where I'm calling from

I woke several times during the night, but was, for the most part, OK.  The nurses fed me morphine by tube every few hours, then started with Percocet tablets and anti-nausea medicine. I ate little plastic cups of apple sauce to coat my stomach, then tried to sleep. Two drains, connected to my throat, sucked out all the accumulating fluid and blood, collecting in a horrible tank at the head of the bed.

In the morning, Jim popped in before heading in to the office. I was very pleasantly surprised. The doctors also saw me on their rounds. My drainage on the right side was nearly done so they removed the drain, but left the left side connected. Because of the continued drainage, I was informed I would need to stay another night. I settled in and ordered some cream of wheat when ...

Surprise! Cherry Bombed and Jo showed up with a lovely orchid and lots of encouraging smiles. All morning, flowers kept arriving. As we chatted and visited, Jim came back, sporting an expensive French regenerating spa gel for my scar. He is so thoughtful. The poor boy was exhausted from hoofing up and down First Hill from the waterfront TWICE.

The afternoon passed rather uneventfully. I picked at my food and tried to keep enough in my stomach to prevent myself from being queasy. In the evening, Paul and Linda stopped in to see how I was doing and to shower me with gifts from the family. I was coming to realize that I would need a shopping cart to get all the presents and flowers home.

I watched The M's vs. The Royals ballgame, a rare treat since I don't have cable at home, then fell asleep with the aid of more Benadryl. Coincidentally, two of my four nurses were thyroid cancer survivors, so we talked about it, various treatments and prognoses. One of them, Sarah, was an adorable elfish looking woman with thin, long arms, and the cutest pixie haircut ever. She'd had two surgeries already and I had to hunt for her scars.

Later that night, I know I had a full-on Benadryl + Percocet hallucination as I watched a stationary object, a keyboard tray, seem to dip and sag towards the floor. I chuckled to myself. With one drain out, I was able to more easily sleep on my side, which made the night pass easier.

By Wednesday morning, the left drain was still sucking out fluid, though it had slowed. If things continued to trickle, I would be sent home that evening. By mid-afternoon things were draining slowly, so my surgical resident doc came in and removed the second drain.

Uh-oh.

Though nothing was coming through the drain (blocked?), lymph fluid started flowing out of the incision and down my throat, chest, stomach. Constantly. A steady seep. A dressing would saturate in 10 minutes. RN Sarah didn't know what to do so she sent me home with a bag full of supplies.

Jim took me home and hooked up a new awesome Water Pik shower head in my shower. I stood in the shower and let the spray wash away the seepage. I got out and toweled off, then realized I would need to improvise. I wasn't going to be able to wear a shirt, so instead I threw a clean towel around my shoulders like a boxer, and clutched a clean washrag to the incision. This makeshift dressing would serve as my outfit for the next 36 hours, with the towels requiring a swap out every hour or so while I was awake, and at least three times during the night.

Heather and Alex stopped in and witnessed the Great Zombie Neck Weeping of 2009 before heading out into their Wednesday night. Knowing I would need to be semi-upright, I settled in on the couch while exhausted Jim headed out to find some food.

And there we fell asleep: me on the couch clutching absorbent rags to my throat, and Jim on the carpeted floor, until I finally sent him upstairs to my bed, with his phone in hand, in case I needed him.