Un-effing believable . . .

I wouldn't have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes this morning. The wound on Bob's backside is like a cannon ball blast, a gaping cavern bigger than both my fists put together. I had an idea, from seeing the clean-up job the fellow surgeon had done on Saturday, but was not quite prepared for the real deal . . . Doc Writes-on-her-Pants and a wound nurse came in this a.m. to repack the dressing, something that will be done daily, for as long as it needs to be done, till they say "the word." I asked to stay and watch, if it was okay. I have this need, to see, feel, experience and learn as much as I'm able, to give myself a fraction of knowledge of what Bob is experiencing, though I know that even in seeing this, it really won't bring me any closer to knowing . . . but, I do want to see first hand, to appreciate fully, the healing. Before my eyes, from start to finish.

The wound nurse said that would be wonderful if I wanted to stay, as it'll be a great learning experience, should I be doing some of the dressing changes down the road ("Don't worry, not tomorrow!" she assured me). She also directed that at the first sign of feeling woozy, light-headed or anything out of the ordinary, to sit down immediately. She and Doc WOHP shared a few stories of getting the hebegebe's over wounds they had seen or worked on . . . "Happens to the best of us," the nurse said. "Don't play hero, just sit down. We don't need two patients on our hands!"

With that, they gently turned Bob over onto his side and pulled the top layer of tape and bandage off. They soaked the wound, bandages and all, with lidocaine, "marinating the wound site," as Doc WOHP put it, to numb the entire area before they began pulling out the dressing. Once they started pulling old, soaked dressing, I wondered if it would ever stop—it kept coming and coming and coming . . . to my surprise, I couldn't pull my eyes away from the site in front of me. Car crash syndrome, I don't know . . . no, it wasn't that. I wasn't horrified, wasn't shocked, just utterly amazed. No, that's not the right word, either. What it did was put the tumor, its size, its impact and the incredibly complicated, intricate nature of the surgery more in perspective. Gives me a better understanding, clarity, even, of how so many things can go wrong with such a procedure, the predicament, as a whole . . . yes, so much of what has happened to Bob, in hind site, might have been prevented, but given the scope of it all, just in seeing this wound and all it encompasses, tells me that there may have been no other way, no other outcome except complications . . .

Eventually, the last of the dressing was removed, and both Doc WOHP and the wound nurse bent down to peer inside. They pointed out various parts of Bob's anatomy that were clearly visible within the cavern; nerves, muscles, bone, organs . . . "everything looks great, just great, doesn't it," they said to each other, "look over here, great blood flow, it all looks moist and healthy, not too much blood. . . already showing signs of healing . . ." Just a day in the life, for them. An out of body experience for me . . .

The wound was flushed out with a saline solution and then repacked. . . Bob seemed to tolerate the procedure very well, very little discomfort, save for a few jolts and jumps if a nerve was touched, or if the lidocaine hadn't reached deep enough to a particular area. Eventually, after roll upon roll of dressing was gently but firmly packed into the opening, a final layer of dressing was laid over the top of the packing, and heavily taped. Bob appeared to be sleeping, so Doc WOHP decided just to leave him, and said to call for his nurse if he woke and wanted to be repositioned.

A few minutes after they left, I heard Bob asking, "Okay, what's going on? What do I need to be doing here?" Jeeze louise, always needs something to do, li'l busybody . . .even in illness, can't simply rest . . . I called his nurse in to help him to a more comfortable position. She told me Bob was given clearance for a full diet, no restrictions, as the bowel situation seems to have resolved itself. Yes, like majik. "Of course, don't go hog-wild," she advised, "Ease into it, with soup or something easy on the stomach." I looked at Bob and he was already sleeping again. Maybe later.