Many hands make for light dressing changes

This is not our first cancer rodeo. We are a bit of an anomaly with our 24/7 supervision and detailed notebook of documentation. This second round of surgery watch has been a little easier than the first just because we aren't surprised by every single thing. There are still surprises, mind you. Finding that Rich had stitches with dressing packed in them versus the staples he had last time was one huge surprise. It's been the most stressful thing about post-op so far. Twice a day they have to pull out the dressing and repack it with new dressing. It takes 30 minutes at least and is very uncomfortable. So we've been learning how to make that as smooth as possible.

I came back to the hospital room around 9:30pm last night and there was a bit of a hubbub in the room. Rich looked utterly fed up with everything. His dad said that the night nurse had come by and Rich was not a fan of her. She was apparently pushy and asking about walking and saying he needed to get his dressing changed three times a day versus twice a day. Rich was not happy.

Rich Sr went back to the hotel for the night, leaving Shannon and I for the overnight shift. I was again doing my part as a heartbeat in the room while Shannon was being the brains. I talked over the dressing change with Rich and told him that if she was not good at it, or if she was doing anything he didn't like we could get the charge nurse. I wasn't going to go on a rampage or pick a fight with the nursing staff. We were just going to make sure they were aware that the dressing change is A Big Deal for us. I felt confident that Shannon and I were well adept at being kind under stress and we would not have security called on us.

Around midnight our night nurse stopped by. I was prepared for a Nurse Ratched, only to find this quiet Japanese woman. She asked what time we wanted to do the dressing change and we requested 5am. I told her that we'd like a 10 minute warning so we could start the morphine pump and get ahead of the pain. She said that was fine and she would be gentle and slow. I thought to myself, "This is bossy?"

5am came and Nurse Rina came in with all her supplies and a smile. She brought enough gloves for Shannon and I to participate as much as we wanted. She explained everything she was doing and was very gentle. It still sucked, but it sucked as little as possible. Rina was in charge of removing dressing and repacking dressing, I was in charge of cutting the dressing and holding Rich's hand, Shannon was in charge of the iPhone timer for the PCA morphine. We got through it in 30 minutes flat.

Rina thanked us for letting her do the dressing and wished us good night. I later discovered that when Rich's dad had left, he stopped to tell Rina that Rich was very sensitive about the dressing change, both physically and emotionally. He asked her to be patient with him and if he was grumpy with her to not take it personally.

When I was walking Shannon to her car this morning, she said she felt like she hadn't done anything. It was funny because I felt like I hadn't done much overnight either. And Rich's dad wasn't even there overnight. But each of us had a small job. Just because we don't feel overwhelmed, doesn't mean we're not doing what we're supposed to. It's actually just proof that Team Stryker is performing just like it should.

Onward, Christian meddlers

I was dozing on a sofa in the waiting area when Laura woke me up to say I was being paged. When I saw it wasn't a phone call but our surgeon Dr. Shen, I knew things hadn't gone as we had hoped. There was no magical slime removal that took 12 hours and ended with Rich being cured. Dr. Shen went over the details of how much tumor he could remove and how much he had to leave behind. He discussed how my husband will have a tube running from his small bowels to the outside of his stomach along with several drainage tubes and staples. He talked about the possibility of sending us home on intravenous nutrition if he was still not able to eat. It was all a little overwhelming.

Once he left, I started to cry and Laura came over to hold me. Laura is well endowed and I was able to just bury my face into her right boob and sob. That was her entire job today and she was kicking ass at it.

Suddenly there was this old man standing over us, his arms embraced around our Vishnu tangle of arms and legs on the sofa. He was inches away from my head and cooed, "I'm praying for you, girls. It looks like you got some bad news."

I didn't get a good look at him, preferring to keep my gaze into Laura's right armpit and contain my snot to her pullover. Laura said "thank you" in a way that actually said "leave us alone." Her body language with me was very loving but her tone would have withered a tree. And yet he stayed. Laura followed up with a simple, "We're covered," pointing to the cross around her neck (which I was ignoring in favor of the comfort of her 36FFFs). And still he stood there, smiling and murmuring creepily.

Laura opted for distraction, like throwing a tennis ball for a dog. "We could use some tissues." He nodded and just made that "mmmm" noise again. At this point I was silently asking Laura's right armpit, "What the Actual Fuck?" Laura, undaunted, tried again. "Tissues? Could you find us some tissues?", she continued, touching the tip of her nose for emphasis. He paused and finally moved back just a touch, "What's that?"

Like a grizzly bear, I snottily bellowed into Laura's armpit, "MORE TISSUES! LESS PRAYERS!"

"Oh, ok." and he quietly retreated back to his bench, returning with two tissues. He still wanted to hover, but I think Laura's Jedi mind tricks were finally getting through to him. Even once I used his tissue, he continued to say over and over again, "I'm praying for ya. I'm praying for ya." The entire time, Laura and I held tight to each other. It's unclear whether our embrace was one of comfort or restraint, but the old man finally retreated back to his own sofa unscathed. That was my Christian act for the day.

The nice thing about the creepy old man is he quickly became the worst part of our day and if that's the toughest thing we have to endure today, everything is going to be okay.

Baby's first smartphone

I got our four-year-old his own smartphone. He can't read and he rarely can stay on a call for more than five minutes at a time, but I don't regret the decision at all. Last week, Ian asked for my phone so he could take a picture. He's been asking for my phone more and more, but for photos not games. This was the picture he took.

Not bad for his first photo. The best part is he understands how not to block the lens. He knows how to unlock my phone, navigate to Instagram, frame the shot he wants, and press the shutter button while keeping the phone steady. I just have to make sure he is aware of traffic in the parking lot while he's composing his masterpiece.

The next day, I asked Marilee if there were any old phones lying around the office I could buy or if I'd have to try eBay. Work didn't have any spares, but she had an old iPhone 4S she wasn't using for music anymore. She offered to bring it in the next day. Angela happened to have an old Otterbox case and we were in business!

I was going to leave the cellular plan disabled, figuring Ian could play games, take pictures, and use it wherever there was wifi. But even taking it with me to my lunch meeting, I got annoyed that I couldn't download a new app I thought of until I got back to the office. On the way home from work, I started to wonder how much it would cost at the Verizon store to activate the cellular.

30 minutes later, my four-year-old had a phone number and a data plan.

I felt a little guilty at first. Maybe he would have been okay with just the wifi aspects. But have you ever tried to explain to someone under the age of 6 the difference in wifi and cellular? Is it only in people's houses? All houses? All stores? Some schools? At hotels but probably not worth it because it's unusably slow?

I told the Verizon associate I was activating this phone for our son. She had several questions about how much data he would be using and I wasn't sure how to answer. Once we'd picked a plan and she was setting it up, she asked how old he was. I sheepishly told her that he was only four and she assured me that I was not a horrible mother for getting him a phone. Mind you, she does sell phones for a living so she's a little biased, but I did feel a bit better.

I had told Ian the night before that I would have a phone for him after work once I got it from Marilee. When I picked up Ian from Jenna's he had forgotten about the phone in all the excitement over playing in the pool. But when I showed him his phone and told him he could make calls whenever he wanted, he was delighted. I told him he could take photos all his own. He may have squealed.

That evening he told me, "Mommy, I need to make sure I have shorts with pockets so I can carry my phone around." We lounged in the bed that night watching Tinkerbell while I held his phone for him. After a bit, he said seriously, "Don't forget, Mommy, that's my phone." And when the movie was over, he yawned and rolled over for bed but then sat straight up and exclaimed, "I need to charge my phone while I'm sleeping!"

I showed him where all the 30-pin chargers are in the house so he knows how to recharge it (the line on the charging cable goes face up). I showed him how to get to the phone icon, choose the favorites star, and click on my picture to call me. I showed him how to tell if the phone was on wifi or not with the little icon. He's learning how to count to 100 and understand that 87 is larger than 32 versus just two big numbers, so he can decipher his battery life. He's worried that he can't message me since he can't type yet, but we're working on that. I expect a steep learning curve over the next few months.

He woke up the next morning and checked the phone's battery life first thing, but then was happy to leave it while he got dressed and ready for breakfast. We took it with us to Panera and did a practice call across the table to test it out. He was very pleased. I asked if he wanted to look for new shoes at Wal-mart and he was pretty excited. He took his phone with him in his shorts and I feared the elastic waistband may fail under the weight.

We headed to the shoe department and he found several he liked. All of a sudden, while sitting in the floor about to try on Lightning McQueen shoes, he blurted out, "Woah! I gotta take a picture of these!" He then dug out his phone, opened the camera app and took several pictures of the shoes before trying them on and deciding to get them. It was my turn to be delighted.

We looked for a few more essentials while there, and when we passed the dairy aisle, Ian had to stop and take a photo of the cottage cheese.

I don't know where he gets it from.

Soon it was time for him to go on his adventure with Sara and her boys while I drove back down to Winston-Salem for Rich's surgery. Ian kept telling me he was going to miss me, but I told him he could call me on his phone whenever he wanted and that seemed to please him. I hadn't been in the hospital an hour before Ian had called me. It was approximately a one minute phone call, but Ian called just to tell me, "Mommy! I'm calling you from my very own phone!"

My parents don't have smart phones. The last time I was in North Carolina with Rich while Ian was home with them, I learned it's very hard when all three people want to talk to me at once. So Ian is feeling very in control just knowing he has a phone that is his own personal connection to me whenever he wants. He didn't call me this morning before he went on his adventure with Stephanie. But he has several photos and videos waiting for him on his phone when he gets home.

Under other circumstances, I don't think I would have bought him a phone. But when both his parents are in another state for two weeks while his dad has major cancer surgery, it seems completely reasonable to me. I would have bought him a helicopter if I thought it would make any of this easier on us.

So far his weekend has been pretty great. And I was able to forward the videos on to his phone so he could watch them again whenever he wants.