Learning To Live With It

Dear Friends and Family,

It has been a little more than 6 weeks since the surgery where Elaine’s doctors found her tumors, and about 10 weeks since she first presented complaining of symptoms. Her wounds have healed beautifully. She is strong and her spirits are high. Most important, we’re over the shock, and so we’ve settled into the stark truth that this is about how we can manage a very serious situation over a very long period of time.

The texture of our lives has changed. Of course there’s the feeling that we’re sitting under the Sword of Damocles. But suddenly Elaine doesn’t have a day that’s chock full from beginning to end, and sometimes I can see she’s a little at odds that she doesn’t have as much to do as she’s used to. She tires easily, and will take at least one and sometimes several naps every day. She lost a good deal of weight through the surgeries, and must consciously focus on regaining at least some of it. She has lots of minor pains and inconveniences associated with her condition, but those are gradually ameliorating.

Saturday, 5/22

This week Elaine entered an important second stage in her cancer experience: the beginning of her chemotherapy. Monday night will mark one month since a tremendous abdominal surgery. By earlier this week, she was walking 3 miles each day on the beach, and Wednesday she did 4 miles. There is no way to describe her recovery except “spectacular.”

Sunday, 5/09

We’re just in from a 40 minute walk down onto the beach and back. Even at a less brisk than our usual pace, Elaine covered something more than 2 miles, remarkable when you consider that we’re at 13 days post-op and 9 days post discharge.

Last night, we spent an hour and a half at a 50th birthday party for our great friends Claudia and Giorgio Azzalin who, incredibly, were born on the same day in Torino, Italy and, even more amazingly, were both infused with a lighthearted sense of adventure, warmth and charm. Giorgio, in typical fashion, announced that having Elaine there was the best present of all.

From The Health Care Blog: The Makings Of A Great Outcome

The Makings Of A Great Outcome

Last week my wife and best friend, Elaine, had massive abdominal surgery. We fully expected her to be an inpatient for a week, but she was home in four and half days. To watch her recover was to see what happens when everything converges: the deep knowledge and skills of excellent, humane physicians; a capable, caring clinical staff; wonderful new technologies; and a lifetime of eating right, being fit and tending to one's health.
She lost two units of blood during the operation. It was four days before she’d be allowed any fluids by mouth, except ice chips, and 5 days before she’d have any food, which started with broth and Jell-O.

But the day following surgery, she moved from her bed to a chair and sat vertically for an hour! Twice! The first time she was dreadfully nauseous. The second time was better.

The second day, she circumnavigated the rectangular halls of the floor - probably an eighth of a mile - twice!

Friday, 4/30

Early this morning, Elaine downed half a piece of french toast that would have made a Roman legionnaire shudder, convincing the medical staff that solid food, such as it was, was in her repertoire once again. It was enough for Dr. Swartz, who promptly discharged her.

We gathered up our things, rolled her out to the pickup circle and were out by 9:30AM. Home 45 minutes later, after a shower and a shampoo, she set up headquarters in the bed, then promptly fell asleep from exhaustion. The word “ecstacy” was murmured in there somewhere.

Wednesday Night, 4/28

To watch Elaine recover is to see what happens when everything - the deep knowledge and skills of excellent, humane physicians; a capable, caring clinical staff; wonderful new technologies; and a lifetime of eating right, being fit and tending to one's health - converges.

Consider this. Less than 48 hours ago, Elaine had massive surgery: a radical hysterectomy, removal of parts of the appendix, bladder, ureter. Then reattachment of the ureter to the bladder. And much more. In the process, she lost 2 units of blood. She has had an IV drip, but hasn't eaten since Sunday, and until noon today her only fluids since Sunday have come from sucking ice chips.

Tuesday Night, 4/27

Today Elaine is back with us. She is of course still weak, but the fabulous epidural block has kept her pain to a minimum. She's managed to get out of bed and across to a chair twice, and she's got her wit and her wiseacre humor back. Tomorrow I think she's going to try walking, which is remarkable when you appreciate how traumatic the surgery was.