Day 3, January 25, Post-op
I spent the night after the operation in ICU and was transferred to my room. Before that was done, Dr. Thomas came in to see how I was doing, and reassure me of the success of the operation and his conviction that there were no signs of cancer. That opinion would have to be confirmed by the biopsy, of course.
Up to this point I wasn’t able to speak, as I had tubes stuck up both nostrils. I hadn’t been given a tracheotomy like last time, for which I was grateful. This time they had put, as I was about to learn, a forked tube up one nostril, down past my larynx with one fork into each lung. That prevented my tongue from falling back and blocking the air passage during the operation. It also prevented air from going through the larynx; hence my inability to speak.
The other nostril had, and still does as of this writing, a tube into the stomach through which I am to be fed. That remains until the hole in my mouth completely heals and there is no danger of food getting caught, thereby causing infection.
You have no idea the capacity of your nose until you have a doctor pull something out of it that was inserted while you were under anesthesia! Many years ago I had an operation to correct a septum that had become “deviated” when, at the age of 17, I had leaped off the low board in a beautiful jackknife and plunged to the 12 foot depth of my hometown pool. Only, this was at night in an unfamiliar, poorly lit pool that, to the shock of my life, turned out to be only 8 feet deep!
Yet one of many times my sweet Lord protected me very serious injury or death, even long before I came to know Him. Another time that comes to mind was on a narrow, snowy road in Yugoslavia in January, 1969, while driving a ’52 VW bug with worn summer tires . . . But, I digress. . .
Dr. Thomas, feeling, no doubt, that I might like to be able to communicate with more than hand signals and grimaces, decided it was time to remove the tube into my lungs. He grabbed it with his right hand, put his left hand on my forehead, and began to pull. It felt like someone was pulling out the inside of my head through my nose! A horrible feeling. It seemed to be stuck, and he had to yard on it a few times, each time harder with more pressure on my sinuses, until it finally came free. It was wider than my thumb and thicker, too! Not a lot of fun.
Sandra continues
I spent the day with Bill. He’s back in his room again, and he can walk around, but has to be EXTREMELY careful now of infection. His mouth is much more fragile than the average person’s, due to all the radiation he’s had. There is great danger any food that goes in his mouth will catch in the hole that goes through to his cheek and cause infection, at least until that opening heals up. (This is why reconstruction later on is almost an impossibility — it wouldn’t hold.) He’s not to put ANYthing in his mouth but bottled water. The nurses feed him through a tube in his nose, which he hates, but it has to stay in for at least a week. They feed him a kind of rice gruel, which is at least a little more nutritious than sugar water. It’s hard for them to force it through the nose tube, though, because it’s thicker than water. He’s still taking lots of pills and injections, too — probably antibiotics. His throat is very rough and hoarse because it’s still scratched from a tube that was down his throat in ICU. They pulled it out this morning, and he said that hurt like the dickens. Now it just feels like a very bad sore throat, but it should heal soon. Other than that, no pain.
I got the same auto- rickshaw driver this morning that I had yesterday. Because this time I wasn’t asking him to wait, he wanted to charge me fare-and-a-half, because he said that the hospital is so far out of town, he can’t possibly get a fare back into town again, so he loses money when he doesn’t have a return fare. He does have a point — gas is unbelievably expensive here, and Barath is way out in the middle of nowhere. I managed to talk him down a little bit, but basically ended up paying almost fare-and-a-half. Coming home, I had a ride with Mala, bless her. She came out around 5:30 because she wanted to see Bill briefly (but I know she mainly did it as a favor to me). She knows about my rickshaw problems. She ended up having to stay for an hour, because just at that time, the doctor decided to talk to me.
Bill is terrorizing the nurses here — it began on the day he checked in, and continues. They want to keep him right under their noses, where they can keep a close eye on him, but he’ll have none of it. He’s not supposed to walk farther than the corridor in front of his room, but today when I arrived, there he was, outside in the driveway, looking as if he was on vacation with his jaunty straw hat and tan. He had just walked out. It’s pretty hard to get by the nursing station, which is right next to his room, but he constantly challenges them — when they tell him he can’t do something, he immediately counters with, “Why not?” Which throws them into utter confusion and consternation. Well, just as long as he doesn’t yank out the nose tube through which they’re feeding him rice congee…that’s what he did in Surrey Memorial, if you recall.
I’m sure it’s a good sign that he’s so energetic right after surgery, although he admits he feels a little weak, and his throat is hoarse and sore from the feeding tube. He’s healing well, so maybe the doc. will release him before the 10 days are up.
Dr. Thomas is very special — soft-spoken, gentle, patient, and highly regarded by all. I caught him praying in his office after a long day of work (he’s Roman Catholic).
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