From the Wife: Some of the Nitty-Gritty

Eric has been very forth-right with you about his thought processes and some of the realities that were facing him before the surgery. I know he will continue to do this once he is feeling a bit more up to it. Until then, I shall continue to hijack the blog and share some random details that may otherwise get overlooked.



1. The liquid diet - pre and post op - is difficult for many reasons for the person who has to partake of it (Eric can give you the details). For the spouse, it is also difficult. I found myself very aware of the foods I was fixing -- worried about them being too fragrant or too tempting for Eric. When it came to preparing meals, I found that I was in a state of mourning. At the end of the day, Eric and I typically cook supper together and catch up with one another. This didn't happen often while the liquid diet was in effect. I certainly don't blame Eric for not "helping out" - that isn't at all what I am saying. Rather, I mourned the time that we shared together over meal preparations. It did, however, lead me to realize just how much we count on food to be the center of our family rituals. Oh, and another thing about the liquid diet: it makes you stupid. Ditzy. Flaky. On a good day, a person may consume 600 calories on the pre-surgery diet. SIX HUNDRED CALORIES. It is easy to flake out with so little feeding your brain. Eric tried to burn down the house (left a stove-top burner on) and tried to asphyxiate me and our youngest daughter by warming up our car in the garage without putting the garage door up. Thankfully, both of those times, I was not far behind him and kept any harm from being done. The liquid diet is NOT for the faint of heart.



2. I was not ready for how pale Eric was going to look post-operatively. He slept much of the first 24 hours after surgery (except for a recurring case of the hiccups - perhaps Eric will share that story with you.), which I was prepared for, but the lack of color to his complexion is what brought home the severity of the surgery that just took place. Then again, perhaps it was less about him being pale and more about the hospital gown not being in his color palette...



3. Eric had an On-Q ball for pain management. Essentially, On-Q is a catheterized pain med that is placed and feeds directly into the surgical location. If you or someone you love ever has one of these, be thankful -- it works wonders. While on the pain ball, Eric's pain was never above a 3 on a 1-10 scale. Once it was removed, the pain hovered closer to 5 and 6. If you have to remove it at home, like I did, know it isn't as scary as it sounds. I am a complete medical wuss -- if I can do it, anyone can (truth: I had my mother-in-law on alert - her sole purpose other than emotional support was to pick me up if I passed out).



4. Follow all the rules. Follow the pre-surgery rules. Follow the post-surgery rules. The rules are truly there for your health and recovery -- not to make your life difficult. If the rules say walk, then walk. If they say don't eat, then don't eat.



5. Our children are resilient. I knew this before, but was reminded of the reality this past week. Not only did they live through Daddy not eating for two weeks, they lived through a week of Daddy in the hospital during a blizzard -- a time when I couldn't even come home to them because the roads were impassable. They survived a week of craziness filled with snow days, Nana days, and missing Mom and Dad. Upon our return, they were gentle, caring, and adoring of their Daddy. They have held up through this ordeal better than I could have ever imagined.



There are other details to be shared, of this, I am certain. But for now, may this whet your appetite until Eric is back. I promise... I shall limit my hijacking of the blog. I don't promise never to hijack it, just to limit how often I do. I appreciate Eric's kindness to allow me to share my voice in the midst of this deeply personal experience.