Things have been aa bit hectic around here these past couple weeks. Two weeks ago, I finally got a surgery date. Tomorrow April 25th. So have been busy getting stuff caught up that I had been putting off. Like taxes and correspondence. Blogging kind of took a back seat. I read blogs posted to Facebook because I can do that late at night when I cant sleep.
We are also moving apartments on April 28th. After giving notice March 31 we had to find a place and then start packing, change addresses, arrange for electric service to be stopped and started and internet service as well. Lots of paper work, now done on the internet but still takes time. Since I can't lift anything heavier than 12 pounds, I won't be missed during the move anyhow.
Pre-Op was last week. Essentially a nurse asked me a large number of questions and the anesthesiologist sized me up as to how much ether to put me under. I had to laugh. The nurse came in and said "My name is ___ and I'll be your nurse today". I asked if she ever waited tables with an opening line like that. She had, briefly, and decided nursing was more her style.
One of the things the nurse asked me to do was make a living will. This is always a good thing to have so people know what you want if things go south. Since I am having three surgeries before they finish with me, they will keep it on file.
Tomorrow the surgeon will remove the section of gut that has tried to kill me twice already so there is no third time and out. Diverticular disease means my cast iron innards have finally started rusting through. Then in a couple months he will reverse the ostomy, reconnecting my top and bottom. THIS is what I am waiting for. To get rid of the damn ostomy pouch that has controlled my life for the past many months. For those who have never seen an ostomy, I should illustrate this with photos. Put you off your food for a while. Then when I am all healed up and fully functional, my doctor will attempt to repair my incision hernia which runs from stem to gudgeon, a reminder of my July surgery in Ukraine. That is a difficult job and when it happens no idea but as long as I am rid of the stoma, I don't care how long it takes.
The living will is fairly simple and if you haven't done one you really should. I put on paper who speaks for me if I a cannot. Since I am too healthy for a DNR (do not resuscitate), they should keep trying to keep me alive until it doesn't make sense and then if there are any spare parts they can salvage, go ahead. Not sure about useful spare parts, as if I were a vehicle, I'd have jacked up the radiator cap and run a new car under it long ago. I talked this all over with my wife and oldest daughter so we are all on the same page more or less, i.e .no violent disagreements.
My son says I better not die on the operating table and cheat the gallows. However, on the subject of funerals, I want to be cremated as it is cheap. Black garbage bags in a dumpster is cheaper but tends to be frowned upon by the authorities. Since I live in two countries and love both, the suggestion was made that half the cremains go to Ukraine and half to the little family plot near where i grew up, where my parents, grandparents and great grandparents are buried.
That way my kids can put on my stone, "Here lies our half-ashed father".
I can wait.
We are also moving apartments on April 28th. After giving notice March 31 we had to find a place and then start packing, change addresses, arrange for electric service to be stopped and started and internet service as well. Lots of paper work, now done on the internet but still takes time. Since I can't lift anything heavier than 12 pounds, I won't be missed during the move anyhow.
Pre-Op was last week. Essentially a nurse asked me a large number of questions and the anesthesiologist sized me up as to how much ether to put me under. I had to laugh. The nurse came in and said "My name is ___ and I'll be your nurse today". I asked if she ever waited tables with an opening line like that. She had, briefly, and decided nursing was more her style.
One of the things the nurse asked me to do was make a living will. This is always a good thing to have so people know what you want if things go south. Since I am having three surgeries before they finish with me, they will keep it on file.
Tomorrow the surgeon will remove the section of gut that has tried to kill me twice already so there is no third time and out. Diverticular disease means my cast iron innards have finally started rusting through. Then in a couple months he will reverse the ostomy, reconnecting my top and bottom. THIS is what I am waiting for. To get rid of the damn ostomy pouch that has controlled my life for the past many months. For those who have never seen an ostomy, I should illustrate this with photos. Put you off your food for a while. Then when I am all healed up and fully functional, my doctor will attempt to repair my incision hernia which runs from stem to gudgeon, a reminder of my July surgery in Ukraine. That is a difficult job and when it happens no idea but as long as I am rid of the stoma, I don't care how long it takes.
The living will is fairly simple and if you haven't done one you really should. I put on paper who speaks for me if I a cannot. Since I am too healthy for a DNR (do not resuscitate), they should keep trying to keep me alive until it doesn't make sense and then if there are any spare parts they can salvage, go ahead. Not sure about useful spare parts, as if I were a vehicle, I'd have jacked up the radiator cap and run a new car under it long ago. I talked this all over with my wife and oldest daughter so we are all on the same page more or less, i.e .no violent disagreements.
My son says I better not die on the operating table and cheat the gallows. However, on the subject of funerals, I want to be cremated as it is cheap. Black garbage bags in a dumpster is cheaper but tends to be frowned upon by the authorities. Since I live in two countries and love both, the suggestion was made that half the cremains go to Ukraine and half to the little family plot near where i grew up, where my parents, grandparents and great grandparents are buried.
That way my kids can put on my stone, "Here lies our half-ashed father".
I can wait.