*This is something I started typing in October and never completely finished. I figured I'd post it anyway.
Brayden and I have been watching Christmas Movies all week. I don't know about anyone else but I'm ready for Christmas. I'm ready for the loads of sugar, the snow, the Christmas tree and the works. Maybe I'm just excited because my husband will be home this year.
I'm ready for Thanksgiving too. I LOVE GOOD FOOD!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Tumor Free!
I just got a call from Dr. Butler and she said my margins are clear. I'm done! It's over! I'm finished! The misery is ended!
Slow Mohs #2
Before . . . . . .
After . . . . . .
The dots on the before picture are for measurement purposes. Yes! They drew on me.
Forks, Scalpels and the Smell of Roast Beef Round Two
It was nice to have Chris with me for this surgery. It was just more of the same. They took out another piece of skin and sewed me shut again. Each time I feel more and more that my armpit is becoming my shoulder blade or vise versa. We are still waiting to hear if the whole tumor has been removed.
If this surgery doesn't work I talked to the doctors about an experimental surgery. They were all to eager to give it a name. I suggested that they sharpen an ice cream scoop and just dig it out. Dr. Fosko named it the Super Scoop. The nurse renamed it the Fosko Super Scoop. They thought I was joking! Can you believe that?
Before I divulge the next part of the story I have to give you a disclaimer. Chris was an EMT in Provo and saw all kinds of gross stuff. He has always had a strong stomach and has never been fazed by blood or gore.
The doctors let him stay in the room but he had to sit in a chair by the door. The rooms are small enough that he could still see everything. They got to the part where my insides are hanging wide open and he decided he needed to leave for a few minutes but before he can get through his sentence to tell them where he's going he blacked out. Luckily he was still sitting in the chair and I'm the most fabulous tumor doner they've seen in a while so there was gobs of people in there. The head (Dr. Fosko - pictured above) recognized what was happening before Chris did and ran over and wrapped his arms around Chris's legs just as he blacked out. So Chris woke up to a man with the most fabulous mustache right in his face! Once conscious he had to lay on the floor for a few minutes. Because he couldn't get up he missed the smell of my roast beef. That's what he gets for stealing the spotlight. When he could walk he was escorted to his own operating room, reclining operating chair, pillow, and a snack! I didn't even get a snack!
The day after surgery they called to check on me and make sure everything was going okay and then they asked about Chris. I just had to laugh. He really was the life of the party! It will be an experience we won't soon forget.
If this surgery doesn't work I talked to the doctors about an experimental surgery. They were all to eager to give it a name. I suggested that they sharpen an ice cream scoop and just dig it out. Dr. Fosko named it the Super Scoop. The nurse renamed it the Fosko Super Scoop. They thought I was joking! Can you believe that?
Before I divulge the next part of the story I have to give you a disclaimer. Chris was an EMT in Provo and saw all kinds of gross stuff. He has always had a strong stomach and has never been fazed by blood or gore.
The doctors let him stay in the room but he had to sit in a chair by the door. The rooms are small enough that he could still see everything. They got to the part where my insides are hanging wide open and he decided he needed to leave for a few minutes but before he can get through his sentence to tell them where he's going he blacked out. Luckily he was still sitting in the chair and I'm the most fabulous tumor doner they've seen in a while so there was gobs of people in there. The head (Dr. Fosko - pictured above) recognized what was happening before Chris did and ran over and wrapped his arms around Chris's legs just as he blacked out. So Chris woke up to a man with the most fabulous mustache right in his face! Once conscious he had to lay on the floor for a few minutes. Because he couldn't get up he missed the smell of my roast beef. That's what he gets for stealing the spotlight. When he could walk he was escorted to his own operating room, reclining operating chair, pillow, and a snack! I didn't even get a snack!
The day after surgery they called to check on me and make sure everything was going okay and then they asked about Chris. I just had to laugh. He really was the life of the party! It will be an experience we won't soon forget.
Friday, August 1, 2008
You want another piece of me?
Monday I went to my follow up and everything looked good. They sent me home and said I was done. Wednesday the good Doc called and said that I need to come back for round two of Slow Mohs. There was scar tissue at the margin which means that there could be more tumor deeper in my skin. I'm not happy. Round two is scheduled for Wednesday August 6. Chris will be able to come with me this time. I hope they let him stay for the surgery part of it. If they don't I may have to throw a tantrum! Maybe I'll throw a tantrum anyway.
I'm coming up with a list of things I can do with the kids our last week together before surgery and our last week before school starts which will be my recovery period. The later is a little more difficult because I will only have the use of one arm and I may not be able to drive depending on the drugs they prescribe. Any ideas would be great. A whole list would be better. Please leave a comment.
I'm coming up with a list of things I can do with the kids our last week together before surgery and our last week before school starts which will be my recovery period. The later is a little more difficult because I will only have the use of one arm and I may not be able to drive depending on the drugs they prescribe. Any ideas would be great. A whole list would be better. Please leave a comment.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Forks, Scalpels and the Smell of Roast Beef
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post about my surgery. I think I have a good excuse though.
I got to the waiting room last Monday about 10 am. I was the last one to come in and one of the first to leave for surgery. I didn't think that was very fair to everyone else waiting for their turn, but I was glad get mine over with.
In the surgery room they took my vitals, asked a million questions, and had me take a pregnancy test. Yes, it was negative. Sorry to disappoint. After I was sterile the fun began.
They took an initial piece of flesh off the top with the part of the tumor they could see. The pathologist came down from upstairs to pick up the initial piece herself. I don't think this is common practice because the doctor seemed surprised to see her. Once that was out they dug deeper and took everything down to the fat layer. It was a hole about the size of a quarter but it wasn't round, it was football shaped. While they were cutting I could hear their scalpels cut what sounded like gristle in places. YUM! Everybody (nurses, doctors, PAs, etc.) kept coming to see how it was going. They were so excited to have some different kind of tumor to cut out of someone. They all wanted to be a part of it. The doctor would say things like, "If you're going to be in here get me a ______."
After they removed the chunk of tissue they had to separate the skin that was still attached to my muscle so that they could stretch the skin enough to stitch me shut. They also cauterized in a few places so that I wouldn't have a problem with it bleeding too much. While they were in the process of cauterization I found out something new. I smell like roast beef when I cook! While they were stitching me together an assistant had to use two instruments that look like forks with their tongs curled back around toward the handle. They used this to pull the skin together while the doctor was stitching to help the stitching be tight and not rip out before they were done.
When the doctor was done the nurse put steri-strips over the incision. Steri-strips look like that old tape with thin strings inside. This also helps keep it together and keep germs out. It's good stuff too. They told me to just let it fall off on it's own. I'm still waiting for that part.
The doctors want me to see a dermatologist every six months for the rest of forever. Sounds fun! Like licking a dead cat fun!
It's been a rough week. I thought it would be like having stitches. It's NOT! Luckily I have a great friend, Jolynn, who took me to surgery and back and another awesome friend, Kim, who watched my kids for hours during surgery and, and, and . . .I could go on. I've had meals and phone calls and a wonderful husband that sees me through everything including partial insanity caused by medication. Chris has been my rock and my stay. I love you!
Today I feel more like I just got stitches. I'm feeling less sore and able to move around. I can't lift anything heavier than 10 lbs. until next Monday, and I can start driving again on Wednesday. The end is near . . . I hope. We still haven't heard anything from the pathologists. We are still praying that they got it all. I believe. Help thou my unbelief!
I got to the waiting room last Monday about 10 am. I was the last one to come in and one of the first to leave for surgery. I didn't think that was very fair to everyone else waiting for their turn, but I was glad get mine over with.
In the surgery room they took my vitals, asked a million questions, and had me take a pregnancy test. Yes, it was negative. Sorry to disappoint. After I was sterile the fun began.
They took an initial piece of flesh off the top with the part of the tumor they could see. The pathologist came down from upstairs to pick up the initial piece herself. I don't think this is common practice because the doctor seemed surprised to see her. Once that was out they dug deeper and took everything down to the fat layer. It was a hole about the size of a quarter but it wasn't round, it was football shaped. While they were cutting I could hear their scalpels cut what sounded like gristle in places. YUM! Everybody (nurses, doctors, PAs, etc.) kept coming to see how it was going. They were so excited to have some different kind of tumor to cut out of someone. They all wanted to be a part of it. The doctor would say things like, "If you're going to be in here get me a ______."
After they removed the chunk of tissue they had to separate the skin that was still attached to my muscle so that they could stretch the skin enough to stitch me shut. They also cauterized in a few places so that I wouldn't have a problem with it bleeding too much. While they were in the process of cauterization I found out something new. I smell like roast beef when I cook! While they were stitching me together an assistant had to use two instruments that look like forks with their tongs curled back around toward the handle. They used this to pull the skin together while the doctor was stitching to help the stitching be tight and not rip out before they were done.
When the doctor was done the nurse put steri-strips over the incision. Steri-strips look like that old tape with thin strings inside. This also helps keep it together and keep germs out. It's good stuff too. They told me to just let it fall off on it's own. I'm still waiting for that part.
The doctors want me to see a dermatologist every six months for the rest of forever. Sounds fun! Like licking a dead cat fun!
It's been a rough week. I thought it would be like having stitches. It's NOT! Luckily I have a great friend, Jolynn, who took me to surgery and back and another awesome friend, Kim, who watched my kids for hours during surgery and, and, and . . .I could go on. I've had meals and phone calls and a wonderful husband that sees me through everything including partial insanity caused by medication. Chris has been my rock and my stay. I love you!
Today I feel more like I just got stitches. I'm feeling less sore and able to move around. I can't lift anything heavier than 10 lbs. until next Monday, and I can start driving again on Wednesday. The end is near . . . I hope. We still haven't heard anything from the pathologists. We are still praying that they got it all. I believe. Help thou my unbelief!
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