An Impatient Patient

These next few tales are not for the squeamish. You may want to skip them. Details can be a bit... too detailed. Continue at your own risk. I can't be rushing around with smelling salts and cool head-washcloths to soothe faintees. I have an actual patient to keep alive.

Farmer H went directly to his recliner when The Pony brough him home from surgery around 5:15. He was moving slowly, and carrying a plastic bag the size of a briefcase. One side white, the other side clear. It was his pee bag, hooked up to his catheter, to remain in place for the next 7 days, after the roto-rootering of his prostate.

That's the scary part! He was only supposed to need that catheter for ONE day. Then the surgeon said Farmer H's prostate was more vascular than he had assumed, and the catheter needed to remain until the follow-up visit a week later. That the pressure would help keep the bleeding stopped.

WELL! One would hope so!

The fluid in the pee bag was not a pretty sight. The Pony and Farmer H assured me that such a red color was expected for a few days. It was like cherry KoolAid. That only to worry if it became thick, or had clots. If that happened, Farmer H should get to the ER at the hospital where he had his surgery (30 miles north), and not either of the two ERs down here, because they don't have a urologist on call.

Farmer H said that he was supposed to drink a lot of fluids. That soda was fine, too, along with water. His throat was sore from the anesthesia tube. He was hungry, but wanted something smooth. Smoother than the fake Hamburger Helper with mushrooms and beef stroganoff flavor. I offered him Vienna Sausages and a slice of Hawaiian bread, and he was thrilled.

Farmer H has assorted medicines for when the catheter comes out. Like an antibiotic, and a weird painkiller that will turn his pee orange or red. Also a painkiller for immediate pain, which was OXYCODONE. I didn't think they even gave that to people anymore. It's hard enough to get hydrocodone after a surgery. But Farmer H had 8 pills. He took one at bedtime.

I looked in on him several times. He slept pretty good, since he didn't have to get up for the bathroom all night. He says he can't sit in his recliner because it hurts to get up. So he alternates between the couch and my OPC (Old People Chair).

Farmer H went to town on Friday around noon. He visited with his buddies. He's not supposed to sit on hard surfaces. He said a shower was allowed. That he only needed to put his pee bag on the floor of the shower. I did not think this was a good idea.

I was proven right later Friday night...

Under The Knife And Back In The Life

I had not planned on giving any details of the surgery Farmer H had on Thursday. It has long been delayed waiting for assorted tests that were bungled by assorted providers. Anyhoo... the rescheduled surgery day arrived. Farmer H said it's fine to share online. Even his picture (!) which HE told The Pony to take at the hospital!

The surgery was scheduled for 1:00. Farmer H had to be there by 10:45. The surgery was by his urologist. I don't know what it was called, but Farmer H always refers to it as "roto-rootering my prostate." Meaning that the urologist was going to shave around inside his prostate, the goal being to open up a stricture so that Farmer H can empty his bladder more completely, leading to less frequent emptying, which wakes him up through the night, and keeps him hopping through the day. Supposedly this is a minor surgery...

The Pony kept me updated.

10:37 "In the waiting room now. Being taken back."

11:24 "The copay was $300. He put it on the debit card. Still back in pre-op, IV in and questionnaires done. Waiting for the anesthesiologist to come talk with him."

11:25 "He said to send you a picture. I mostly avoided seeing his bare rumpus as he got into the gown."

[Though he said I could share the picture, I have added fake sunglasses. You know, in case a solar eclipse breaks out while he's lying there.]

11:26 "Try to make him not nervous. Tell him I love him."

11:27 "I told him. He says he feels like he could fall asleep!"

11:28 "Heh, heh."

12:49 "They just took him back, almost exactly on schedule. I'm backin the waiting room now."

12:53 "Did they say an hour?"

12:54 "45 ish minutes was the latest I heard."

1:14 "Text update, surgery has officially started."

2:11 "Surgery ending update."

2:17 "Says he's back in the recovery area. Haven't called me back yet."

2:48 "Any news?"

2:48 "The patient is doing well" came in just now. Nothing about being able to go back yet."

3:10 "Back with him now. He says, 'I guess they've got a  bag I'm peeing in but I don't know.' A pause 'and that's burning.' He says his throat hurts, which, yeah they had a tube."

That's from the recovery room. Farmer H is always slow to come out of anesthesia.

3:12 "He reminds me of a mummy in a sarcophagus."

3:13 "Yeah. He's not awake enough to do much of anything."

3:14 "I guess they're not worried, if they let you back there."

3:15 "They're gonna bring the meds he's getting here and we'll pay with the debit. He's on some kind of IV drip right now."

3:24 "He says, 'I feel like I just peed. I can't tell if I did or didn't.'"

3:25 "Probably not, if it didn't hurt!"

3:26 "He said it did first! But yeah, that's the catheter at work."

3:37 "Nurse just emptied his catheter bag or whatever they had him draining into. So much. She said half an hour, maybe 40 more minutes and he can go."

4:36 "We're getting last discharge instructions. Catheter until next Wednesday so he doesn't bleeed out from the prostate."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The original details from the urologist, pre-surgery, mentioned coming home with a catheter, which could be removed the next day, either by Farmer H or a nurse.

More tomorrow...

My Eyes Could Feast, But My Tongue Could Not

Last time The Pony came out, we picked up Chinese food. I always get the Chicken and Broccoli, with white rice that I give to The Pony to take home and use in a later meal. Farmer H likes the Hunan Chicken with fried rice. The Pony switches every time. This time it was some kind of chicken. I don't recall the name, but The Pony said it was spicy. 

Indeed. I was gifted the two broccoli pieces that were in it (The Pony is not a fan), and I almost choked to death. Okay. I wouldn't make that statement to The Pony. Who did actually almost choke to death too recently...

Anyhoo... since cutting back and making wiser choices, The Pony only ate part of the meal, and took the rest home for another day. It still looked delicious.

"I added ginger and curry powder and water chestnuts."

That still looks really good. I think that's the original fried rice that The Pony got this time with the meal, though usually it's white rice. As good as it looks, I know that one bite would have me sputtering and choking. I don't like the spice. The exception is hot Chinese mustard, which I use sparingly. And some horseradish occasionally.

Freezer Nutrition For The Pony

The Pony has been cutting back and making wiser choices. Some of those choices include frozen dinners. Here's a particular favorite:

"It's Chicken Pesto Rigatoni. Only 430 calories I think. And somehow has 25g of protein!"

"Chicken has a lot of protein."

"Yeah! I was just shocked because that's 43% of the daily value in one thing that's only a third calorically!"

"That's why I eat a lot of chicken."

"Texture leaves a little to be desired, but yknow, it's microwave chicken. I like these for days I don't feel like properly cooking. Just to mix into the lineup."

"Yeah. It's good, and convenient."

And a better choice than ordering something delivered, The Pony agrees.

Feed A Farmer, Starve A Patient

Farmer H's minor surgery was scheduled for Thursday. I wouldn't really call it minor, because general anesthesia is involved. But as surgeries go, it doesn't compare to his neck surgery or back surgery. The Pony was tasked with driving him home, though Farmer H planned to drive them both to the hospital, which is 30 minutes north.

Since I knew the surgery was coming up, I asked Farmer H what he wanted to eat for his "last supper." I thought it might be something light. Surely you don't want to go into a surgery feeling all stuffed and bloated from a hearty meal. Or DO you? Farmer H apparently does.

"I'll be starving to death! I cain't eat past midnight. I have to be there at 10:45. The surgery is at 1:00. It's supposed to take an hour. Then recovery. I'll be really hungry by the time it's over!"

So I made generic hamburger helper for Farmer H's supper the night before surgery. It's egg noodles and a powdered sauce, to which you add milk and hamburger. I didn't have any milk, but I substituted sour cream. The skillet had a pound of ground beef. Plus I added two cans of mushrooms. It turned out well.

Farmer H didn't eat the whole thing. I divided it into thirds. That gave him a large bowl of the noodle dish. It looked like beef stroganoff. He also had two biscuits with butter. Then a Little Debbie cake and a piece of watermelon.

Right now as I type, he's out of surgery and in recovery. The Pony says he's not asking for food. He says his throat hurts. Which is understandable after having a tube stuck down there.

Somebody DID Tell Him

This week is supposedly chock full of activities for Farmer H. He has been planning ahead, telling me what each day will bring. 

"Monday I have a dentist appointment. Then Tuesday is the monthly meeting for the apartments, in my new office. Wednesday I'm going to Illinois to pick up stuff for my store. And Thursday I have my surgery."

So many activities, so little time, for WORKING ON TWO FLIP HOUSES!

Anyhoo... Farmer H came in Monday evening. With a story.

"I got to the dentist on time. I sat there waiting for my appointment. Then she come out and said, 'What are YOU doing here? Your appointment is for the 24th.' So it wasn't today. It's in two weeks! I don't know why I thought it was today."

He said, picking up the notification postcard the dentist sends out, which was lying on the kitchen table right by the door, clearly showing his appointment date as August 24th.

I sure hope Farmer H is right about that surgery date...

You'd Think Somebody Coulda TOLD Me

This has been one of the most sustained heat waves I remember. I know it's hot in July. But usually we have several days between those 100+ heat index days, when temps might drop into the upper 80s. It seems like six weeks this sustained heat has settled over Hillmomba. I don't enjoy going out to get my scratchers, but I won't go without them like I would in an ice storm.

Saturday, I stopped by the Liquor Store. I haven't been going in there regularly, because often they're out of some of my favorite tickets. That's disappointing after walking in and standing in line. But I'd had several winners out of the 10Box machines, on tickets that are slow-moving. So I wanted to wait and let other people buy the assumed losers right after my winners.

Anyhoo... I got the parking space I like at the Liquor Store, the one on the far left end so nobody can park next to T-Hoe's driver's door. IT IS easier to get that space now, since the fake slot machines have been outlawed. I hobbled along the slanted blacktop next to the brick building, the heat pressing down on me like a damp quilt. Inside, there was only one man waiting at the counter. Seemed to be a problem with his card.

I stood a respectful distance back, holding my scratcher winner to cash in. The Clerk Gal was telling Customer that it shouldn't be too long. He was worried that his card would be charged twice, because he ran it through twice. She was watching her cash register monitor. He was watching the little square that shows his charges.

After about five minutes, a Boy Clerk came from the drive-through window. He asked about using cards, and Clerk Gal said they wouldn't work right now. Then they both walked back toward the drive-thru area. A young man parked in front and came through the door. I don't know if he was going to buy vapes, or scratchers. He stood beside me, rather than going through the aisles to pick up liquor.

I don't know if New Guy knew Customer, but he said, "What's the matter, man? Is it your card?"

"Yeah. Their internet's down, and it won't scan."

"Huh. That's tough."

New Guy walked back out, and I followed. He stopped to hold the door open for me.

"I'm so glad you asked! I could have been there forever. Nobody bothered to say the internet was down!"

"Yeah, I'm glad I asked."

Businesses can't even sell scratchers for cash when the internet is down, because they have to scan in the purchase to show that it's lottery. So who knows how long I might have been there waiting for nothing!

I took my business over to Casey's instead. Where I won $50 on a $10 crossword.