The Details

The surgery was scheduled to start at 5, and we were asked to arrive at 2:45 for pre-op.  Ever the Eager Beavers, we got there at about 2:40, and the whisked Chris right up to pre-op from the front desk and got him all gowned up. 

The good news about his hospital johnny:  It was significantly larger than the one they gave him in the ER this weekend, thus providing significantly more coverage.

The bad news:  It looked alarmingly like a mumu.

"Lemme take your picture!" I said.

"Absolutely not!" said his mother.  And him.  Sheesh. 

We then proceeded to wait in our little holding area for over three hours.  Seems there was a backup.  "It's kinda like at the airport," the anesthesiologist said by way of explanation.  "When a flight from Buffalo gets delayed you feel it in Seattle."

Or, when a surgery in the OR gets squeezed in ahead of yours, you feel it in your ass from sitting in a chair for three hours straight.

The anesthesiologist gave Chris the option of an epidural for the procedure.  "It's about 50-50 as to whether you'd need this or not.  I don't have a strong recommendation one way or the other.  It's mostly about how you manage pain."

"Honey," I said.  "It's up to you, of course, but I'd suggest the epidural. That way you won't feel anything."

"No," he said.  "I'm not keen on having a tube inserted in my spine.  I've had back problems and headaches.  Let's keep this simple."

His mother nodded in vigorous agreement.  No need to go putting needles in spines.

Mark this moment.

They finally wheeled our boy off to surgery.  His mom and I kissed him goodbye with lots of loving smiles, turned the corner, broke down in tears (mostly me, his mom's more stoic), then headed off to the nearest bar for a round of stiff drinks and some appetizers. 

We felt much better.

Oh...right...we're talking about Chris here....

The surgeon came back out in just under three hours with these words:

"He's alive and well."

The procedure, he said, went off with no surprises.  "What I saw in the CT scan is what I saw inside."  That's a good thing, of course.  The incision is a midline one.  That means right down the middle.  "I had to make it a little bigger than I wanted to.  He's kind of a big guy, and we couldn't see everything with a smaller incision.  But that's really the only thing that went different than planned." 

It was only the two lymph nodes that looked worrisome on the  CT scan that looked worrisome in real life, but he took out a whole string of them along the area to have them checked.  "He probably lost about 325 ml of blood, but we didn't transfuse him." 

"Is that a lot?" I asked.

"500 ml is a unit," he said. 

"So you're not worried that was a lot?" I asked.  No, he said.  But there was a lot of blood in the kidney so taking it out just means that much less blood.  "We might still transfuse him, but no plans to right now."

He then explained that he was going out of town over the weekend.  He apologized, saying he never goes out of town during surgeries, but he had a family matter.  He will be in Oregon and will have his pager and phone with him.  The pathology report on the lymph nodes will likely come back on Monday.  "But I probably won't be able to tell you 'til Tuesday.  I'm really sorry."

At that point I was so tired and relieved that we were past the surgery that I didn't care.  I hugged the doctor, thanked him profusely, and he left.  I proceeded to start making phone calls (as many as I could at such a late hour), and tap out a blog entry via my iPhone.  (I love my iPhone but it's not my weapon of choice for blogging).  Margo (Chris' mom...the stoic) heaved two large, heavy sighs.  Groaned a bit, and promptly laid down for a nap. "Wake me when you're done with all that stuff and then we'll go wait for him in his room."

We went up to his room.  It's in a brand new wing of the hospital and it's a pretty nice private room.  Got a desk and a sofa...and a view of Whole Foods across the street.  :-)

When they finally wheeled him in, he looked .... pathetic.  Poor Chris.  He looked like he'd been hit by a truck.  Which, I'm pretty sure is the biological equivalent of what happened to him for real.

"In retrospect?" he croaked. "Epidural."

Comments

[Laurel]

Ahhh!! Man - you guys all must be zonked! Is he rehydrated today? How are the kids? Great to hear everything went as planned (although the scar will be bigger and cooler!). Now we just hope for a smooth surgery recovery and keep our fingers crossed that the lymph nodes are clear?

[Marsee]

Thanks for the updates Leslie. They are wonderful.
Tell Chris we`re all here for him.
Sending many healing thoughts, his way.