The C Word – A New Battle Day 9 - Spoken too soon

Have you ever experienced times in your life when you “spoke too soon”.  You may have already arrived at a conclusion and were moving forward with the current progression of things – only to have everything come crashing down after the fact.

I think we have all had these.  I certainly have had my share. 

Perhaps the most significant one that I can recall was back in early 2000.  In the year leading up to that moment, my life seemed to be headed in a good direction.  Mike and I celebrated 20 years of marriage.  Sara was enrolled in a really good school down in Irvine.  Becke was doing pretty well in high school.  We had just opened our home not only to a foster daughter, Rachel, but also to Tabitha, her newborn baby that she had delivered in November 1999.  Mike and I were attending a foster parenting class together.  Most significant to me was that Mike had become so comfortable going to church that he had even started going to a bible study on his own without me having to go with him.  I remember thinking how well that was all going.  I also remember driving around one day, I don’t remember if I was alone in the car or if someone was with me and we were having a conversation.  But I remember saying or thinking, “I am so glad I am not single – because I wouldn’t have the slightest idea of how to go about dating since the world has changed so much in the past few decades.”

And then….. my world came crashing down around me just months later. 

That’s probably an over-the-top example of how we go through life in a sort of blissful naivety, never ever thinking anything bad will happen to us.

Most of the times the types of occurrences I am thinking about are a lot less significant than that, but it gives you an idea of what I am speaking about.

We’ve had a few of those “hiccups” in the past 10 days.  First was the surgery which, for all intents and purposes, was going to be exactly like the previous one.  Go in, cut out the bad stuff, do the HIPEC, clean up, go home and heal.  Only it didn’t happen that way.  We spoke too soon.

On Tuesday, George had been just upgraded to real food.  He was feeling pretty good, all thing considered.  This is good.  We are on track to go home at the end of the week.  And then, BAM, a leak happens and we are now not only forced to take a step back, but go back even farther than the day after surgery.  No feeding tube, no food or ice chips by mouth, nothing.  Only nutrients by IV.  We spoke too soon.  That night was aflutter with activity, CT scans, bags of fluid and antibiotics, other stuff as well. 

All day Wednesday and into the night more fluids including plasma and whole blood were sent syphoning through his veins.  Both Wednesday and Thursday were spent with George sleeping most of the day.  Dropping in and out of consciousness, even in the middle of conversations.  We were concerned about his lethargic manner but a visit from the doctor assured us he was actually doing better than two days prior. As the day went on, the number of tubes was lessened.  His central line was removed as the lines were moved over to the PICC line in his left arm.  We were prepared for a relaxing night, just as the night before was.

At 3:15AM George woke me and said he thought something was leaking.  I thought he meant his wound so I went over to check the bandage.  What I saw was a lot of green goo and I thought to myself, this is not what was coming out before!  George then asked me to check the G-drain.  I did – and found that the drain tube was not attached to the valve.  Therefore, for hours his stomach bile had been dripping onto the lower end of his wound covering, dripping down the creases in his legs and all his private areas.  Gross is an understatement.  Fortunately between sheets and towels in place, a lot of fluid had been captured and soaked in by those things.  We rang for a nurse and I proceeded to start doing an initial clean up.  The nurse came in, took off the old wound covering, sterilized the area and positioned clean covering on it.  Then George got up to use the toilet and I helped get the rest of him cleaned up as best I could. By the time we got to bed it was about 45 minutes later.  I was still wide awake so took the few pictures I had taken and sent them off with a scathing letter to the nurse leader that we met earlier in the week.  I questioned how a nurse could have not gotten the seal tight on the tube to prevent this from happening.  I wrote about a few other things, then turned the computer off and went back to sleep.  Thinking we were going to have a relatively quiet night – we spoke to soon once again. 

Today another CT scan has been done because the doctor thinks there is still fluid building up due to the white cell count being on the rise.  Should they see a relatively good size pocket, he will be wheeled down to surgery for a quick procedure to put in a drain.  I am not clear if that will be sometime today or will wait until tomorrow.  I think if a drain were in place George would not fear moving around and getting out of bed.  He fears that standing, sitting or moving around will make the fluids flow out again.  Other than that, it has been a relatively quiet day thus far.

The quiet nights appear to alternate so perhaps tonight will be our lucky one!  Do I dare speak the words?!?!?!?  Or even THINK such a thing?!?!?  After all, we are in a hospital – and the one thing we have learned is that “anything goes”!