Well, we’ve been “found out.”
Mary H. asked if were quite possible that we were the ones who removed the two remaining drains yesterday. And, as a matter of fact, we were.
I called the surgeon’s office yesterday morning to see if they were willing to let my local doctor do the removal to save a trip back to Greenville. They said they were. However, it seems the local doctor wasn’t comfortable doing it, because it was someone else’s medical case. (Lawsuit worries, I guess.)
So then I asked my surgeon’s nurse if it could be done outside of a medical office setting, like if an RN from our church came to the house to do it.
She said that would be fine.
And then I got to thinking about how the first two drains were removed on Monday and that all it involved was a little snip of a stitch and then a gentle tug, and about a foot of plastic tubing came out of the hole in the side of my body. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t bleed, it was no big deal.
(I started off with two drains on each side, as seen in the picture below. Can you understand why I would want them removed? )
And here again, is a picture from the Internet as to what the drains look like. Really fun stuff.
So anyway, while I was pondering whether or not I was “medically equipped” to remove the drains myself, I got to thinking about the period after Sarah’s transplant when I was put in sole charge of this array of medical equipment. If the oncologists and nurses at Duke would trust me with all of this, shouldn’t I also be considered competent enough to snip one stitch and one pull one drain?
I decided I was.
And so I got it into my desperate, female, feverish brain that I was sick (not to mention tired) of living with drains for two weeks and that as soon as Steve got home from picking up Sarah from school, he and I were going to snip and pull as a couple. (I mean, how do you think a strong marriage is forged without a few snipping/pulling adventures?)
When I told him my plan, he was a bit hesitant but I plainly informed him that if he didn’t help me, I was doing it myself. Because I’d. Had. It. And besides, it wasn’t brain surgery, after all. It was one snip and a pull.
And so we did it. He snipped. I pulled. And I must say that it is a very strange feeling to pull a foot of plastic tubing out of each side of ones’ person. Steve was not real keen on looking at the operation but I was so desperate, it really didn’t bother me.
And then presto! I was transformed from this . . .
into this!
Well, maybe not instantly, but it sure did make a world of difference to me, psychologically AND physically.
Some of you commented that you didn’t know I was not allowed to shower while the drains were in. That is true. For TWO weeks, I did not shower. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone for two weeks without showering, but let me just say that I will never again take showering for granted. There is nothing quite like the feel of standing under splashing, clean, clear water and feeling like a human being again.
Ahhhh . . .
So anyway, a big thanks to everyone who has rejoiced with me over my drainless state and also, the fabulous ability to shower that has come back into my life.
In my next update—good and bad Nathan news.
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