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I've returned from surgery!

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Posted 11-10-2007 at 09:01 PM by Loud Orange Cat

Well, I've returned from a three day stay at the hospital. Things went well... for the most part.

I get a call on Wednesday from the hospital asking if I have been taking the pre-op meds they wanted me to take. Um... what meds? This is the first I've heard about this.

I had to leave work early to get the meds and start taking them immediately to prepare for the early Thursday morning surgery. When I arrive, the hospital isn't ready for anything. And I mean that. Apparently, no one in the radiology department has their stuff together. No one has been communicating with anyone about the basics like my actual appointment time. First, it was originally 6:30am, then it got pushed back to 9am, then 6:45am. I get there at 6:45am and then they tell me that it's scheduled for 11am. What the hell?

Anyway, I'm on time. They finally get their stuff together and start my prep. The fun begins when they find out that the medicines they need haven't arrived. Nice. Then I'm told that the IVP Dye is being delivered. WAIT, WHAT?! What do I need IVP Dye for? I'm deathly allergic to that stuff. As you've read in previous posts to this chronicle, IVP Dye has literally flatlined me once before. I then start asking questions and I don't give up.

Apparently, this procedure involves pumping a gallon of this stuff through me for a solid three hours while the surgeon uses a fluoroscope to weasel a tube up through my groin all the way up to my liver to deliver microbeads soaked with this powerful superchemo to smother the cancer into its deaththrows.

I stop the surgeon and remind him that I can't have IVP Dye unless his ultimate plan was to outright kill me. He then tells me that the procedure can't be done without it. Wait a minutes... why the hell didn't you tell me this before? Do you honestly think that I would consciously agree to you killing me?

The surgeon leaves and a nurse walks up to me to prep me some more. I tell him my IVP story and he (unlike the surgeon) is very concerned. He then looks at my red allergy band that's printed with IVP Dye on it and then asks himself why the hell the surgeon is going this procedure. He goes and tells someone else.

The anesthetist walks in and starts asking questions. I tell her the same story and how this contrast flatlined me before. She tells me that if the surgeon attempts to inject me with it, she's walking her staff out of the room and there's going to be NO procedure. There's no way she's going to let this surgeon kill me.

So far, I'm starting to feel good here. There's an alternate contrast that can be used, but even after the surgeon hears about my allergy, he doesn't want to use the alternate because he doesn't feel that he'll get the same level of resolution he believes he'll get with the iodine I'm so horrifically allergic to.

Now, let's stop here and examine the situation. Iodine will kill me. Immediately. Everyone in the hospital wants this surgeon to use the alternate. The surgeon wants to use the iodine anyway. Where's the common sense here? Why is this surgeon so pigheadded as to want me to die?

I then get extremely assertive. In comes an administrative assistant who has heard that I have "a concern" about the procedure. I tell her that iodine kills me immediately and was never told that this procedure used it in any way. She tells me that it's the "doctor's call" whether or not it's used.

Again, let's stop for a second here. The hospital's administrative assistant is backing the surgeon? I mention that the hospital must be very confident in it's legal staff for any doctor to voluntarily choose to knowingly kill off its patients on a whim with so many witnesses who know of my allergy (waving my red allergy band to her). She's then taken aback and re-examines the situation quickly in her mind. She turns and walks out.

As it turns out, all of this were for naught. Six solid hours of prep work the doctors and nurses did that first day were all screwed up beyond belief. They had to postpone the surgery 24 hours until Friday morning. Saved for one more day.

Weeks ago, I visited an attorney and made out a will that will take care of my kids for the rest of their lives in case this sicko surgeon with his bloated ego decided to do things his way. Why are people like this surgeon in positions of such power, anyway?


All the medicines are ready for me and they're ready to rock. My only question is: What contrast will they be using? The iodine or the safe alternate that I've had before? Well, since you're reading this, you can guess which one they used. Duh.

Anyhow, they go me in early, wheeled me into the ER and I was out before I knew what happened. Apparently, the surgery went well. I'll be experiencing flu-like symptoms for about three weeks while the chemo does it's thing in my liver killing off the three clusters of cancer left in my body.

Now, keep in mind that this type of procedure isn't 100%. There's a small chance that it won't get ALL the cancer in my body, but at least it will definitely give me a much better quality of life than I have now.

My point to this entire procedure is to take away my pain and lethargy so I can have a better life for my children and re-enter the film industry. As soon as I'm feeling up to it, I plan to shoot my next film as soon as possible.

Wish me luck, today is the first day of my supposedly next life. More details to come as they come available.
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