Month: May 2016

Just a short entry to let you know that I was released from the hospital this afternoon. I’ll be convalescing at home. Thank you for all your support. This is not the end. The adventure will continue.

There was an incident that occurred last night when my son and daughter-in-law were visiting that I chose not to write about. But after sleeping on it, I thought I would share it because of its spiritual significance.

The hospital is a different world than the one that I normally live in. Because I still have tubes attached to me, I’m confined to my bed and have to pee in a special little plastic jar which hangs by the side of my bed. Lisa was sitting in a chair beside the bed when the jar fell to the floor and splashed her. Her first response, as was mine, was one of horror. That response was followed briefly by one of disgust but soon turned to laughter.

Lisa said that being splashed by a stranger’s pee would have been traumatic, but because it was family it was OK.

Brandon, who is cool and competent during emergencies, went out into the hallway and came back with cleaning supplies to deal with the puddle on the floor.

When the emergency was over, we talked about the spiritual significance of the event. As I talked about how Brandon had peed in my eye when I  was changing his diaper, the “Circle of Life” from the Lion King ran through my head.

For Lisa it was a baptism of sorts–a welcoming into the family. I think the incident brought us all a little closer.

I didn’t sleep much last night. There’s a big clock on the wall and I watched it until the sun came up. Now I’m ready to sleep.

It was a good day. I had x-rays taken this morning and my surgeon visited to say that he’s pleased with his work. He said that it was difficult surgery but he likes a challenge. He is obviously proud of his accomplishment and believes that my new titanium hip will last me for the rest of my life. I hope he’s not saying that because he doesn’t expect me to live long.

The rubber hose was removed. A nurse told me to take a deep breath and then she yanked it out. It was a strange feeling that I won’t attempt to describe.

I had visitors today. It was a party all day. Corinne spent the day with me. My brothers John and Mark came with magazines, chocolate, and a new Miles Davis book. My friend and neighbor Gaston brought magazines and the New York Times. Dear Stela Kostova brought flowers, wine, and chocolate. Randy, my cube mate and friend, arrived with good wishes from the office, maple syrup, and Jack Daniels whiskey. And my son and daughter-in-law, Brandon and Lisa, spent the last part of the evening with me. It was great to see everyone, and it made the day pass quickly.

Corinne had an interesting experience. She had noticed the tired old file folders for patients” files. They were torn up and Scotch taped together. Corinne went to Staples and bought 100 file folders to give to the surgery department. Her gift was met with confusion but eventually appreciation.

Tonight I stood up for the first time and tomorrow I’ll be walking.

And now I’m falling asleep.

Today has been an adventure.

We checked in at 6:30 a.m. I was taken to a room where a nice woman shaved my leg and my butt. And then a nice young man with a Montreal Canadiens logo tattooed on his arm asked me some questions and gave me some pills to swallow. Corinne who was prepared to spend the day at the hospital, was told she might as well go home and wait for a call.

I slipped into a stylish purple gown and was wheeled to the operating room. The anaesthetist is a good friend of a previous neighbor, and we had a good chat. Then my dear neighbor Johannes, who works at the hospital, appeared and wished me luck. It was wonderful to see her.

The next thing I remember was waking up with two beautiful nurses looking down on me. I wondered whether I had died during surgery, but learned that I was in the recovery room. The surgery had only taken 3 hours not 4 and I’m told that it went well.

Now I’m in my room looking at the casino through my window, feeling good, and typing on my phone. People complain about hospital food, but this evening I felt like I was dining at a fine French restaurant. I had creme de pomme de Terre and the sandwich du jour followed by cubes of jello. It was excellent.

Corinne and Matt were here for a visit. They’ve gone now, but I’m feeling quite at home.

I don’t feel any negative affects from the drugs. They seem to make me more honest though. If it weren’t for the drugs I probably wouldn’t mention the rubber hose that is stuck up my penis. Those readers who have penises will imagine what this feels like.  It’s not painful, but it is a bit weird. It’s not something that I ever considered doing at home. The good thing is that I never have to get up to pee.

I could say more but I won’t. I think the drugs are wearing off.

 

It’s 9:30 on the night before surgery. As I write this blog entry, I’m watching a medical drama on TV. I should change the channel but I’m compelled to keep watching.  Oh no! The patient has just gone into cardiac arrest, and they’ve brought out the crash cart. Thankfully, Corinne changed the channel, and now we’re watching a documentary on Janis Joplin–I know her story doesn’t end well. And, an announcement just came on to say that Donald Trump has been declared the Republican candidate for President of the United States. But, despite all of this, I’m feeling positive about my surgery.

Preparing for surgery is like getting ready for summer camp. The book that the hospital gave me provides a list of things for me to bring and instructs me to label everything with my name. Everything is labelled and my bag is by the door.

Tomorrow, Corinne and I check in to the hospital at 6:30 a.m. and my surgery should be over by noon. Hopefully, I’ll be lucid enough to write a blog entry tomorrow, and if I’m not, I may write anyway. Tomorrow is when the adventure really begins.

At my pre-op information session, I learned about the 20/80 rule. It says that the surgeon bears 20% of the responsibility for a successful operation, and I bear 80% of the responsibility. Is it just me, or does that ratio seem crazy? The 20/80 rule means that the surgeon can do a bad job of his part and, provided that I do a good job of my part, we can still have a successful outcome. Even if the surgeon doesn’t show up, I still have a good shot at a successful outcome. I think the hospital is exaggerating the numbers in the hope that it will make us patients more responsible.

Part of my responsibility involves learning from others who have had hip surgery so that I can do the right things. I read that Nick Nolte was anxious and went on a vodka bender the night before his surgery. As a result, his surgery had to be postponed. I learned from Nick’s experience, and I won’t go on a vodka bender the night before my surgery.

It’s my responsibility to maintain a positive attitude, and writing this blog helps me to do that. When my son Brandon was helping me to set up this blog, he pointed out that my suggested URL, ronshipadventure.com, would be read as “Ron Ship Adventure.” Readers expecting adventure on the high seas might be disappointed to find a blog about hip surgery. So, thanks to Brandon, I chose the less misleading URL of myhipadventure.com.

Tomorrow I’ll keep working on my 80%. The day after tomorrow, my surgeon will contribute his 20%, and I hope he gets it right.

Thank you Bill and Sue for sending me this cartoon.

Miles Davis and I have things in common. We’re both trumpet players. As you can see from the photo below, we both have brass instruments (although I’m actually playing mine and he’s just holding his). That’s Miles on the left and me on the right.

Of course, there are differences between Miles and me. For example, Miles was a genius. He changed the direction of American music several times, and I didn’t. My lack of musical achievement may have been due to the attention that I gave to my other passion—technical writing. Miles, unlike me, wasn’t plagued with a passion for writing software manuals, and so he focused on music. It’s just as well, because I believe that Miles would have been a terrible technical writer and would probably have been fired in his first week.

The other thing that Miles and I have in common is that we both had hip replacement surgery as young men and then again later in life. To make myself feel good about the outcome of my impending surgery, I watch Miles’ 1986 video of Tutu, in which he struts confidently after his 3^rd hip surgery.

That’s the way I’ll be walking a month from now. I’ll be strutting like Miles.