Everything You Wanted to Know About a Laparoscopy.... and then some.

Last Friday was Laparascopy Day. I arrived at Virginia Mason by 7:00 a.m. for the pre-op check in. The actual procedure was predicted to take 35 - 40 minutes. The purpose of the diagnostic laparascopy is to obtain a more reliable view of the extent of cancerous activity, so that the oncologist can prescribe the most suitable treatment protocol.

While relaxing on the prep bed (covered with a warm spa-like blanket), decked out in a silly cap (which looks like a fabric shower cap), I met the first anesthesiologist, Summer. She was simply delightful. Summer is a resident, with three years of training to go (Her prior studies were in Birmingham, Alabama and in Kansas.... I think she's lucky to be here! She's married to a military man stationed at Fort Lewis). I thought she was so good, I told Michael (the main anesthesiologist) to give her a raise and let her take over. Summer reminded me of a blend of two other lovely young women, Anna Rosenlund and Erica DePosit. She had a demeanor of confidence and caring. I cracked up when she asked me if I was nervous about the procedure. She said she could offer me some lose dose Valium, which she had in her pocket. Intriguing though it may be (I've heard about Valium, have never had any), I had to honestly admit that I wasn't nervous at all, so it probably wouldn't be prudent to take the medication unnecessarily. Just to make SURE I wasn't nervous, I asked her how nervous would feel. She said like butterflies in my stomach. Nope, didn't have any of those. So, I missed my Valium opportunity.

I was asking Summer whether it would be okay for me to take an antibiotic later in the weekend, if needed, for blisters (from the 3-Day Walk). Dr. Tauben had prescribed an antibacterial ointment, as well as an antibiotic, in the event of infection. I hadn't taken the antibiotic yet, since the blisters seemed to be on a course of steady improvement. A nurse outside of my curtained room with Summer overheard this conversation about possible infection, and came swooping into our space. And, I do mean SWOOPING! She was quite alarmed that there might be an infection. She summoned a surgeon to examine my feet. He was quite charming, an avid hiker, and could relate to blisters. By this time the nursing staff had dressed my skinny stick legs in sterile looking white support hose (during the surgery they attach an electric massaging device to keep the blood circulating in the legs), so he had to peel those back. Good news. The blisters are not infected, and it was a side benefit to learn that. By Saturday I was wearing shoes for the first time in a week.

As they wheeled me into surgery, I met the other members of the anesthesiology team -- Michael again, Leonard and Stephanie. They were a great group. The ladies in surgery all had cute colorful caps, apparently sewed by one of the nurses. They were much cuter than my "shower cap" fashion statement. Michael did something to my right hand, and I told him to knock it off (kiddingly, quit hurting me and put Summer in charge. He laughed and said "You must be a princess, most people don't even feel that." Right, if he only knew! That's all I remember.

When I woke up in the recovery area the nurse told me I went to sleep laughing, and woke up moaning. Man, I did feel weird when I woke up. Not queasy, not in pain, but just plain weird. I would have rather have stayed conked out for a while longer. They offered juice, crackers and jello. Sure, bring it all on. Might as well have jello since I didn't have Valium. Jello would not be on my list of normal food to eat. I don't eat Jello anything typically. Yes, family.... that's right.... you've noticed that I never sample any of the Jello concoctions at the family holiday dinners. Who invented Jello anyway?? The apple juice was good, the saltines stuck to my teeth in a very disgusting way (I never eat carmels either because I can't stand food that sticks to my teeth). The lemon Jello was as stupid a food as I remember it to be the last time I had it (circa 1966). It won't stay on the fork, and then chooses to bounce its way off the tray, and take a jog down the corridor. Good riddance.

The nurse gave me a percocet for predicted pain. That would be a good idea. Al brought the Trooper around to the front of the hospital, and they stuffed me into the vehicle for the trip home. I mostly remember opening my eyes from time to time, to check where we were in the 20 minute journey. It didn't seem to go fast enough. I just wanted to get home and go to bed. Which is exactly what I did the minute we got home. I woke up three hours later, quite refreshed, and happy to know that Jan and Steve R. were going to come over that evening. Tana was right.... my throat was scratchy/sore. That's from the breathing tube that is inserted during the procedure. An excellent excuse to eat ice cream, of course.

I really must recover rather quickly (I did have some shoulder pain in the night, but nothing another percocet couldn't remedy). By Saturday noon we were on our way to Mt. Baker for the Labor Day Weekend. We rendezvoused with the Badts and Rosenlunds at Calico Cupboard in Mount Vernon for a yummy lunch. If you haven't tried Calico Cupboard (there's also one in La Conner), it's definitely something to put on your list for a future lunch (counts as another restaurant review). Steve continued to warn me not to allow mashed potatoes (from Friday night's dinner) to spew out of my three puncture wounds. I'll do my best to not let that happen. It's not a very appetizing thought. The three holes do look like little puncture wounds.

What a fabulous, relaxing weekend we had at Mt. Baker. Beautiful weather, and everyone was there -- Rosenlunds, Zipps, Badts, Gary & Janet. Ernie and Jan came up for Sunday night. The gang golfed at Raspberry Ridge on Saturday. I wasn't sure I should push my luck and swing a club, so I was Jan's golf cart chauffeur, and the activity photographer for the girls' foursome. Raspberry Ridge has the BEST french dip sandwiches, so we made sure we got there enough in advance of our tee times so we could enjoy lunch. Their french fries rate pretty high as well. Although, friends would say that I never met a french fry I didn't like. Gary E. was a bit distraught because he hoped to order breakfast, rather than lunch. It was seven minutes to 11:00 when we ordered. He was told the kitchen had already started switching to lunch. That was well and fine, until the table next to us (which ordered a few minutes later) received their breakfast items. Perplexing. But Gary covers it all with ketchup anyway, so I'm not sure it matters much what he has underneath that layer. Ooops, I better be nice to Gary. He prepared some incredible blueberry pancakes yesterday morning, with the fresh blueberries we picked in the ski area on Monday. Gary used to be known as "Pancake Man", but had lost that distinction in recent years because he hadn't been doing his pancake magic. It's good to know he hasn't lost the touch.

The COLOR PURPLE....
I had wondered if pancreatic cancer has a color (e.g. pink for breast cancer, the yellow of Livestrong, etc.). It does.... it is PURPLE! When we got home last night, we had an envelope in the mail from PanCan. Al surprised me with a lavender PacCan bear, and a bunch of the purple armbands (I will order many more, so you all can have one, if you'd like to wear it). It's a nice deep purple color. Pancreatic Cancer Awareness. At least we are starting to see some signs of awareness.

A big huge THANKS to Carole Bentley for sending her Jennifer Aniston wig my way! Indeed, I will have fun with that. What a sweetheart you are, Carole. I may need to re-style it just a bit; I'm told the way it looks now is leaning towards the slutty side on me. Do you think it's because the bangs hang way past my eyes? I do love how I can FLIP the hair off of my shoulders. I haven't been able to do that since I cut my own hair in the mid 70s.

And, THANKS to dear Warren Jerden who has offered to cut his locks, if I end up needing hair (Warren has longer hair than Jennifer Aniston). Isn't that thoughtful of Warren? What a guy!

On to other commitments now, so excuse any types. We must go visit my dad, and then off to see Dr. Picozzi at 4:40. I trust he'll be ready to prescribe the treatment protocol this afternoon. Stay tuned for more news on that.