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 Fair Warning: Anyone grossed out by medical details or
simply uninterested in the personal life of your correspondent can safely
skip the rest of this entry. However, since we are still to a certain
extent a Mom and Pop operation (Hi Mom! Hi Pop!) and a lot of our readers
know us personally, we feel a certain obligation to blog about our recent
medical emergency.
When we went into surgery two weeks ago today, we were
certainly not expecting
to
come
out gutted
like
a
bottom
feeder
and studded
with more metal than the population of The Pit in Harvard Square.
We needed this urgent surgery because of wandering stomach
syndrome. Our stomach had somehow come unanchored and migrated through
the esophageal
opening in our diaphragm. Most of it was now in our chest, shoving aside
the previous occupants like our heart and lungs. This was extremely puzzling
to our doctor, who said he typically sees this condition in elderly,
obese women.
The operation supposedly consisted of 1) grabbing the
stomach and pulling it back through the hole into the abdomen where it
belongs 2) wrapping
an anchoring it among the intestines and such so that it doesn’t start
wandering again, and 3) sewing up the hole in the diaphragm it went through.
According to the Chief of Surgery, who does this kind
of thing for a living, they hoped to be able to do the entire operation
laproscopically,
through three or four small holes, using miniature cameras, robot arms
and other tiny tools. If so, they said we could go home in a couple of
days, and be back at work in a week.
However, if the hole in our diaphragm was too big or
hard to get at, sewing it up would not be simple, and the surgeon said
he would probably have to sew a patch in
to seal it up tight. This would involve a slightly larger incision in
the chest, three or four days in the hospital, and two weeks of rest
before returning to work.
Once they got me on the table, however, all of these
estimates went the way of the Big Dig. Turns out that during the month
we were waiting
for the operation our stomach had gone COMPLETELY through the hole, and
was folded over and twisted around to boot. Putting it back was considerably
more complicated than anticipated. Pretty much everything had to be moved
around somehow.
Then there was some problem putting in the patch. We
are not sure exactly what went wrong (they never tell the patient the
details, apparently),
but several other surgeons, not part of our "team" have told us they
were in and out of the operating room several times because the case
presented "unusual complications."
In all, the operation lasted 5 hours, and we will end
up with a scar down the middle of our belly bearing an eerie resemblance
to a C-section. We ended up with 30 stainless
steel staples holding our gut together.
After the 5 hours of the actual operation, we were told
it took them an additional 3 hours to "get your pain under control".
We are not exactly
sure what this means, since mercifully we remember almost nothing, but
near as we can figure it means the first few times they tried to take
us out from under the anesthesia, we started kicking and screaming.
So
they
would
put
us back under, increase the underlying dosage of narcotics in our system,
and try to bring us out of it again.
Obviously, they had to repeat this routine several times
if it took them three hours to get us to the point where we could manage
consciousness.
Of course, the amount of narcotics any individual needs to overcome a
given level of pain depends on multiple factors, including body mass,
general physical condition, past opiate usage, individual pain threshold
and reaction to different specific opioids. The Dowbrigade takes a load.
The first 48 hours were extremely difficult. Just let us say that the
pain management function in the step-down ward (one step down from Intensive
Care) on the weekends is less than fully effective.
Because of the length and invasive nature of the operation,
our return to the classroom is now predicted to be not one week, not
two weeks,
but SIX WEEKS. Meanwhile, we have to take it easy, no heavy lifting,
light exercise and bland diet. They won’t even guarantee we’ll be able
to go to Florida in three weeks, where we are supposed to deliver a 56
minute paper and then spend four days in the sun. Maybe, the doctor said,
but don’t buy a non-refundable ticket. The reason we were asking is that
we were just about to buy a non-refundable ticket. It’s the only kind
we can afford.
Anyway, two weeks out, we are feeling a lot better,
although we still tire easily, and have daily (although not constant)
pain the in belly. We got our surgical staples out
Wednesday, and that helped a lot in making us feel comfortable. Yesterday,
for the first time since the operation, we finished the New York Times
crossword
with no help. And we can still blog….
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