Kidney Don't Fail Me Now!

So week one is behind me and I'm still on the right side of the dirt. Being my first time at this recovery thing, I think it's going okay, but it's kind of like driving without a map. Eventually you get there (most of the time), but you don't always get to see all the sights along the way. I have in my mind what I'd like to accomplish. I need to put the "map" together. There will be two groups of activities on the map: Physical activities: These are the easy ones - getting back to the physical activities that got pushed to the side because of the surgery and recovery, and  Social activities: Over the past few weeks/months, I've put  a lot of activities on the backburner. Most were to avoid getting sick (even a cold would have been bad) prior to surgery. Anything related to social interaction - avoiding large groups of people (for us any family gathering is a large group of people), staying away from the grandkids (including the new one) - was basically

A couple images from the NSFW file. #1: The original radiologists report said 17 cm. He must have been measuring across the tumor. Preliminary pathology is that it is malignant. There's a kidney somewhere in there. #2: The horizontal incisions were for the robot to do its thing. The long vertical incision is to get the puppy out. After seeing the size of the tumor, I now understand why the incision is so long.

It's been a week since surgery. I am feeling pretty good. Since this is my first time doing something like this, I'm not quite sure what the expectations are, but I'm getting in and out of chairs and bed, able to get up and down the stairs - basically all my ADLs.  There are two things I'm struggling with: Sleeping: I am (was?) a side sleeper. In my current situation, that's not an option. I slept (or tried to) for a couple nights on a recliner. I ended up pretty miserable both nights (sliding down the seat, ending up with a sore neck or back, etc. I know - big baby syndrome. Doesn't really matter though when I'm feeling miserable the next day. It's hard enough dealing with the stress and pain - it makes it harder when I'm mentally and physically exhausted. I slept back in my bed Wednesday night. I think I got in a decent 4 hours or so. Thursday night was a little better - getting somewhere around 6 hours of sleep.  It's always cold!: I know my b

These were some notable milestones reached on Monday (8/22); Made it up the stairs Showered Shaved Made it back down the stairs Didn't take any pain killers Bowel movement (!!!!)

 Almost caught up here - just a couple more days. I think it was around 6 that I was carted out of post op and to a regular room. To me it was a maze of corridors and doors. I ended up in a single room somewhere. I remember my wife being there. I remember her asking me if I wanted dinner. I had no appetite. I'm glad she insisted that the nurse bring some juice and jello though.  I was pretty much out of it the rest of the evening. I was in some pain from the incision (at this point I didn't know how large it was). It was pretty obvious at this point there was no chance of being released Friday evening. I think my wife left around 8:30, and I tried to get some sleep. I would drift in and out of sleep, usually awakened by the RN or PCA to take vitals or give me some meds. The one other thing I remember was the longer the night went and the more aware I became, the more uncomfortable I got. I was wearing some socks and these inflatable leggings to reduce clotting. I had tubes layi

The next thing I remember was looking at the clock. It was 5:30. What?  Before I go a whole lot further, I need to let you know that this chapter's memory could be influenced by the effects of anesthesia. My wife said she spoke to me on the phone and kept telling her I was confused. I have no recollection of a phone conversation with her. The nurse (I think it was the same person who prepped me early in the morning) told me my wife was on her way. I think I said something like "Well, that took longer than planned." I think he said yes, but that everything went well. Dr. Yamzon showed up. He let me know a couple things - the tumor was much larger than anticipated - I think he said 20 pounds. He also said that they had to create a large incision to get the tumor out. I remember saying something like "That explains the pain." (Hey! I'm blaming the anesthesia) At some point, my wife showed up, because she heard the same thing that I did from the doctor - "T

Last I wrote here was that all systems were go. I posted here about an hour after getting the call back on the 18th. We settled in for dinner (a rosemary grilled chicken and peach salad) before packing and heading the 55 miles to Duarte. We had reservations at Hope Village, the on campus hotel for patients and their care givers (no - the public can't reserve a room, and the family can't come for vacation). I settled in for a pretty restless night of sleep. I think the only person who got less than me was my poor wife. I was up before my 5:15 AM alarm went off and showered as instructed. Okay to use soap and water, but nothing on my skin afterwards (no shave, no deodorant, no make up). About 5:45 we started our short walk to Helford. As always, we were greeted by the most courteous staff and sent over to the waiting area for admitting. We sat for maybe 5 minutes when I was called. All the paperwork was ready - including my wife's contact number, email, etc., so they could ke

The call came in at 3:20 PM today. I jumped when I saw the 626 area code. I need to show up tomorrow at 6AM at Helford. No eating or drinking after midnight.  It's real.

Covid test was negative. Check. Today is about waiting for the call to let me know what time surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. I'm feeling some anxiety this morning. It's the fear of the unknown that's weighing on my mind. Of course, if I were logically thinking about this, I probably have a greater chance of being struck by lightning, and there are no storms in tomorrow's forecast. One thing that I need to do today for sure is to reset some recovery goals. I feel like earlier this month, I was way more focused on recovery goals. Then again, the plug got pulled a couple days before surgery. My defense is I'm further along in the process this time than I was a few weeks back. This time it appears to be real. 

I was supposed to work today. I realized after dialing in, the last thing I needed was the stress and pressure of the job on top of what I'm already feeling. I took the advice of a friend and cleaned up my desk and gave everyone orders.  I felt guilty doing it, but in retrospect I think it was the right decision. I really didn't need to leave for my surgery feeling more guilty. I spent the afternoon watching YouTubes of " ROBOTICALLY ASSISTED LEFT NEPHRECTOMY RADICAL." Go ahead. Type it in the search box. I dare you. It was actually quite impressive. Imagine five pairs of hands in this small area trying to remove a kidney. I was suprised to see just how protected our kidneys are behind all the other organs in there. I was even more suprised to see that from the time the first incisions were made to the time the kidney was put in the bag for removal was less than an hour. Wow. Tomorrow is Covid test. At least I'll get to drive somewhere.

 For the first time this go around I was feeling very anxious. It started around 3AM... How am I going to sleep if I can't roll over on my left side? How am I going to get downstairs and make my coffee? What if I can get my coffee but can't walk to the bathroom when I need to pee? How are we going to get the grocery shopping done next weekend? And so I tossed and turned the rest of the night. By the time work came around, I was exhausted and my mind was still going 100 miles an hour. I ended up taking a sick day since I'm sure my mind would have been somewhere else all day and the last thing I want to do is to start dealing with issues that aren't going to put me in the right mind set for Friday. I ended up going for a longish (3 + mile) walk. I've been trying to stay awake the rest of the day....

 Minus a last minute call two days before, Friday is the big day. Ready as I'm going to be. It's been a tough weekend though. I'm avoiding contact with people to avoid getting sick. Even though Covid peaked a week or so ago, the last thing I need is a positive Covid test on Wednesday. Avoiding contact meant that I can't enjoy new granddaughter, Madison Rose, who arrived last Thursday. Cyrus is growing like a weed and every time we get to see him, there's a new suprise. And Luke is getting so communicative. I really missed spending time with them. I'm working Monday and Tuesday. My mind will most likely be elsewhere though. Covid test on Wednesday. Relaxing day on Thursday. Hopefully get a call on Thursday night about surgery time Friday morning....  

Quite a week.  Last Monday (two days before surgery), I got a call from my surgeon's scheduler, "Good morning Mr. Jones. Has Dr. Yamzon talked with you?" Eeesh. What is going on now? What don't I know about my condition? Is there something that the doctors found while studying my chart and images? "No," I replied.  "Oh. Okay. We need to let you know that Dr. Yamzon has Covid and we need to reschedule your surgery." The mechanics were easy enough. We rescheduled surgery for the 19th and a Covid test for the 16th. I really should have written something in this journal. I was ready. I was focused on recovery. I was too disappointed to do antything except some sulking. Time to buckle back in. Surgery is two weeks away.