We had a special step stool for an old cat so that he could still get on to our bed. The current kitties are young and spry.
She can still make it up the steps I made for the grooming table way back when we had Mort. But anything higher than a step, or with give like a mattress, she needs a boost up.
The day before the surgery and I'm getting a fucking cold!!! Now I gotta try to keep from giving to her while taking care of her. Come on, God, give us a break!! Zicam, Vitamin C, Dayquil....
2 Hour surgery, no problems, everything came out () okay. She's doped to the gills and enjoying being able to stop worrying and relax. (BOY is she relaxed!) I knew she was okay when they wheeled her to her room and she heard it was room 42. I heard her say groggily (The answer to the ultimate question!" Still unclear on what it was. It was apparently not an ovarian cyst, but a "mucusoidal tumor" attached to the appendix. Apparently there were some low-grade cancer cells, but the doc is 100% confident he got them all. He held his hands abput 18" apart and said "It was THIS big!" (which HAS to be an exaggeration!)
Just talked to her and the dopey drugs have worn off. She seems chipper. Calls the pain when she tries to move "level 3". She found a Castle marathon on cable last night after I left, and left it on until she fell asleep. So far her tentative release date is Monday, by which time the dog and I will have killed and eaten each other. Frickin' animal barked to go out at 5AM this morning!
MUCH better today. The incision tends to bleed when she gets out of bed because it's straight up her tummy. Can't do much of anything without bending the tummy. They say not to worry about it. Strange aside: I was discussing the above with a former high school classmate on Facebook, who is now a nurse, and she was giving me advice. This particular girl was the single most gorgeous nordic green-eyed blonde I'd ever seen at the age of 16, and I had such a crush on her I actually babbled incoherently when I tried to talk to her. Never got a complete sentence out in all of high school. 40 years later I'm calmly discussing my wife's innards with her via instant messaging.
And, Jesus tap-dancing christ, I can't even get away from screaming out-of-control brats in a hospital. Mary's roommate's grandchildren were there yesterday, shrieking, running around, banging into Mary's bed thru the curtain, playing with gramma's motorized bed controls... And I'm apparently going to have to kill Nikki if I want to sleep past 5:30 AM. Anyhoo, I think we find out today if she can come home tomorrow, or wait till Monday.
Home tomorrow! W00t! I walked her up and down the hospital corridor today. Remember Tim Conway's shuffling old man routine? That's her top speed right now.
Apparently her malady/surgery was similar to mine ten years ago. And indeed when your abdomen area gets cut you do move Tim Conway's "old man." :comedygold: Ten years ago I was in pretty good ARMY shape and it still took me months to where I could "go all out" at full speed with tearing something loose. I don't know her dietary habits, but trying to squeeze out an uncooperative #2 almost requires a midwife.
That's encouraging! Ran the dishwasher just now after 4 days on my own: Silverware section half full; top tray containing one drinking glass and one hot chocolate mug per day; main section contains only the bowl from breakfast the day we left for the hospital, and the plate I've been using to put the frozen dinner trays on.
Mary seems to be coming along fine. She can get around on her own for short bursts, and she's loving the oxycodone. But lying on the couch with a tray-table and a magazine is her default position for a while. Her first observation upon coming home is that our couch is WAAAAAY more comfortable than the hospital bed . In fact her nurse called to check on her yesterday, and one of Mary's comments was "Your beds are awful!" The nurse said "Yeah, I'll put you on the list with everybody else with that complaint."
^^^ Yeah, hospital beds are just one step up from a yoga mat on the floor. Glad to see Mary's doing fine.
The beds are hi-tech air mattresses that slowly pulse to prevent bedsores. Mary's roommate's (a very nice 70-ish Ecuadoran lady) hi-tech air mattress DEFLATED in the middle of the night, leaving her lying on the hard frame.
Maybe that was kismet payback for her grandkids misbehaving and her not telling them to cool their jets
Well, we had our follow-up visit and the pathology results - it WAS an early-stage cancer of the appendix, which spread to the ovary, somehow creating this 26cm fluid cyst in between. There were cancer cells in the appendix and the ovary and the cyst, but not a lot, and the surgery removed everything. The doc said they searched carefully for any further sign, flushed the abdomen thoroughly with fluids and found no further cells in the fluids. But because it was metastatic cancer (it had spread), even though it's all gone, there's no guarantee there aren't still microscopic cells left over that could start up again. So the surgeon has forwarded us to an oncologist to discuss preventative chemo. Mary was SO hoping this visit was going to be the end of it, but, well, there's more. :/
Ezzaktly. We have one neighbor doing that post-op for a breast lumpectomy, and she says it doesn't bother her. Hell, Mary's sister had to have a radioactive implant after her breast cancer surgery! But her family has a pretty good cancer survival rate.
Just a side note - We have of course had to refrain from amorous interaction since the surgery, and the doctor recommends abstaining for another month or so. Meanwhile, today is the alternate Friday that most of our department takes off. I'm therefore alone in the department with the following 26-year-old coworker, Sara: Today she's wearing a denim miniskirt and a solid color top of similar cut to the above. Perhaps running head-first into a cinderblock wall will help get my mind off it...
