De-Livered
I quit blogging in April for a good reason. In April, I was undergoing tests to determine what was causing pain in my lower left abdomen. I learned that I have diverticulosis, a common problem among over-60 year old Westerners. It's because we don't get enough fiber, or so they say.

I also learned that I have an ovarian cyst and "lesions" on my liver. My OB-GYN said that ovarian cysts are common and not to worry. So I did not worry about that. But lesions on the liver are worrisome.

After a CT scan and MRI, I learned that I had a simple cyst and a biliary cystadenoma in my liver. Not good news - I love my liver! Neither of these were caused by drinking. The biliary cystadeoma is a rare, congenital thing that occurs in women over 40. The only treatment is excision, and if you leave it alone, it will most likely become malignant. So I took the only rational option. I had a third of my liver removed.

I learned a lot about livers. The liver is the second larget organ in the body (skin is the largest). The liver and the skin are the only organs that regenerate. They can take up to 75% of your liver, and it will grow back in 6-8 weeks. Amazing!

The surgery was performed on May 10, during the NBA playoffs. I called the hospital in advance to be sure that they had the cable channels I needed to see Dallas play San Antonio. As I was in the hospital for five nights, this was critical. I could not miss those games. Dallas won that series, and the next, and went to the Finals before they were defeated - but I digress.

My five nights in the hospital were not the most pleasant nights I have had. In fact, I was pretty miserable. I swore that I would never have surgery again unless it was a matter of life and death. I had never spent the night in a hospital before, so I had to idea of what to expect. What I learned is that you get no rest because someone is checking on something every few hours. And all of them are concerned with bowel movements. I have never had so many people interested in my poop!

A big accomplishment in the hospital is being able to walk the halls. Exciting, huh? It's a challenge to manuever the poles with IV bags and wires - and keep your balance - and not run into the other patients. I hope I never have to go through that again.

My family and friends were great. I had lots of visits, calls, flowers, and cards - so I did learn that a lot of people care about me. That's what got me through it all.

I came on day 6 and slept for several days. That's exactly what happened - I slept all day and then couldn't sleep at night. But at least I was at home and could watch my Mavs on HDTV. And I had visitors and more reassuring calls. I will always be grateful to everyone who helped.

I was off work for seven weeks. I lost ten pounds. I was totally relaxed. Then I walked back into the office and was famished. I found the ten pounds almost immediately.

During my recovery period, I got better each day, albeit slowly. But one part of my 9" scar would not close. I had oozing, and I went to the doctor every week to see what was causing it. After I had been at work for a week, I returned to the doctor and demanded that we see what was happening. They shot my stomach up with novocain and dug and dug but could not fix it. They thought it was a suture absess. The only option - go back to the OR and open me up again.

So much for no more surgery.

It turns out that they had left a 12 cm (4-5") piece of a pain pump in me. When I got to my hospital room, I swear that the Discovery Channel was showing a program on "surgical instruments left behind." This was mid-July.

I spent one night in the hospital, then came home with a huge open wound - just like Tony Soprano after Uncle Junior shot him. The thing was GROSS. I could have fit a Mounds and a half in it. I had to pack it with gauze soaked in saline twice a day.

Needless to say, I didn't go to the office - or much of anywhere for a while. It was Labor Day before the thing completely closed.

Now I have a scar that looks like Our Lady of Guadalupe (with a 6" tail).

Now it's November, and I have had ANOTHER surgery. This was to repair an incisional hernia. Incisional hernias are not uncommon after abdominal surgery. The incision from one or both earlier surgeries weakened my abdominal wall and some organ started poking through.

Our Lady of Guadalupe morphed into the creature from "Aliens."

The third - and hopefully last - surgery was yesterday. They were able to do it laparascopically, so I was able to come home the same day. I'm whacked out of my brain on painkillers, but at least I am in my own bed with no nurses waking me every other hour.

Our Lady of Guadalupe/Alien now has some new holes around her/it.

My dreams of being a pole dancer are over.