Manly status: Manly

As I sit here unshowered, with manicured fingers, eating my prosciutto and cheese, drinking my white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, I want to share with you how manly I am, how hard I am.  I’m a tough guy.

Just kidding, I nearly fainted writing this!

YESTERDAY I took my last shower for a week.  I will ask Mel for help with like a military shower or something, if you veterans have suggestions on best practices.  Why? Well I don’t want to smell like Miram Shah when I go to mass or walk around the house!  Oh, why the last shower?  Oh!  I get it.  Well, if you must know, I finally got my feeding tube installed and they won’t let me shower for a week.

Lean back in your recliners, Reader-land, and I’ll share the story.

It really began the night before, when I was lamenting my lack of mobility and ability to eat at the table with everyone.  See, part of the problem is I can’t lift my arms very well, so there are certain places where it is easier for me to eat, my office, my lazyboy, etc.  But that means family dinner is ruined, and I am breaking up the family with my disease.  This, and other thoughts occupied my time as I ate a light dinner, because I wasn’t really hungry.

The next morning, I was busy passing Mel my passwords and stuff for my electronics and stuff, because I had no idea if I was going to wake up from the eight minute procedure.  Yes, death is very much on my mind. Fr Lee was able to come over and anoint me, so I was prepared, but I didn’t want Mel to have to deal with my computer without help.  Now she has everything!  Of course, that stressed Mel out more…  I’m terrible at this husband thing.

Joey drove and Jess watched the kids.

We had to get there, Baltimore, by 1230.  For a two pm appointment.   First off, thank you so much to everyone who has been helping us out.  It is difficult to ask for help, or accept it, and there is a small bit of swallowing pride to be dependent on other people.  That is one lesson I’m being forced, kicking and screaming, to learn.

Second, let’s dip into some feeding tube irony, shall we?  Because it has to do with sedation, one can’t eat frommidnight on.  So now I’m on over twenty hours not eating, if I ate at five the night before?  Math isn’t my strong suit.  Add in that I couldn’t have coffee… I was grumpy!  My body and head hurt, I was trying to offer it up, but I’m more a whiner than a saint.  Seriously, do these things in the morning, save a few more marriages!  Prevent a few wars!  Let people have caffeine!  oh, and when they try to get an IV?  But they can’t find a vein because you’re dehydrated?  Irony.  To their credit, they only stuck me one time.

In the waiting room we made many Tombstone references and Mel and Joey joked about.

I was a grouch and laughed softly to myself. Yeah, I’m not proud of my attitude.  There were some gems in the waiting room, though.

 

When I finally got back, I got undressed and on the stretcher that I have to say is more comfortable than the one in UMASS, and chatted with Dr Cromwell, and the anesthesiologist.  We tried to warn them about my wimpiness, and vasovagal reactions, but I think they didn’t take me seriously.  That is called foreshadowing.

We got back to the OR, and they gave me some pain meds, and then wanted to put in a bite block.  This is a thing they put in your front teeth to keep your mouth open.  The only problem with that is, if I’m on my back with my mouth open, I can’t hold my tongue in place, and I can’t breathe.  It’s like a door closing.  And they were trying to force it on me, and I couldn’t breathe, and they couldn’t understand me!  Massive panic attack!  Eventually I got them to raise me up to a height I was comfortable with, and I began to calm down.  Then I got all sentimental and told them all that I trusted them, and then they put me to sleep.

When I woke up, literally about eight minutes later, I had a metric level of crap in my lungs. I aspirated something, I know that!   What happened next was the most pathetic series of weak coughs and pain… And I still didn’t know where they had insert the tube.  But the level of pain was more because of the coughing than knowing what was going on.

The evening wore on.  They wheeled me back to the recovery area, and Dr Cromwell said family could come back right away.  They came back, checked up on me, the doctor came in to tell us what was going on… And the tunnel happened.

This time I knew it, and I told them loudly I didn’t feel good, and Mel knew what was happening.  Apparently, I was having an episode. It took a little while, I don’t know why, but I remember being really clammy and very nauseous.  And Mel was there making sure I didn’t fall asleep, but all I wanted to do was fall asleep!

I'm right as the mail.

The real gems here will have to be shared by Joey and Mel, because I was out of it!!

Anyway, after they got my blood pressure back up, they kept me for observation and threatened to admit me overnight. According to the doctor, it was suboptimal.  But I perked up,

and we were able to leave for home around six.  But I was in a state, and we had to stop for food and coffee.  But you know, I was only able to eat one bite and drink half the coffee. Then I fell asleep.  I woke up a few miles from home.

Joey, yet again, was my strong right arm, helping me into the house, up the stairs, into and back out of bed because I was in pain!  Once upon a time, someone told me about getting stabbed, and it hurts!  Part of it is the stomach muscles, part of it is gas, but it hurts.  That is when I had said, again, that I didn’t feel good!  And nearly passed out at home.  But I didn’t, and after I stabilized, I took two painkillers and went to sleep.

I’m honestly in pain today.  Not as much as yesterday, but it hurts a bit.  And I have this weird tube sticking out of my belly now, and it is weird. No, I mean it, I am weirded out by it.

Maybe if there is overwhelming demand, I will post a picture.  But I can’t look.  I’m a wimp, you see.