So, I've been trying to catch you all up, but a lot happened in the week of and following my surgery. I had a post-op appointment with my ENT surgeon on Thursday, but I don't want to loose out on sharing with you the "in-hospital" part of my journey. Without further ado, please allow me to jump back where I left off... in the hospital.
The first morning following surgery felt somewhat surreal. As many of you saw, I had sent out a selfie on Facebook, which should give you an idea that I was in relatively good spirits. Now, I don't know if it was the drugs, or simply my body not realizing yet that it had just went through a significant trauma, but I did not remain on this same "high" throughout my hospital stay.
I recall waking-up in the hospital room alone. It was quiet and peaceful, only the gentle snore of the patient next to me could be herd. I had been using my pain button routinely, so pain was not much of a concern. The night before was foggy, and I had a lot of unanswered questions on my mind. I didn't want to wake my neighbor so I left the TV off, and I had no valid reason to call a nurse in, so I just sat there quietly taking in my surroundings. I was trying to piece together what I could of my surgery the night before when I suddenly took notice to my cell phone plugged into a charger next to me. Jess must have set my phone up for me. She might have told me, but I doubt I was in any condition to remember anything.
I used my phone's camera to evaluate the surgeon's handiwork. The outside of my face was obviously swollen. I could see the staples surrounding my face, which came as a surprise to me because I would have thought the wound would have been covered. I could also feel and see the four drainage jugs hanging from my neckline. All four of them had a little bit of bright red fluid in them. I can remember chuckling to myself thinking the whole thing looked like a vampire blood harvesting farm. Like a maple tree with a syrup spike, only it was my neck and four tubes leading into these small jugs.
I then started to peak around in my mouth, which was a bad idea. I knew the swelling would be deceiving, but I couldn't help worry when I saw my tongue in the shape it was it. It had a tear drop-like shape, was twisted upward, and bent significantly to the right. Nothing about how my tongue looked gave me any hope of ever speaking normally again. Within a matter of seconds, I went from being in a peaceful state, to feeling a huge sense of stress and panic.
Just as I could feel myself beginning to slide into a state of depression, the door to my room opened, and in walked a nurse. The nurse was there to take my vitals. She was the same nurse that had been taking care of me throughout the night, but this was the first time she checked on me and I wasn't in a groggy, doped-up state. She was nice, and took her time taking my vitals, cleaning up my wounds, and emptying my blood jugs. I had a lot of questions, but she was only able to answer a couple of them. She informed me that the doctors would be in shortly to check-in on me.
The nurse left, and I was left there again to relax in the quiet room. I suppose the nurse's visit was more excitement than I was ready to handle, because as soon as she left, I fell asleep again.
I hadn't been asleep long before the doctors stopped by to see me. It was a team of four residents. My primary doctor (the ENT surgeon) doc nowhere to be seen. The residents were led by the same female doctor I had encountered in pre-op. She was just as pushy during this visit as she was prior to my surgery. The residents asked me a couple questions and looked at my numerous wounds. All-in-all, they were pleased with the way everything looked. The entire meeting with them happened so fast, and was so impersonal that they had left before I could even muster a single question. Clearly it was not their job to attend to my personal needs and/or concerns.
I spent the rest of the morning and much of the day slipping in and out of naps. Jess, my mom, and Jossalin stopped by during the morning hours to see me before they left for the airport. It was nice getting to see them, although it was heart wrenching to see my daughter cry when she saw me in my current condition. Getting to see her really helped me out of the slump I was falling into. Jossalin reminded me that there was more to this life than a tongue. No matter what happens from this point on, I always have my family to tent to, and they could careless how well I speak.
The days in the hospital were long. I was receiving routine visits from the nursing staff, with the occasional appearance of one of the ENT residents. I spent a lot of time catching-up with the news and eavesdropping on the family next to me. He was a younger Hispanic gentleman, whose entire family remained at his bedside through-out the duration of the hospital's visitation hours. (from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.)
I found much joy in analyzing the internal workings of the hospital's nurse staff. Like any organization, the hospital is challenged with personnel issues. It was easy to tell what nurses were new, and which ones had some seasoning. It was also easy to tell which nurses valued their jobs, and which ones didn't. I was fascinated to see how complacent some of the nurses had become in their jobs, and how those same nurses were the ones that appeared to value their jobs the least. Since I was in the hospital for six days, I had the opportunity to meet and observe numerous nurses at work, and after awhile, the nurses felt comfortable opening up to me when I asked them questions about their work-center. There were the same common workplace dysfunctions going on at that hospital that I can find within any military organization. As someone who studies the art of leadership, I find comfort knowing that leadership principles and theory are universal. It doesn't matter what type of job is being conducted... if people are involved, there will always be issues for leaders to address. The key is for leaders to keep an ear to the ground and constantly be aware of what is going on around them.
Six days in a hospital is a lot. I thought I could do more, but after the fifth day, I was going stir-crazy. In my six days, I moved rooms twice. The first time was because my room was needed for a special needs patient, and the second time was because my neighbor informed the hospital staff that their home was infested with bedbugs. There were times where I was alone and times where I had roommates. I can definitely say that having a room without a roommate is MUCH better.
The length of my hospital stay was being driven by those drainage jugs in my neck. The doctors did not want to send me home until I was comfortable to do so, and one of my demands was that I have those jugs removed for I left. They were a bit of a nuisance and if anything was going to get infected, it would have been those. So, I felt it was best I stayed until the jugs were removed. The first two were removed the morning of day four and the other two on day six.
I went home in the morning hours on day six following the initial surgery. It is kinda funny, because my post-op follow-up appointment was scheduled for a week after the initial surgery, which is the very next day. I couldn't help but to think what would have happened if I was left in the hospital for one more day. Would it really be a follow-up appointment? So far, there has been no word from the pathology department regarding my surgery results. Hopefully we will find out more tomorrow!
Yet another fascinating blog. Such a stressful time for you in the hospital, I'm so happy you are resting at home now. Thanks for including the picture of you and I, I love you so very much!
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