George Jr. and Miralax Kept Me Going

“The last few years of my life have been a little like a long drive in a Poop DeVille with the bottom down.”—Pat Paulsen

In the previous entry, I touched briefly on the recovery from surgery. With a six inch incision on the left side of my back, sleeping comfortably was the biggest challenge. As I am a side and stomach sleeper, I figured as long as I laid on my right side or stomach, it would be dreamland easy-peasy. I was so naive. 

When leaving the hospital, I was prescribed medication for pain. Looking at the prescription I recognized it was a lower strength of my post-surgery boyfriend George. This was George Jr. I presumed. He would make recovery tolerable. The discharge nurse went over the dosage instructions. Take one tablet every four to six hours. Really? That often? She stressed it was important to stay ahead of the pain. I thought to myself I wouldn’t need to take it that often. George Jr. smirked, “Ha!”

She also recommended I pick up some Miralax when filling the prescription. “You’ll thank me later.” Boy oh boy, I did. One of the side effects for this pain medication is constipation. Really bad constipation. Thanks to George Jr., he keeps everything backed up like it’s valuable treasure I needed to hoard. When he would allow something to pass, it resembled rabbit poop. However, I believe rabbits have an easier time eliminating their booty pearls. Miralax became another new best friend. So much so, I considered buying stock in the company.

My initial sleep strategy was to arrange a dozen or so pillows in a cocoon formation with just enough space for me to fill in the center. It took a few minutes of arranging   and rearranging. I took a George Jr. and gingerly plopped in bed. In less than five seconds I realized this was not going to work. Then I couldn’t crawl out due to excruciating spasms of pain. Was it too soon for another George Jr.?

With my husband’s help, I headed to the recliner and didn’t venture far from it for a couple of weeks. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but George Jr. was helpful. After a week, the incision pain had begun to diminish. I started to cut George Jr. to bedtime only. However, a new pain cropped up that was not associated with the incision. It felt like having an invisible bully that would sneak up to give you a purple-nurple multiple times a day. Only their aim was way off. George Jr. whispered, “Don’t worry, babe. I got this.” Miralax murmured, “Just relax. Let it go.” 

In the follow up visit with the surgeon, his nurse practitioner explained to me what I was experiencing, “When your ribs are spread during surgery, it really irritates one nerve. That is causing the pain.” The good news was that it will settle down eventually. Eventually? The constant twisting jabs had lessened, but it could be months before it stopped. My son, the not-so-reassuring optimist, said, “Look at it this way, Mom, years ago they would have cut you open and cracked your chest for this kind of surgery!” Oh, that makes me feel so much better. As soon as we could safely visit in person again, I planned to give him a severe purple-nurple.

My surgeon told me again that the  surgery went well and I was recovering nicely. He also demonstrated again the size of the tumor. Okay, okay, I get it!  It was BIG. Now what? Thankfully, he didn’t ask if I wanted to keep it. The pathology report confirmed that it was malignant. Already knew that. The report also revealed that three of nine lymph nodes along the sternum were also malignant. Hmmph, figures there would be some rebels in the bunch. They just couldn’t hang with the good kids and had to play follow the leader with Big Mama tumor. Jerks. What to do about them? My surgeon said he figured chemo was in my near future. He then declared he was done with me and good luck with the rest of my treatment.

I have had some ask if I can tell a difference with my breathing now that I have just one lung. Nope. It feels much the same as it did prior to surgery. The big difference is the persistent cough is gone. In fact, it disappeared immediately after surgery. So without a lung, what is my body doing to compensate for that space? It’s now filled with fluid. Hmm, does that mean I can spend days in the desert without hydrating? No, but I was told that during exertion I may actually slosh. Wow, that’s a cool party trick.

A few weeks later, I had a follow up brain MRI to check on that tumor. A couple days later II met with Brain Guy, radiologist. Good news!  The tumor had decreased in size with no signs of swelling. He pronounced it “dead.” Yay! However, something else appeared on MRI that wasn’t there previously. It looked like I had a stroke either during surgery or shortly after. Apparently this is not unusual and I’ve had no symptoms or side effects. Although, I was kind of hoping for a stroke of GENIUS! It just meant my surgeon was being replaced with a neurologist. Lose one doctor, gain another. Sigh.

The next chapter starts the Chemo journey.