In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

jescordwaineratgmail.com

Saturday, December 11, 2021

More Surgery

 Wednesday, I had a tumor removed from above my right eye. It's more than likely a lipoma, but was sent in for testing to verify the diagnosis. It was an interesting experience, and not what I envisioned. 

I guess I've watched too many television programs where the doctor removes a lipoma with the patient sitting up, smiling, having a conversation with the doctor, and family members in the room watching. That's how I thought it would be, since the surgeon told me he would sedate me, but not put me out. He, also, told me it was a short, simple procedure. 

I arrived early to complete some papers, and then waited for over thirty minutes for them to call me to the back. When there, I was told to remove my clothes and put on a gown. That surprised me, but I determined it was a guarantee no blood would be on my clothes. The soon put in an IV, after checking my vitals. My wife was allowed to be in the room, so she took my the contents of my pockets, and my clothes were put in a plastic bag. 

They came for me, grabbed my clothes, and left my wife in the examination room. Soon in the operating room, they told me they were injecting the anesthetic, and I felt  a burning sensation in my arm. I notified the nurses, who explained it was normal, and I had no need to worry. I was out in seconds. 

I awoke sitting in a wheelchair facing the discharge door. How I got dressed is beyond me, but I was dressed, and waiting for my wife to pull under the awning. I don't remember being loaded in the car, any conversation, or the trip home, except for eating a sausage and biscuit sandwich during the drive. 

At home, I have a foggy memory of making a cup of coffee, using an ice pack, and being very tired. I don't remember climbing in bed, but do remember dreaming of being with my wife at a strange house, with a big friendly dog that was jumping up and playing. I was concerned the dog would jump, hit my head, and accentuate the terrible headache I had. Awakening, I realized the headache was not a dream. If I had to describe it, I would describe the pain after being struck in the head with a claw hammer. I took a tramadol, went to the kitchen, and started making some coffee. 

My sister-in-law knocked on the door. She was upset because someone hacked phone number, social media account, and email. I had a short conversation with her, but the pain wasn't lessening, and I had to break off the conversation to go take another tramadol. I took another one, laid down in the bed, and was finally rewarded with enough relief to fall asleep. 

I woke during the early morning hours with a headache. Looking in the mirror revealed the start of what can only be described as a shiner. I took my antibiotic,  pain medication, and started my day of resting. I'd sleep, on and off, and used an ice pack between naps. The day was somewhat of a blur, but the naps helped. 

I woke during the night. The swelling was worse, with my eye half-closed. After some coffee, and television, I finally was sleepy again, so I went back to sleep. 

Yesterday morning, the swelling was still there. Since it was time, my wife removed the bandage to reveal the incision. It's about two inches long, and in a crease in my forehead. Scarring will be minimal, and the stitches will dissolve over time.

This morning, the swelling is still there. I'm guessing sleeping has something to do with that. I have no pain, so that's a good thing.

Next week, I do bloodwork for my surgery to remove a ganglion cyst that is growing. Pain is intermittent, but will only disappear by surgery, with removal and suturing the root of the cyst. The surgery takes place Monday week, and will result in a wrist brace for a month. Hopefully, this will end surgeries forever. 

11 comments:

  1. Dang man!
    Glad to hear you are getting fixed up but that "little" surgery sounds like they really went to town!

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    1. I'm thinking they got a little too heavy with the demerol during the procedure. I had Moh's surgery on the top of my head, where they removed an area larger than a quarter, and talked to the surgeon the entire time.

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  2. Wow! sorry to hear of your continuing troubles.
    Here's wishing you a speedy recovery, and a prayer for what may come.

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    1. Thanks. This surgery sort of through me for a loop, I wasn't expecting the surgery, or the frame.

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  3. Well it sounds to me like ya handled it like a champ, Jess. If I was as tough as you, I'd put it behind me and worry more about the impending Christmas hang-overs!

    I hope I can show the same courage you did if I have to face the hospitals. You are truly an inspiration to the regiment! :)

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    1. From talking to the doctor, the lipoma was the result of an injury in the past. I think he's right, since it was where my hard hat band rested on my forehead. Many times I would bump it against something, and cause a small bruise.

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  4. Here's hoping everything heals right the way it should.

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    1. From reading, the swelling can last, since it's on my forehead. The final result will be the end of the strange lump on my forehead.

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  5. Gravy sakes. I'll be praying for you neighbor. Hope everything turns out for the best.

    I had a Bible cyst on my knuckle, same thing happened to me. Take off yer duds and slip into this backless table cloth. I said, "doc, it's on my HAND." I didn't slip away with the date rape stuff, and my constant commentary on the really cool lights in the operating theater, the pain of the arm wrap and tourniquet resulted in a voice saying, "that's enough of that." And then I was waking up all groggy.


    I figure some of that stuff they give is to immobilize you. Keep you from moving around while they are doing their work. Sure does a number on me. It takes a bigger than normal dose to get me under, then, it's tough to wake up.

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    1. I think much of the things given to sedate are more potent with some than others. The next surgery will be complete sedation, with an anesthesiologist. My wife will insure my safe passage home, and there's no telling what I may say. The last one had me sipping soda, eating crackers, conversing with my wife, and remembering absolutely nothing.

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