Now I must wait another week or so before my 6 - 10 hour performance on the operating room table. My life will then be permanently and profoundly changed for the better or the worse.
By Richard Taylor
Everyone of my internal organs seemed embarrassed, except for my brain.
No one claimed responsibility, not even my stomach.
Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. You can chose which is the case in this instance!
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As you all already probably know you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, nor can you construct a new esophagus out of the top of a full stomach (unless of course you are prepared to clean up a really bad internal mess.).
So now I must wait another week or so before my 6 - 10 hour performance on the operating room table, sharing the limelight with The Da Vinci robut will occur. We are planning on one take.
My life will then be permanently and profoundly changed for the better or the worse a week or so from now.
As I opened my ereys in the recovery room and immediately fighted out I wasn't dead, simply awaking in the recovery room of The Methodist Hospital I was filled with momentary relief.
I had made it, and with all my wits seemingly in tack. As it was explained to me that I was "under" for 30 minutes not 360-600 minutes I was not quite so happy.
I could report I am full of self confidence, strength, and a positive sense of the future, but my fabled courage/strength (which was never there in the first place as far as I'm concerned, but it felt good for others to tell that) has been temporarily over come with fears that I may never wake up from this 10 hour operation or when I do I won't know who I am or where I am or what's going on around me.
My hope/plan is to regain the ability to write a monthly newsletter and one lone long journal article starting in May or June. I'm just not sure of the speaking. I'll have to see what happens to my "public" exposed symptoms, and if I get any more invites.
I have plenty of work to do in my garden, my dear Grand children and family still seem to want to spend time with me, and even though I can't remember the news from one day to the other, I still enjoy watching it.
My attempts to get someone(s) in the medical community to address my fears, the research into delirium and dementia I have completed, the new ideas, aids, techniques, types of anesthesia, supporting mediation - all of which seek to lessen the impact of anesthesia on someone already living have fallen of well intended but ignorant ears.
The current trend to hire gas for hire anesthesiologists has produced totally uncoordinated staff, staffing, procedures, and interest in the impact on their gasses and drips on people living with the symptoms of dementia.
Most depend on after the fact identification of delirium by nurses in critical care units. The fact are they are usually assigned early in the morning by a spin of the wheel assures there are no real considered consults between patients and their gas passers. Couple this with the fact the actual MD is serving five or six OR patients at the SAME TIME through the reports of a non MD and you can see why I fear the process as much as I fear the cancer and its possible return.
The on-going fact that I have left more than a few friends off this note and I have repeated some people - despite my best proof reading efforts at 3:30 AM the morning after my surgery is sign evidence of what has happened to my dementia symptoms.
I'll write you all when I pull myself together enough to respond - provided of course of course I know who I am am, who you are and what happened.
Thank you again for being my friends. Keep it up - and so will I.
Note: We received this email at 4:31 AM today.
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