Bloody Hell! Another surgery coming up and this one’s a doozie. In it, they will need to remove my intestines (temporarily) to get at my shredded muscle in the abdomen to patch it back together so I don’t sit on a piece of—oh how shall I put this delicately—bowel, any longer. When I was told about the intestinal removal by one of the two docs performing the procedure, I had to have him repeat it, I was so incredulous. A true and honest “excuse me?” moment.
Now, I have to tell ya, I’m sort of a “surgery veteran” having had too many already, and I’m not exactly faint of heart, as it were, but this is a tad disturbing. I love science, I love learning about the human body. I am a curious person at heart, a proverbial learning junky but yikes! I’d rather read about the whole intestinal removal and temporary depository for someone else’s innards instead of having to learn it first hand with my own. But I digress!
So, having my last phone conversation with one of the surgeon’s staff, I asked her “where do they put my intestines when they remove them; in a bucket?” Without skipping a beat, she said “no, they just set them on the table beside you.” Actually I don’t think she said ‘table’ but something equivalent. “Is it clean?” Bless her heart, she didn’t laugh. “Oh that’s right, it’s a sterile field,” I mused. Sigh.
Now, as I’ve said, I’ve had other surgeries and while obviously I was under anesthesia for each and every one, there’s a few moments before going under where you’re conscious. Those “tables” are not very wide, as I recall so I’m a bit concerned about someone getting careless about my guts’ placement. Plus, aren’t intestines slippery? Then there’s the whole peristalsis thing where they contract and push, as if they have some sort of journey they’re destined to make. Could they slide around and off in search of new locals? God help me!
While I like to think I’m mostly tough (though I was uncharacteristically depressed after the last surgery,) I’m also a tad (tad?) neurotic so you can see why I’m a bit concerned here. I’m sure it’ll all go fine, my intestines will stay put on the “table” and journey back via exceptional surgical delivery skills once the initial repair is completed. Then all that will be left is the healing with occasional whining by me for good measure.
Without a doubt, I have had excellent medical care and exceptional surgical care. And while I have as much faith in those that will be doing this next gig as any to date, it still gives me pause. After all, the whole surgery does seem a bit riskier. But hey, you gotta put your faith in something and in this case several someone’s.
Just, for God’s sake, make sure my intestines are secured once they’re outside the body, and not at risk of sliding off to parts unknown. Oh, and don’t put them back sideways or upside down either. My guess is both docs will want the anesthesiologist to knock me out as soon as possible once I’m in OR so they won’t have to listen to any instructions from me. Bless their talented surgically gifted hands, minds and hearts!
My goodness. Let your guardian angel watch over your intestines. New job for her too!
It will turn out as well as it’s supposed to. You seem to have confidence in your surgeon. That’s the best you can do.
I’ll do what I can as far as praying for you and them.
You have a 💯 per c ent record of surviving surgeries. You’ll do fine!
When is it?
Yes, on the other side of it now. 🙃
Some how I am flabbergasted over the funny, yet not funny description, story anecdote that your provide around your upcoming, and past situation. As always thank you for sharing your unique insights on an all to normal and human situation. I couldn’t help but laugh; more than once at your musings. I of course attempt to sympathize your situation, and the best I can do is possibly empathize. I thank you for your candidness, and send my best thoughts, feelings, “energy” towards you in this and every occasion that it may provide some support and nurture for you.
Thanks Taylor. ☺️
Gives a whole new meaning to the term “spilling your guts”. You’ve done a good job expressing in your words which you have such a gift of using and writing. Having done so now, no more need to spill them “literally.”
Bless you on your journey and may the healing begin!
Thanks, Lynne. 🥰