On To The First Surgery!

So here is my second post. I would like to say thanks for all the positive feedback I got! It really means a lot to me that you show an interest in the goings-on of my life. I learned a couple things after publishing my first post. First, writing a blog is HARD. I think I have taken for granted reading other people's blogs in the past, not realizing the time it takes and how you are really putting yourself out there for the world to see. Second, it feels quite narcissistic. It's this sense of "look at me, I have something super important to say because I am so fantastic!" Now, all of you know me and know that I am no wallflower, but this is a bit different. Takes some getting used to, that's for sure.

I've also fixed the comments section, so if you'd like to comment you don't have to be a member of anything. You can just say whatever you want. :)

And now, on to the details of my first surgery!

I had my first surgery in November of 2005. Here's a before picture of the tumor, it's really hard to see the size of it from the angle, but it sat on the front of my ribs and was about the size and shape of a lemon. It might look a little bit like I'm sucking in, which is what I usually do for photos, but in this case I'm not, that's all tumor, baby:

I was pretty stressed about the whole procedure, mainly because I stress out about everything. Again, you all know me and know how neurotic I am, so this should come as no surprise. But, it really wasn't until the day of the surgery that I had any sense of panic.

I had two doctors, doctor #4, who was Dr. Pezzi, the surgeon, and doctor #5, Dr. Buinewicz, a plastic surgeon. Dr. Pezzi would remove the tumor, and Dr. Buinewicz would replace my missing ribs with a tissue graft, sometimes called a mesh. The graft is made up of actual human tissue, but it is non-vascular which means there's no blood vessels or veins. The plastic surgeon was also in charge of sewing me back up, and doing the best job he could of making the scar not look too Frankenstein-y.

During the surgery I had two different tubes inserted, both under my armpit. I have Dr. B to thank for this one, no one sees them because of where the incisions were made.

First we've got the chest tube. This sucks fluid and air out of the pleural area, which is the cavity my lungs sit in, to keep my lung from collapsing during the procedure. I was also intubated, which means that after I was knocked out they stuck a tube down my throat and used a bag to manually blow air into my lungs.

Next I had a drainage tube, which would drain any fluids that built up as a result of the surgery. I just think of this as gross.

The surgery took around 3-4 hours, I think. I was off in a galaxy far, far away so who knows. All I know is that when I woke up the first thing Ryan said to me was "Andy Reid suspended T.O.". This may seem like an inappropriate time to discuss football. But, if you've ever been to Philly, you would know how die hard we are about the Eagles. We start Eagles chants at the Phillies game in the middle of July, after they WON A WORLD SERIES. And we Philadelphians wonder why other fans think we are cruel and insane.

While we were talking and I was slowly coming back to planet Earth, Ryan kept sticking a dry sponge on a stick in my mouth (it was all I was allowed to have), which he claimed had water on it, and I was as thirsty as if I'd been lost in a desert for days. It was pretty much bone dry. Next time you see him, ask him to do an impersonation of me yelling at him for giving me no water. It's pretty funny.

The doctors ended up taking out my bottom 4 ribs, part of my diaphragm, and about a quarter of my muscle and tissue in that area. The timing of my surgery was good, because the tumor had start to get close to the pleura of my lungs and that would be Bad News Bears.

I spent the next few days in the hospital. They put a catheter in almost immediately, because shockingly enough I couldn't pee in a pan with an audience. That was cute. They also had me hooked up to this awful machine called a mechanical leg pump, honestly they must have this in hell or Abu Ghraib. It was a device that was wrapped all the way around my legs, up to the knees, and it would randomly inflate to tighten around my legs, then loosen. My legs were all sweaty in there, and I hadn't shaved my legs in days (obvi)--it was just awful. More awful than an IV stuck in your arm for a week straight.

I also had to do these breathing exercises once a day, where you blow into the little plastic mouthpiece and see how high you can make the little ball go up. Sounds easy, right? Not when you've lost four ribs! My mother (whom we have lovingly nicknamed Stone Cold Pam) would stand there and shout "Come on Sue! This is important! You don't want to get pneumonia do you? Breather harder!" Also, this would be an excellent torture device.

I got a lot of presents and flowers while I was in the hospital and when I got home, and it was such a thoughtful and wonderful thing to know that you are so loved. So a shout-out to all my homies that sent me their love and well wishes.

So then I got sent home. With the drainage bag still in me because I was producin g too much fluid. I could get it out on Monday (I went home on a Saturday) but the lady who removes drainage bags was out that day and apparently no one else can just rip the thing out of you, so I had to wait an extra day. It was a charming accessory that went perfectly with my purse anad jewelry.

Here are some after pictures, probably about a week and a half after the surgery:

The one on the left is especially my favorite because you can still see that drainage tube all the way in the left hand corner, taped to my body. At this point I'm still pretty swollen in that area because the mesh takes a while to heal. I also was numb in that whole area--it was like having a dead leg on my rib area, and it lasted for about six months.

The first few days at home just flat out sucked. No position was comfortable to sit or sleep in, and I was in a tremendous amount of pain. I think this picture Ryan took of me pretty much sums it all up.

While we're on the subject of Ryan taking pictures, he did something very cruel to me while I slept. Unfortunately, he is a Redskins fan (I know, I know--why did I marry him? I get past it through our mutual disdain of the Cowboys). So one day while I slept he did this:

This is very cruel and mean to do to a sick person who is missing some body parts. Luckily for me, however, there is another blanket between me and the Redskins one, so it's not actually touching my skin.

Most of my recovery was sleeping, going to doctor's appointments, watching really bad daytime TV (no soaps of course) and taking pain pills. It wasn't pretty. I was out of work for about 7 weeks. It was really hard for me to not know what was going on, and I didn't have remote access to my work e-mail. It wasn't that I necessarily wanted to go back to work, I just wanted the juicy gossip.

Throughout this physically and emotionally trying time, I had my family and friends to count on. Many visits, phone calls, and emails, and I appreciated every one of them. At the time, Ryan lived about an hour and a half away from me, but he faithfully came down every weekend to sit in my house with me and do nothing. My other constant companion was our family dog Maggie (RIP Maggie I heart you). She was a great cuddler and a phenomenal sleeper, so we worked well together. Here's a picture of the two of those cuties together:

That's plenty of reading for now. I will end this post with a picture of giraffes. Many believe that these animals are my true ancestors, due to our incredibly long necks. I was lucky enough to have a visit with some of them recently, and here's a photo:

xoxoxoxo,

Sue