Does Polly want a Cracker?

Happy Hump-day and welcome back to my blog.

Yesterday I described to you the events that led up to me going under the surgical knife, in hopes of removing the cancer that has unwisely chosen my mouth to call home. Today I will continue sharing the story of my in-hospital experience, first by describing what medical procedures were conducted while I was under the knife, and then, what transpired when I first awoke from my surgical slumber. 

So, I had two procedures completed while under the knife. The first procedure is called a glossectomy, which in medical terms means I had a portion of my tongue permanently removed. Since it was not the entire tongue, and did not involve the base of the tongue, my procedure was considered a partial-glossectomy. As many of you know, the cancer tumor had grown on the bottom-left portion of my tongue. The hope was that the doctors could shave off the cancerous portion, cover the exposed tissue with a skin graft from my thigh, and all would be as it was. Unfortunately, my tumor had grown too deep. (Remember me telling you about the carrots?) So, instead of trying to maintain the traditional shape of the tongue, my doctor decided it would be best to fold what was left of the top-left section of my tongue, and stitch it together.

Now, my tongue looks like a sideways parrot tongue. Yes, it even has a tip to it just like this picture.

The second procedure completed that day is called a bi-lateral neck dissection. A neck dissection is a procedure aimed at taking control of all lymph nodes in an area to prevent cancer metastasis. Some head and neck cancer patients get away with having one side or the other done. Some patients may even have a single, or small group of lymph nodes removed and that's it. I'm sure a lot of this is driven by cost, which is such a shame. Since I am being taken care of  by Uncle Sam's insurance, my doctor decided not to risk my future and to have everything removed now. So, I had over sixty lymph nodes removed from all over my neck... to include the original six that were first mentioned what now feels like years ago.

In order to complete this procedure, the doctors had to make a single incision from one earlobe to the other, following the natural crease in my neck. My skin was then stretched and pulled in all directions in order to expose everything inside my neck. It then took them hours of gently picking through the jungle of blood vessels, tendons, muscles, nerves, and other nonsense, weeding out all the know lymph nodes in both sides of my neck. The hope is that any and all lymph nodes impacted by the cancer have now been removed.

I remember waking-up somewhat combative. I can vaguely remember voices instructing me not to pull of any tubes. I can recall some very small snapshots in time where I was receiving a lot of instructions from people surrounding me. I don't recall being in a panic, so I suppose that is good.

My first actual memory is of Jess. I woke-up as they were wheeling me into my long-term recovery room. I'm guessing Jess had been allowed to follow us since it was her I recall taking most my instructions from. As the fog lifted, I can remember trying my hardest to determine the extent of my surgery. I could still feel my tongue inside my mouth, but I knew something was not right with its shape. I felt my thigh, trying to determine if they had taken a skin graft, but I could not tell yet. I remember rubbing my fingers across my neck, feeling what seemed like hundreds of metal staples in a uniform line. My mouth felt full. I'm not sure it was just a swollen tongue, but I remember it feeling very uncomfortable. I don't recall any pain.

I can vaguely remember Jess filling me in on some details. I remember she told me it was past 9 p.m. which I knew was a problem since my surgery was only scheduled to last 3-4 hours. I believe I tried to obtain additional information, but I'm not clear what all we covered. Even if something of value had been discussed, I probably don't remember now because I was slipping in and out of reality.

I can also recall the nurses giving me a crash course of my hospital bed and manual pain delivery button. Instead of being on a drip, I was given a button trigger like device that glowed green when a medical dose was available. When the button was depressed, the green glow went out and stayed out for ten minutes. After ten minutes, the green light would glow, I could press the button again, and would receive another hit of pain medicine.

All-in-all, I don't remember much of my first night. My biggest recollection was the frustrations of not being able to ask all the questions I had flooding into my head. I do remember Jess holding up a camera phone so I could look at myself and the work the doctors did inside my mouth. I knew my tongue looked twisted up an unusable, but I still had hopes that maybe things would be different after all the healing.

The last thing I remember before passing out for the night was a second person being wheeled into my room. It was really late... past midnight. An entire team of nurses wheeled in a patient of another bed. There was a lot of discussion about an emergency gall bladder removal. I think I was still under the effects of my own anesthesia because I was able to ignore all the hustle and bustle, passing out until I was awaken some hours later.