Friday, January 19, 2007
Surgery
Johns Hopkins operates several facilities in the Baltimore area that one would think of as hospitals: Johns Hopkins Hospital, located northeast of the inner harbor area; an outpatient center just east of the inner harbor; and the Bayview Medical Center, east of the city center just of I-95. As I had mentioned in the earlier post, the surgery was to be performed at the Bayview Center, but that was labeled incorrectly on the older map. But, after a few twists and turns, we made it.
My intake was scheduled for 11am, with the surgery beginning at 1:30pm. We arrived a little early, and of course the surgeon was delayed by the first procedure of the day. They hooked me up to an IV right away, as I was a little dehydrated. Coleen and I played charades in the pre-op ward for the better part of an hour before they walked me over to the prep room. They added stuff to the IV, gave me an antacid, and wheeled me out to the operating theater.
And that's the last thing I remember. I have no memory of being in the operating room, no memory of waking up in Recovery in (what they tell me was) terrible pain. Nothing. The next time I was aware of anything, it was when my wife was teleporting around my room, a little before 6pm. I'd open my eyes, and she'd be on the right side of the bed. I'd blink, and she'd be on the left side. I have vague memories of the time before that -- I think somewhere during that time, my surgeon came in and told me that things had gone well, and the nurses seemed to be coming and going, changing my IV bags and checking this and that. My wife tells me that they would not let her come and see me at first because I was in such discomfort.
I think the anesthesiologist and his assistant came to see me as well to tell me that they may have chipped one of my teeth and scratched my throat when putting in the breathing tube. As far as I can tell, I've no broken teeth, and I never used the throat spray they gave to me. So, all in all, it seems to have gone well.
The specific procedure I had was a laparoscopic radical prostatectomy (LRP), a relatively new procedure that is in the category of 'minimally invasive' surgeries. Rather than opening the patient up with a large incision, the surgeon makes smaller incisions through which the laparoscope is inserted, along with the cutting instruments. I have four abdominal incisions in all, one about 1-1/4" directly below my navel, two more about 1/2" each about four inches on either side, and the fourth a little more that 1/4" closer to my groin. Doctors can perform laparoscopic surgery either directly, amnipulating the instruments themselves, or by way of a robot. My surgeon did mine by hand, using a robot only to position the scope and the lights. He says he prefers to have the feel of the instrument, and who was I to argue? After, we pay him the big bucks because of his dexterity.
Of course, I remember none of the procedure. Just waking up with Coleen teleporting in the room, and a night of rest.
Until my roommate arrived.
Monday, January 01, 2007
Surgery Prep
And recuperating. I did have the surgery in November, seven weeks ago today. Lots has happened; I will try to set it all down in order over the next few posts. In this post, I will write about the preparations for surgery.
The first order of business was getting my college affairs in order. I did plan on missing only one week of classes, the one before Thanksgiving break. Nevertheless, I wanted to be sure that my classes could be covered afterwards should the need arise; any surgery complication or delay in recovery could mean that my students would finish the term without me. That is not a knock on my colleagues, but rather a note that continuity in mathematics courses matters a lot. Mathematics is tough enough without changing lecture styles or classroom expectations in the middle of the course.
I also have advising duties. This year, I served as the advisor to twelve new students, ten entering as first-year students and two as transfers. The time period right before Thanksgiving is also the registration period for the winter term. While we do have a week before this devoted to advising, there are always issues that come up during registration: closed classes, changes in programs, etc.
This is also the time of year when seniors and some juniors are beginning to request recommendation letters and other assistance in their future plans. It's a pleasant enough task, but does require some attention -- I would hate to miss a deadline and mess up my students' plans.
My responsibilities to my colleagues were easier to deal with. I have been withdrawing from the front lines of committee work for a few years now, and am currently just a member of the Faculty Development Committee -- not that it's unimportant work, but it is a little easier to do than the work I was doing before on the Executive or Curriculum Committees. I am also observing one of my colleagues who is up for tenure, and am expected to write a report of my observations for our Faculty Review Committee.
My classes were easy enough to divvy up. I was teaching a section of statistical methods, our Calculus III course, and our Senior Seminar. Any of my colleagues could step in for those courses. My colleague who travels with me to Australia is a veteran advisor as well, so I simply gave him my advising files -- I think he had one student whom he helped. The students who needed letters and such were in my seminar class or had done research with me, so they were aware of what was going on with my disease, and thus were very careful to keep their materials as organized as possible and to give me extra lead time. And my colleagues have been more than willing to accomodate me.
The 10th was my last day of classes before my surgery. While I had not been broadcasting my disease, I had not kept it a secret, either, so I did have several students and faculty who made a point of wishing me well. It was comforting. Looking back on that day, I do think I was not at my best, especially in the Calculus course. I had hoped to begin the final unit, on vector calculus, but was thwarted by a lot of questions I should have anticipated (but did not).
My financial and personal affairs were easy enough to address. My wife takes the lead in our family financial stuff, so I had few things to do there. I did fill out a medical proxy naming my wife as the person who would make decisions for me if I could not do it myself, with my brother-in-law as a backup. This is something the medical care providers are pushing in the wake of the Terry Schiavo incident.
And just for the record: I could care less about pain. Not being clear-headed is unacceptable. And if my proxies ever hear the phrase "persistent vegitative state" coming from a dcotor, they are to let me go. The doctors are to harvest what they can. The family is to burn the rest and scatter the ashes in a location only they know.
Saturday was a packing day. It was also the state championship cross-country run, in which my younger son placed 51st out of a filed of 250. Not bad for a sophomore!
My sons stayed in Elmira with neighbors and friends. Pulling them from school was never under consideration. The surgery is important, but their schooling is, too.
It was also to be the last time my wife and I made love with my equipment unaltered. I am not overly sentimental about this, but I figure it's a question that a reader might have. Saturday was the last time. We knew that we'd both be too stressed out on Sunday, and I'd probbaly be too out of it from the diet anyway. I will write more about post-surgery sex later.
My surgery prep was relatively simple: a clear liquid diet all day on Sunday, with a citrate of magnesia at 5pm, nothing but water after that until midnight, and nothing at all after that. I did get that part a little screwed up; I thought I was supposed to stop drinking anything after the laxative. More on that when I get to the surgery.
Sunday was also the day for Coleen to drive me to Baltimore. We figured she should do the driving, since I might be a little woozy from the clear liquid diet. The drive was uneventful. We arrived in Baltimore around 4pm at my in-laws home, the place to which I would return to recuperate after I was discharged from the hospital.
The only thing about Sunday evening that was a little tense was the feeling that my wife and in-laws were not sure about where the Bayview Medical Center was. I knew, but I would not be the one driving there. Johns Hopkins has at least three places in Baltimore that one would think of as hospitals. The Johns Hopkins Bayview Medical Center is only about eight years old; it was called the Francis Scott Key Medical Center before that. And that was the name on the city street map we were all consulting, so they were convinced I had to go to another hospital a couple of miles away.
But I did get there on time on Monday, and the surgery went ahead as scheduled. In the next posting, I'll write about the surgery. Happy New Year.
