweet moment. One I'll remember forever.
Thank you for that. I've been able to spend so much time with my family these last couple of weeks because of you. Not having to deal with much of the mundane, and just being able to focus on being a husband and father has been an incredible blessing. Thank you for taking care of us. And thank you for letting me hang with my family.Monday, September 17, 2007
September 17, 2007 - Sleepy Time
I can't believe it's been four days since my last post! Apparently being home is busier than I expected. At the end of every day, I place the blog on one scale and sleepy time on the other. Sleepy time's been winning. Obviously. Sorry about that.
Melisa is doing so well. I know she doesn't feel like she is, but I notice the difference. On Friday, 9/14 she had the pain catheters removed. Since then she's been managing pain with two tablets of Percocet every 4 hours, but you can tell when it's been 3-4 hours. She starts looking uncomfortable and moving around less. Otherwise, she's been up and around much more than I would be.
On Saturday I took the boys out for the day to entertain them (and me) and run errands. We were walking out of AutoZone when a guy in a baseball cap stopped me and asked if I was Miles' husband. I wracked my brain. I had been totally preoccupied and wasn't paying attention. Did he say, "Miles' husband, or my ex-husband?" I was caught off guard and rather than ask him to repeat the question, I said, "Nope" and continued to my car. Suddenly I was struck by a small glimmer of recognition in the dank and musty recesses of my cluttered mind. I thought maybe he looked vaguely familiar. Then Seth asks, "Did he say, 'Are you Mel's husband?'" Crap! I went running back into the store and sure enough, it was Harry. Sorry Harry. It was great to see you, and thanks for covering for Melisa.
That evening my Dad and family came by bearing gifts of cake and stimulating conversation. I know Mel appreciates all the visits. It's nice to have some bursts of human interaction when you've been wrapped in a medicated cocoon of darkness for most of the day.
Sunday the home care nurse came, checked Mel's vitals, and changed her bandages. She'll probably be having the drainage tubes removed this week, which will be nice. I imagine it's kind of confining having miles of tubes wrestling with you through the night. Speaking of wrestling, I took the kids out to the zoo and mall for a big part of the day. So I missed the visit from Amy, which I heard was a party. I'm not surprised and she didn't come empty handed. One of our walls is a kaleidoscope of the cards she brought. Mel is lucky to have such a neat variety of caring, compassionate people to work with. Thanks for coming by Amy.
Our house is layered in flowers and cards. It's kind of nice. Mel's mom has been a godsend, watching kids, cooking, doing laundry, keeping Melisa company. She leaves on Friday, but we already have people asking how they can help. Thanks for keeping in touch and checking in. I'll try not to be such a stranger but if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, you'll know sleepy time won.
Melisa is doing so well. I know she doesn't feel like she is, but I notice the difference. On Friday, 9/14 she had the pain catheters removed. Since then she's been managing pain with two tablets of Percocet every 4 hours, but you can tell when it's been 3-4 hours. She starts looking uncomfortable and moving around less. Otherwise, she's been up and around much more than I would be.
On Saturday I took the boys out for the day to entertain them (and me) and run errands. We were walking out of AutoZone when a guy in a baseball cap stopped me and asked if I was Miles' husband. I wracked my brain. I had been totally preoccupied and wasn't paying attention. Did he say, "Miles' husband, or my ex-husband?" I was caught off guard and rather than ask him to repeat the question, I said, "Nope" and continued to my car. Suddenly I was struck by a small glimmer of recognition in the dank and musty recesses of my cluttered mind. I thought maybe he looked vaguely familiar. Then Seth asks, "Did he say, 'Are you Mel's husband?'" Crap! I went running back into the store and sure enough, it was Harry. Sorry Harry. It was great to see you, and thanks for covering for Melisa.
That evening my Dad and family came by bearing gifts of cake and stimulating conversation. I know Mel appreciates all the visits. It's nice to have some bursts of human interaction when you've been wrapped in a medicated cocoon of darkness for most of the day.
Sunday the home care nurse came, checked Mel's vitals, and changed her bandages. She'll probably be having the drainage tubes removed this week, which will be nice. I imagine it's kind of confining having miles of tubes wrestling with you through the night. Speaking of wrestling, I took the kids out to the zoo and mall for a big part of the day. So I missed the visit from Amy, which I heard was a party. I'm not surprised and she didn't come empty handed. One of our walls is a kaleidoscope of the cards she brought. Mel is lucky to have such a neat variety of caring, compassionate people to work with. Thanks for coming by Amy.
Our house is layered in flowers and cards. It's kind of nice. Mel's mom has been a godsend, watching kids, cooking, doing laundry, keeping Melisa company. She leaves on Friday, but we already have people asking how they can help. Thanks for keeping in touch and checking in. I'll try not to be such a stranger but if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, you'll know sleepy time won.
p.s. I came home today to a FEAST! Thank you so much Tammy and fam. You're amazing. Not sure how you squeezed us in, between being taxi service and feeding the rest of the county. THESE chocolate chip cookies are MINE. :)
Thursday, September 13, 2007
September 13, 2007 - Home
This is going to be a quickie. I just wanted to let you know that we got home today around 7pm and Melisa is doing fantastic. Way better than I expected.
This morning we were kind of in limbo, hoping the doc would give the go-ahead for us to leave. Fortunately, as the agony of waiting was about to engulf and suffocate us, Dan and Arin stopped by! Thanks for taking the time from your crazy schedules and daily commitments to come see us, guys. It meant a lot and it's always nice to see a familiar face when you're in such a foreign environment. Plus the Peanut M&M's made me feel much better!
At around noon, Melisa noticed fluid dripping from her IV site. Not yummy. We called a nurse STAT (which she didn't appreciate, her name was Donna), and she promptly removed the IV from it's naughty location. We were in the "Going Home Today" mode, so rather than stick another IV in, we asked if Melisa could just start taking antibiotics orally. The doc gave two thumbs up on that proposal.
Freed from the chains of captivity, Melisa proceeded to run slow laps (very slow, more like slow walking) around the hallways. She was still in a lot of pain, but it was being better managed. The doc came by around a half past nap time. If' she'd come at four, she would have caught me with my mouth agape and drool slipping out the side. Anyway, she said Melisa was good to go and we proceeded to prepare for departure.
Mel currently has 6 tubes coming/going from her person. There is one tube going to each surgery site that delivers a constant measured dose of pain medication. There are also two tubes coming from each surgery site that deliver fluid to a pouch on either side of her. These little pouches need to be emptied of their fluid several times a day. That's my job. Those of you who know me, know that I've nearly fainted when giving blood. It's not the pain so much, or the blood. I think I just start thinking about the fact that there's a foreign object INSIDE ME sucking the juice out. Normally I am pretty squeamish around medical blood-and-guts type stuff anyway. But somehow my mind/body goes into survival mode and switches off the gag/barf/faint reflex when it needs to. Fortunately, that reflex is switched off and I was able to empty one of the pouches after minimal instruction. Yes. I can pour liquid into a cup. Save your applause.
After a few final instructions and a small tower of prescriptions, Melisa got dressed and we made our escape. When we got home, she rested on the couch and spent some time with her Mom, Charlie and the kids while I went to get the prescriptions filled. I got back and Mel was ready for bed, so we transferred her downstairs. She's moving around so well, needing only minimal assistance. As she was getting into bed, I asked if she was happy to be home. She gave a big, genuine smile, and said, "Yes." I'm glad they didn't send her home yesterday, but today she was ready. She's resting peacefully right now, and I'm content knowing the worst is over. Thank you for your prayers. They're obviously working!
This ended up not being a quickie. Sorry. The good news is you can stop reading whenever you want and it won't even offend me. Unless you tell me. Then I'll be ticked.
In hindsight, here's a small list of things not to do when caring for someone fresh out of surgery.
DON'T:
This morning we were kind of in limbo, hoping the doc would give the go-ahead for us to leave. Fortunately, as the agony of waiting was about to engulf and suffocate us, Dan and Arin stopped by! Thanks for taking the time from your crazy schedules and daily commitments to come see us, guys. It meant a lot and it's always nice to see a familiar face when you're in such a foreign environment. Plus the Peanut M&M's made me feel much better!
At around noon, Melisa noticed fluid dripping from her IV site. Not yummy. We called a nurse STAT (which she didn't appreciate, her name was Donna), and she promptly removed the IV from it's naughty location. We were in the "Going Home Today" mode, so rather than stick another IV in, we asked if Melisa could just start taking antibiotics orally. The doc gave two thumbs up on that proposal.
Freed from the chains of captivity, Melisa proceeded to run slow laps (very slow, more like slow walking) around the hallways. She was still in a lot of pain, but it was being better managed. The doc came by around a half past nap time. If' she'd come at four, she would have caught me with my mouth agape and drool slipping out the side. Anyway, she said Melisa was good to go and we proceeded to prepare for departure.
Mel currently has 6 tubes coming/going from her person. There is one tube going to each surgery site that delivers a constant measured dose of pain medication. There are also two tubes coming from each surgery site that deliver fluid to a pouch on either side of her. These little pouches need to be emptied of their fluid several times a day. That's my job. Those of you who know me, know that I've nearly fainted when giving blood. It's not the pain so much, or the blood. I think I just start thinking about the fact that there's a foreign object INSIDE ME sucking the juice out. Normally I am pretty squeamish around medical blood-and-guts type stuff anyway. But somehow my mind/body goes into survival mode and switches off the gag/barf/faint reflex when it needs to. Fortunately, that reflex is switched off and I was able to empty one of the pouches after minimal instruction. Yes. I can pour liquid into a cup. Save your applause.
After a few final instructions and a small tower of prescriptions, Melisa got dressed and we made our escape. When we got home, she rested on the couch and spent some time with her Mom, Charlie and the kids while I went to get the prescriptions filled. I got back and Mel was ready for bed, so we transferred her downstairs. She's moving around so well, needing only minimal assistance. As she was getting into bed, I asked if she was happy to be home. She gave a big, genuine smile, and said, "Yes." I'm glad they didn't send her home yesterday, but today she was ready. She's resting peacefully right now, and I'm content knowing the worst is over. Thank you for your prayers. They're obviously working!
This ended up not being a quickie. Sorry. The good news is you can stop reading whenever you want and it won't even offend me. Unless you tell me. Then I'll be ticked.
In hindsight, here's a small list of things not to do when caring for someone fresh out of surgery.
DON'T:
- Forget the Insurance Card
- Call "dibs" on the bed when the patient is in the bathroom
- Eat a Garlic and Onion Ham Sandwich in the patient's room
- Take a walk using the IV stand with rollers that don't rotate - it's a drag. Ha Ha. I crack me up.
- Faint
- Bug the hospital staff - they don't think you're funny.
- Bring the Camaro to ride home in
I'm sure there's more. That was just off the top of my head. See you tomorrow. Probably.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
September 12, 2007 - Paper Cuts
I got a paper cut one time. Right on the end of my finger. All of a sudden everything I did involved using that finger. It was constantly in the way, burning, aching and throbbing. I was miserable and irritated that something so insignificant could have such a big impact on my daily life. Now, as I see what Melisa is dealing with, it makes the little things seem inconsequential. A lot of petty irritations that were affecting my life a week ago don't carry as much weight anymore.
My problems diminish in importance when I see how much it hurts my wife just to blink. She's dealing with things like taking 20 minutes to go to the bathroom (the bathroom is 5 feet away), which is something that would normally take 30 seconds. It is going to be a lengthy journey to recovery, but I can already see improvements.
This evening, bathroom trips are taking about 3 minutes with minimal walking assistance. Mel is getting past the 1000 mark on the little breathing doohickey thingamajigabobber (last night she was just barely past 0). She's down to pain pills every four hours instead of IV every two. She's much more alert when she's awake, and she seems in good spirits.
They are keeping her overnight again. Dr. Shulman is supposed to be back tomorrow around noon to see how she's doing and probably release her. I actually feel like tomorrow she'll be ready. She looks great and it's encouraging to see her in a good mood. Having the pain manageable has made a huge difference.
Claudia wrote us a neat email today. She pointed out that the worst is over. Melisa is cancer free! Now we can focus on healing, celebrating and moving on. I like that. Especially the celebrating part.
I'll talk to you later on. Probably after I get Melisa home tomorrow. In the mean time, thank you again. I'm staggered by the way you love us and are taking care of us. From our family, to our friends, to people I hardly know. It blows me away that even though you have your own challenges and lives to deal with, you're taking the time and making the effort to be a part of ours. I'm glad no one else is in the room right now and Melisa is sleeping, because it makes me cry just thinking about it. I don't know how else to tell you. Thank you.
My problems diminish in importance when I see how much it hurts my wife just to blink. She's dealing with things like taking 20 minutes to go to the bathroom (the bathroom is 5 feet away), which is something that would normally take 30 seconds. It is going to be a lengthy journey to recovery, but I can already see improvements.
This evening, bathroom trips are taking about 3 minutes with minimal walking assistance. Mel is getting past the 1000 mark on the little breathing doohickey thingamajigabobber (last night she was just barely past 0). She's down to pain pills every four hours instead of IV every two. She's much more alert when she's awake, and she seems in good spirits.
They are keeping her overnight again. Dr. Shulman is supposed to be back tomorrow around noon to see how she's doing and probably release her. I actually feel like tomorrow she'll be ready. She looks great and it's encouraging to see her in a good mood. Having the pain manageable has made a huge difference.
Claudia wrote us a neat email today. She pointed out that the worst is over. Melisa is cancer free! Now we can focus on healing, celebrating and moving on. I like that. Especially the celebrating part.
I'll talk to you later on. Probably after I get Melisa home tomorrow. In the mean time, thank you again. I'm staggered by the way you love us and are taking care of us. From our family, to our friends, to people I hardly know. It blows me away that even though you have your own challenges and lives to deal with, you're taking the time and making the effort to be a part of ours. I'm glad no one else is in the room right now and Melisa is sleeping, because it makes me cry just thinking about it. I don't know how else to tell you. Thank you.
September 12, 2007 - Helpless
It's hard to sit here, helpless, and look at someone you love who is so miserable. I wish I could fix it. Make the pain go away. Something. All I am is in the way. Nurses coming in and out, tripping over my feet. It feels like one of those little plastic puzzles. You know the ones with the sliding numbers from 1 to 15? You scramble the numbers and then try to put them back in order. That's what we're doing. We shuffle about the cramped room, trading places, trying not to trip over the myriad tubes and cables.
Last night, I finally got to see Melisa around 8:45. She had been in recovery for more than two hours. When I got to her room, she was in a lot of pain and pretty groggy. I spent about 45 minutes with her, made sure they gave her some more pain meds, and went home. Everyone was sound asleep, so I joined them.
Not to be a wimp, but 7:30 came early! Breakfast for kids, clothes on, hair brushed and we're out the door. Three kids, three different schools, but it's nice to be able to spend a little car time with them. I missed them last night. They all seem to be doing great. I think it will sink in more when mommy comes home. It's been such a relief for me having Elizabeth (Mel's mom) and Charlie staying with us for a week. Gives me the chance to be with Mel and not have to stress.
I got to the hospital around 9:30am. Melisa looks much better this morning, although she's still in a lot of pain. Her throat is very dry, so it's difficult for her to talk, but we've been able to chat a bit. Right now she's resting peacefully. Shelly just dropped by with a bushel of love and a bag full of magazines. You should have seen Mel's eyes light up! Thank you for coming, Shelly. She's received so many emails, blog notes, cards, prayers and phone calls in the last 24 hours. Thank you so much for caring about her and helping me take care of her.
I'm not sure yet if they'll keep her another night. I'll write more later on as soon as I know what's up.
Last night, I finally got to see Melisa around 8:45. She had been in recovery for more than two hours. When I got to her room, she was in a lot of pain and pretty groggy. I spent about 45 minutes with her, made sure they gave her some more pain meds, and went home. Everyone was sound asleep, so I joined them.
Not to be a wimp, but 7:30 came early! Breakfast for kids, clothes on, hair brushed and we're out the door. Three kids, three different schools, but it's nice to be able to spend a little car time with them. I missed them last night. They all seem to be doing great. I think it will sink in more when mommy comes home. It's been such a relief for me having Elizabeth (Mel's mom) and Charlie staying with us for a week. Gives me the chance to be with Mel and not have to stress.
I got to the hospital around 9:30am. Melisa looks much better this morning, although she's still in a lot of pain. Her throat is very dry, so it's difficult for her to talk, but we've been able to chat a bit. Right now she's resting peacefully. Shelly just dropped by with a bushel of love and a bag full of magazines. You should have seen Mel's eyes light up! Thank you for coming, Shelly. She's received so many emails, blog notes, cards, prayers and phone calls in the last 24 hours. Thank you so much for caring about her and helping me take care of her.
I'm not sure yet if they'll keep her another night. I'll write more later on as soon as I know what's up.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
September 11, 2007 - Twin Towers
Before I start, I wanted to send props out to one of our good friends (I'm not going to mention any names, but it rhymes with JAMI). She made the observation that September 11 is the day the Twin Towers came down. What are the chances of that! Mel and I thought it was hilarious and appropriate to our situation, and wanted to share it with you. The difference between the Twin Towers in NYC and the ones here, is that these are being rebuilt! Thanks, Jami, for keeping us smiling through this!
_______________________
Today dawned cool and beautiful. The sky was clear and the humidity had all but disappeared - at least temporarily. There was no obvious sign that today was going to be life changing, momentous and tragic. It makes you wonder what kind of crap people deal with on a daily basis and no one knows about it. All the people we pass who are dealing with their own set of challenges, and there isn't even a storm or tornado to acknowledge it.
I was thinking about that on my way to pick Mel up from work this morning. She crammed in three patients on her way in to surgery. She's amazing. If it had been me, I would have milked the whole week getting "ready" for surgery, taking off as much time as possible. Not her. She's way more responsible than me. Anyway, it's been a blur of activity getting prepared for Mel to be off for a few weeks. The preparation has paid off, and this morning on our way to the hospital we were content in knowing things are in order.
We arrived at Memorial Hospital around 11:45 this morning. We checked in and were directed to floor 7. Mel got to be weighed and have her temp and B/P taken (LUCKY!), then we were discarded in room 4. It's too bad there is so much sitting around time. The longer you sit, the more time you have to dwell on the impending doom. And I forgot the gin cards. Shame on me. Mel was presented with some suggestive and well-cut-for-someone-else hospital gowns as well as a pair of booties and some knee-high stockings. I must confess, the knee-highs looked pretty hot. I may have to invest in a pair of those for her. Wait. Is that too personal?
The IV specialist came in, and after examining the lines on the back of Mel's right hand and checking the alignment of the stars, Mel was hooked up to an IV for antibiotics. The wheelchair arrived soon after and we were escorted through the hospital's labyrinth to the ultrasound area. As we were waiting at the next stop, I noticed Mel's temples and forehead looked kind of red. She said she was getting itchy. Turns out she was slightly allergic to the antibiotic! A dose of benadryl later, and she was relaxed and happy. They proceeded to inject some type of nuclear radioactive goop into the area of her suspect (slightly enlarged) lymph node so the doc would know what to look for during surgery. I was in the waiting room down the hall, watching some ridiculous "Athletes and Their Dogs" show. Good thing I had my book.
Once again, we found ourselves winding through the endless maze of hallways in the bowels of the hospital. After what seemed like thirty minutes, but was probably two, we emerged into the surgery staging area. Mel was transferred to a bed, and Dr. Shulman showed up. She marked where Dr. Poulin was supposed to cut, using what she called "artsy" lines. I guess that's as opposed to "engineery" lines. (Hers had shading.) A little bit later, Dr. Poulin came in to talk to us. He went over the procedure again and checked the lines Dr. Shulman had drawn. After he left, Mel was relaxed and catching some rest while I wrestled with the stupid dividing curtain. Every time someone opened the door, the curtain was all up in my business. I don't have a problem with intimacy, I just don't like unsolicited caressing. Especially by a curtain.
2:30p - The anesthesiologist and nurse came shortly after the doc left. They confirmed that Mel was who she said she was and proceeded to excuse me from the area. Before being banished, I gave Mel a quick squeeze and kiss and was promptly ushered out.
2:45p - Right now, I'm sitting in the surgery waiting room. It is much more comfortable than I expected. I grabbed a quick sandwich and I'm using one of their three internet stations.
_______________________________________
4:00p - Dr. Poulin just stopped in to tell me that the surgery went perfectly. Everything looks great and the lymph node is clear of any cancer! That was quick, about an hour. Dr. Shulman is now working her magic and should be done in a couple of hours.
_______________________________________
Ok. THAT was a surprise! I'm sitting here, typing, minding my own business, when a couple shows up acting like they know me. Actually, they do! Mark and Kem somehow took the time out of their crazy schedules to show up and keep me company while I waited for Mel to get out of surgery. Thanks guys for stopping by! The time goes a lot faster in good company.
While Mark and Kem were here, Dr. Shulman came in (6:15p) to tell us that surgery was done and Mel is in recovery. She said the surgery went great, and took some time explaining everything she did. If the pain is under control, Mel should be ready to go home tomorrow evening. They may keep her another night if necessary. I'm anxious to see her, but they said it will be about an hour and a half. (If you want technical information about everything done, you'll have to talk to Mel later on. That information waved bye-bye to me about 30 seconds after it left the doc's mouth.)
I am overwhelmed at the outpouring of love we've received from everyone. I've gotten about 15 calls today alone. You are amazing, and I can't tell you how much it means to me. Yes, this is a sucky situation. But it's been the best case scenario of a sucky situation. We're blessed that it was discovered so early, and fortunate that it never reached the stage where it was life-threatening.
I am hopeful, grateful and relieved.
_______________________
Today dawned cool and beautiful. The sky was clear and the humidity had all but disappeared - at least temporarily. There was no obvious sign that today was going to be life changing, momentous and tragic. It makes you wonder what kind of crap people deal with on a daily basis and no one knows about it. All the people we pass who are dealing with their own set of challenges, and there isn't even a storm or tornado to acknowledge it.
I was thinking about that on my way to pick Mel up from work this morning. She crammed in three patients on her way in to surgery. She's amazing. If it had been me, I would have milked the whole week getting "ready" for surgery, taking off as much time as possible. Not her. She's way more responsible than me. Anyway, it's been a blur of activity getting prepared for Mel to be off for a few weeks. The preparation has paid off, and this morning on our way to the hospital we were content in knowing things are in order.
We arrived at Memorial Hospital around 11:45 this morning. We checked in and were directed to floor 7. Mel got to be weighed and have her temp and B/P taken (LUCKY!), then we were discarded in room 4. It's too bad there is so much sitting around time. The longer you sit, the more time you have to dwell on the impending doom. And I forgot the gin cards. Shame on me. Mel was presented with some suggestive and well-cut-for-someone-else hospital gowns as well as a pair of booties and some knee-high stockings. I must confess, the knee-highs looked pretty hot. I may have to invest in a pair of those for her. Wait. Is that too personal?
The IV specialist came in, and after examining the lines on the back of Mel's right hand and checking the alignment of the stars, Mel was hooked up to an IV for antibiotics. The wheelchair arrived soon after and we were escorted through the hospital's labyrinth to the ultrasound area. As we were waiting at the next stop, I noticed Mel's temples and forehead looked kind of red. She said she was getting itchy. Turns out she was slightly allergic to the antibiotic! A dose of benadryl later, and she was relaxed and happy. They proceeded to inject some type of nuclear radioactive goop into the area of her suspect (slightly enlarged) lymph node so the doc would know what to look for during surgery. I was in the waiting room down the hall, watching some ridiculous "Athletes and Their Dogs" show. Good thing I had my book.
Once again, we found ourselves winding through the endless maze of hallways in the bowels of the hospital. After what seemed like thirty minutes, but was probably two, we emerged into the surgery staging area. Mel was transferred to a bed, and Dr. Shulman showed up. She marked where Dr. Poulin was supposed to cut, using what she called "artsy" lines. I guess that's as opposed to "engineery" lines. (Hers had shading.) A little bit later, Dr. Poulin came in to talk to us. He went over the procedure again and checked the lines Dr. Shulman had drawn. After he left, Mel was relaxed and catching some rest while I wrestled with the stupid dividing curtain. Every time someone opened the door, the curtain was all up in my business. I don't have a problem with intimacy, I just don't like unsolicited caressing. Especially by a curtain.
2:30p - The anesthesiologist and nurse came shortly after the doc left. They confirmed that Mel was who she said she was and proceeded to excuse me from the area. Before being banished, I gave Mel a quick squeeze and kiss and was promptly ushered out.
2:45p - Right now, I'm sitting in the surgery waiting room. It is much more comfortable than I expected. I grabbed a quick sandwich and I'm using one of their three internet stations.
_______________________________________
4:00p - Dr. Poulin just stopped in to tell me that the surgery went perfectly. Everything looks great and the lymph node is clear of any cancer! That was quick, about an hour. Dr. Shulman is now working her magic and should be done in a couple of hours.
_______________________________________
Ok. THAT was a surprise! I'm sitting here, typing, minding my own business, when a couple shows up acting like they know me. Actually, they do! Mark and Kem somehow took the time out of their crazy schedules to show up and keep me company while I waited for Mel to get out of surgery. Thanks guys for stopping by! The time goes a lot faster in good company.
While Mark and Kem were here, Dr. Shulman came in (6:15p) to tell us that surgery was done and Mel is in recovery. She said the surgery went great, and took some time explaining everything she did. If the pain is under control, Mel should be ready to go home tomorrow evening. They may keep her another night if necessary. I'm anxious to see her, but they said it will be about an hour and a half. (If you want technical information about everything done, you'll have to talk to Mel later on. That information waved bye-bye to me about 30 seconds after it left the doc's mouth.)
I am overwhelmed at the outpouring of love we've received from everyone. I've gotten about 15 calls today alone. You are amazing, and I can't tell you how much it means to me. Yes, this is a sucky situation. But it's been the best case scenario of a sucky situation. We're blessed that it was discovered so early, and fortunate that it never reached the stage where it was life-threatening.
I am hopeful, grateful and relieved.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Love/Help
Many of you have asked for suggestions for help we may need as a family after my impending surgery. In fact, we have already gotten several thoughtful cards and emails and tons of prayers. My work colleagues at Memorial Home Care put together a fantastic care package including activity sets for the kids and an ergonomically correct “bed desk” with books and magazines and sweets for me. Yes, I’m hogging the chocolate. And several friends have already juggled kid care during medical appointments and so I could get some housework done. My book club women are coordinating some family meals – super easy heat-and-eat. (Scott’s great at a lot of things, but still calls me to figure out how to boil water.)
All the out-pouring of help reminds me of the lessons of the 5 love languages. For those of you who don’t know, that’s the theory that there are 5 essential ways that people express (and in return feel) love. They are (1) Physical touch, (2) Words of affirmation, (3) Quality time, (4) Gifts (receiving), and (5) Acts of service. Everyone has a primary love language. Learning this revolutionized my marriage – but we still have trouble speaking each other’s language sometimes. Scott speaks – literally – words of affirmation. Which is pretty much like Greek or Egyptian to me. (You want me to say what? About that? Every day?! Ummmm… ok.) I relate better to acts of service – so anything someone else offers to do (so I don’t have to) is especially thoughtful and well received. (This is where doing dishes can become foreplay.)
Thus we get stuck in the “help” suggestion department. I want to take offers of any help, like meals and household chores, because that makes me feel really valued and loved. Scott feels this is silly and will make people think he can’t handle stuff on his own. Of course he can get groceries and water the plants and vacuum, dress, feed, bathe and drop off/pick up the three kids, bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan… But I don’t think he has to do it all for me to know he loves me and is in control.
So… I guess any ideas you all have will be great, and we’ll have to tell Scott a lot how awesome his is and what a great job he’s doing holding down the fort. Any comments on his blog are good too. He especially likes to know who has read it and what you think. I expect he'll post more interesting stuff soon. I hear they have free wifi at Memorial Hospital.
Thanks for all your help! One day till surgery….
All the out-pouring of help reminds me of the lessons of the 5 love languages. For those of you who don’t know, that’s the theory that there are 5 essential ways that people express (and in return feel) love. They are (1) Physical touch, (2) Words of affirmation, (3) Quality time, (4) Gifts (receiving), and (5) Acts of service. Everyone has a primary love language. Learning this revolutionized my marriage – but we still have trouble speaking each other’s language sometimes. Scott speaks – literally – words of affirmation. Which is pretty much like Greek or Egyptian to me. (You want me to say what? About that? Every day?! Ummmm… ok.) I relate better to acts of service – so anything someone else offers to do (so I don’t have to) is especially thoughtful and well received. (This is where doing dishes can become foreplay.)
Thus we get stuck in the “help” suggestion department. I want to take offers of any help, like meals and household chores, because that makes me feel really valued and loved. Scott feels this is silly and will make people think he can’t handle stuff on his own. Of course he can get groceries and water the plants and vacuum, dress, feed, bathe and drop off/pick up the three kids, bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan… But I don’t think he has to do it all for me to know he loves me and is in control.
So… I guess any ideas you all have will be great, and we’ll have to tell Scott a lot how awesome his is and what a great job he’s doing holding down the fort. Any comments on his blog are good too. He especially likes to know who has read it and what you think. I expect he'll post more interesting stuff soon. I hear they have free wifi at Memorial Hospital.
Thanks for all your help! One day till surgery….
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
September 4, 2007 - I'm Curious
Today was "Meet the Plastic Surgeon Day". During the weeks leading up to this appointment, I hadn't given it much thought. Just figured it would be a nice, informative meeting with the doc. What I wasn't prepared for was The Waiting Room. I'm reminded of the cafeteria in high school. Every eye upon you. "Please, Lord, don't let me trip and spray Wham Surprise* and Stripples** all over the Goddess in front of me."
Mel's appointment was at "1:50p". I say that with quotes, because I'm not sure why they even give you a time. You're going to spend the day there anyway, they should just tell you to come in the morning and they'll fit you in eventually. Pack a lunch! Bring the fam! Let's make a day of it! Sorry, I digress.
I entered The Waiting Room at approximately one thirty and change. Sure, every eye was on me, but I'm used to that. I sauntered over to the magazine rack, deftly thumbed through the Better Homes & Gardens and People, and settled on a more masculine Travel magazine. I chose a seat with some breathing room and proceeded to wait for Mel and try to read. I didn't realize how hard that would be.
Turns out, I'm curious. Why are these people here? The guy with the nose was a no-brainer, but there was also a man there with his teenage son. Across from me was a grandmother, mother and pre-teen son playing Nintendo. Next to them was a mother with her daughter, about my age (21 for future reference). We were all sitting there in The Waiting Room like a bowl of mixed nuts. Each one with their own shape and flavor. Whenever a new specimen arrived, we'd all gawk and wonder what they were in for.
Mel entered The Waiting Room around 1:40p and walked the gauntlet. She's so confident and focused, I don't think it even fazed her. On top of that, she had paperwork to do and probably didn't notice my inappropriate musings. At 2:15p we were finally ushered into the exam room. At 2:32 I made the idiotic comment, "Hey, if they wait 18 more minutes, it will have been an hour!" They waited 18 more minutes.
Dr. Shulman came in and gave a play by play of what to expect before, during and after surgery. I'm not terribly excited about the whole thing, and neither is Mel. Obviously it's necessary, important and life-saving. At the same time it's inconvenient, sucky and nerve-wracking. As the day of surgery gets closer, I can tell Mel is more and more anxious. I can't imagine the anticipation of something so invasive to look forward to. She's strong, and I know everything will turn out for the best, but I ache for her. I wish I could do it for her. But the doctor assures me that's impossible.
So, with one week to go, Melisa is working more than ever in preparation for the time off she needs to take. All three kids are starting school this week. My business is officially moved and opens tomorrow. And everything seems to be falling into place. God has a plan. I'm still trying to figure out what it is. But we're here for the ride and we'll see where it takes us. As we take the time to be still, and listen, we'll figure where that is and be better off for it.
______________________________________________________
* Think beef gravy on toast, but weirder and yummier somehow.
** Fake bacon made out of ??
Mel's appointment was at "1:50p". I say that with quotes, because I'm not sure why they even give you a time. You're going to spend the day there anyway, they should just tell you to come in the morning and they'll fit you in eventually. Pack a lunch! Bring the fam! Let's make a day of it! Sorry, I digress.
I entered The Waiting Room at approximately one thirty and change. Sure, every eye was on me, but I'm used to that. I sauntered over to the magazine rack, deftly thumbed through the Better Homes & Gardens and People, and settled on a more masculine Travel magazine. I chose a seat with some breathing room and proceeded to wait for Mel and try to read. I didn't realize how hard that would be.
Turns out, I'm curious. Why are these people here? The guy with the nose was a no-brainer, but there was also a man there with his teenage son. Across from me was a grandmother, mother and pre-teen son playing Nintendo. Next to them was a mother with her daughter, about my age (21 for future reference). We were all sitting there in The Waiting Room like a bowl of mixed nuts. Each one with their own shape and flavor. Whenever a new specimen arrived, we'd all gawk and wonder what they were in for.
Mel entered The Waiting Room around 1:40p and walked the gauntlet. She's so confident and focused, I don't think it even fazed her. On top of that, she had paperwork to do and probably didn't notice my inappropriate musings. At 2:15p we were finally ushered into the exam room. At 2:32 I made the idiotic comment, "Hey, if they wait 18 more minutes, it will have been an hour!" They waited 18 more minutes.
Dr. Shulman came in and gave a play by play of what to expect before, during and after surgery. I'm not terribly excited about the whole thing, and neither is Mel. Obviously it's necessary, important and life-saving. At the same time it's inconvenient, sucky and nerve-wracking. As the day of surgery gets closer, I can tell Mel is more and more anxious. I can't imagine the anticipation of something so invasive to look forward to. She's strong, and I know everything will turn out for the best, but I ache for her. I wish I could do it for her. But the doctor assures me that's impossible.
So, with one week to go, Melisa is working more than ever in preparation for the time off she needs to take. All three kids are starting school this week. My business is officially moved and opens tomorrow. And everything seems to be falling into place. God has a plan. I'm still trying to figure out what it is. But we're here for the ride and we'll see where it takes us. As we take the time to be still, and listen, we'll figure where that is and be better off for it.
______________________________________________________
* Think beef gravy on toast, but weirder and yummier somehow.
** Fake bacon made out of ??
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