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!
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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.

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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.
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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.