“Norm!”
By now most of the staff, and even my own surgeon, know my name or say, “I’ve seen you before haven’t I?”
A couple weeks ago I returned to Fresno for my fifth dilation. While I wasn’t vomiting, I felt I was eating less and let’s face it, at this point I’m gonna be bangin on the surgeon’s door over every lil thing. Of course everyone recognizes me and I have the same nurse to insert my IV. This is a good thing because ever since surgery my veins are nearly impossible to find. Before surgery? They were always very welcoming and more than happy to greet an oncoming needle. Now? Shy lil wallflowers that scurry from their own shadow.
We were a lil early and passed the time by chattin with the nurses. We were relaying our previous encounters with surgeon’s staff and the nurses were more than happy to commiserate with us. It’s nice to know you’re not the only one with this problem. We concluded that basically a staff is buffer (or bouncer) trying to keep patients from bugging the doctor. That’s understandable but it would be nice if they could figure out the difference between the whiners and folks with real problems.
So off to the OR once again. Same ol’ ol’… Strap on the blood pressure gauge from hell, roll to side, put rubber do-hickey in mouth and long doo-dad shoved down throat. I did purty well, didn’t cough and gag as much. Afterwards Dr. Swartz said it was a mild stricture, but he went ahead and dilated it. I told him that after everything that’s happened I’m really at the point of paranoia. “Oh gosh, I don’t think I was able to eat as much… It must be a stricture!” He said that it was a good thing I came in and it never hurts to check. Other good news is that my ulcer was completely healed. We were all down with that.
Right after the procedure I was up and jabberin away, so much so that they didn’t even bother to take me to the recovery room. I don’t recall what drugs I was shot up with, but I remember the nurse behind me saying, “I gave her 10 mg and she’s already up and talkin!” So it looks like I’m developing a resistance to anesthesia. *sniff* Just like the druggies.
Dr. Swartz came out and talked with Mother for a good ten minutes. Lately we’d been having some concerns over how often can the stoma be stretched before the tissues start to weaken.
Side note:
A dear friend of Mother’s contracted Cancer. While the Cancer did go into remission, the radiation treatments left her esophagus very weakened and she would often seek treatments to stretch the esophagus. Eventually she was fitted with a stint to keep it open, unfortunately over time the stint wore holes in her esophagus and she died of infection.
Dr. Swartz said that wouldn’t happen and stated that if it strictured again he would insert a small metal tube for month to keep it open. So it was purty obvious he’d been thinking about this. It also turned out that only one other patient (out of 2000) had suffered numeral strictures. In fact, at this point we’re tied for first place.
Mother also asked if he would consider performing the adjustable lap band on her.
Side note:
She’d been going on like this over a month. Dr. Swartz only performs the Roux-en-Y, asking him to perform the lap band is like asking the garbage collector to setup your DSL -- it’s just not gonna happen. I told her this over and over again, but she was determined.
You can imagine my jaw dropping to the floor when Mother told me that he said he would consider it. Nuh uh. Despite his practice being solely RNY and the less than favorable outcome of the lap band her in the US, his only objection was her Lupus. Now Mother has the annoying type of Lupus, not the fatal type. So basically she’s just plagued with fussy skin and owwies up her nose, and it’s also a good idea not to let her get pneumonia. Dr. Swartz told her that there had been cases where the band had eaten through the tissues. He advised her to research it and gather all the information she could.
She also apologized for chewing out his whole staff the week prior and he told her it was ok, she had every right because it was her child.
After hearing all this, I was purty damned impressed.
Anyways just last Sunday I started throwing up again. I was really mystified as to how this could be happening so soon. Monday I threw up again. Tuesday I tried nibbling at a salad, but it was a lost cause -- just a week ago I had no trouble eating part of the same salad. So what gives? I called the surgeon’s office and they put me right through to doctor Dr. Swartz. He was just as dumbfounded as I was. He suggested that I try soft foods for the rest of the day and to call ‘em tomorrow.
So there I was, rolling around in bed, annoyed I couldn’t eat anything and my cellphone rang. I rarely answer my cell and this is why I receive so few calls. The caller ID was blocked so I decided to answer. Low and behold! It was the surgeon’s office.
Nuh uh!
No it’s true! I swear!
Alright, what were they calling about? A bill?
Nope nope nope! Get this: They were calling to check up on me and see how I was doing.
Well I could just shit
We’ve finally broken through!
I told her that food still wasn’t going down very well and even soup was fussy. I asked if they would give me one more day to make sure and I’m supposed to call ‘em tomorrow.
I’m so happy and take back all the bad things I said now that Dr. Swartz is really listening to us.
On another side, I’m really worried about Mom. A few weeks ago she took a very bad spill in her bedroom -- in trying not to disturb the cat she tripped and belly flopped on the floor. She hollered and Dad and I rushed outta our rooms to her. She had landed on her knee and banged her shoulder purty good. Now the hard part about this is that she has total knee replacements and consequently cannot put direct weight on them, ie get on her knees. So we have to figure a way to get her up without using her knees for support. It was difficult and she was in pain. When she was finally on her feet she was really upset, and I popped a Xanax in her. I was afraid the strain alone was gonna give her a heart attack. I told her, “No more falling”
Well about a week later she was in the computer room putting together some kind of file cabinet. There was a crash and I figured the assembly wasn’t going so well -- I opted not to go in and check because I didn’t want to help put the damn thing together. About fifteen minutes pass and on my way to get more water I decided to go in and check on her progress. I look in the room and no one’s there. She’s short but not that short. I asked, “Did you vanish?” She replied, “No I’m down here just trying to figure out how to get back up.” I asked what the hell she was doing on the floor, and she said that she had fallen. Shit! Why didn’t you say something? Now I feel bad about leaving you here all that time, and I almost didn’t come in now. How long were planning on waddling around the floor before telling me? She said that she wasn’t hurt this time. I got her up even though Dad wasn’t there to help me. It was easier this time but she was still coughin and weezin, I was scared to death she was gonna keel over -- and annoyed as hell that she didn’t call for me.
Ever since I’ve started having complications with this surgery, I forbid her to have the same. I couldn’t stand it if she had to endure what I have, or even worse. With the invasiveness of the surgery while adding to it her age and Lupus, I was scared to death or her having this surgery. I’m still scared! But I was also scared when she fell. So now what? Wait till she has a heart attack or let the doc cut her open?
We were really pushin for the lap band before Dr. Swartz told her about the whole “eating through the tissues” process. But I still want a consultation with a doctor up in Sacramento who does the lap banding, and find Lupus patients who’ve had the same surgery.
