Tracheobronchoplasty

On Thursday, September 7, 2016, I underwent a tracheobronchoplasty to repair my collapsed trachea and bronchial tubes. My mom, dad, and sister arrived on the Tuesday before my surgery. It was so good to have them here with me. Sometimes it's hard to be so far away from them. I guess if I didn't like them so much it wouldn't be that hard to be away from them! :) I had a scrumptious, if I do say so myself, dinner waiting on them. I made shrimp and crawfish ettouffee, salad, and as I promised my dad, a bubbling hot blackberry (and a few blueberries) cobbler. We had a really lovely evening together laughing, sharing memories, and our aspirations for the future. On Wednesday we didn't do too much, just hung out and got ready for the big remodel.

I think we were all a bit nervous and tried to stay busy so as not to think about it too much. Every time I looked up from my phone or computer, I saw mom, dad, and my sister on their phone or computer. It was a screen time kind of day for sure. If we buried our noses in our electronics then we didn't have to think too much about what was about to happen to me and all of the things that could possibly go wrong. It's probably not the healthiest way to deal with our emotions, but it worked that day! By the way, This continued throughout my entire hospital stay - and I have a picture to prove it!

Thursday was a very long day! My surgery was originally scheduled for 1:00 pm, but my surgeon had to move up the surgery scheduled after mine in order to get his patient's biopsy to the pathology lab before it closed. My surgery was now scheduled for 3:00 pm, which concerned me because Dr. Meguide had two surgeries before mine and I knew my procedure was rather long and delicate. I my mind I knew he wouldn't have pushed my surgery back so late if he wasn't confident he could perform it to the best of his abilities. More on that in a bit!

We reported to the hospital right on time at 1:00 pm to get the pre-op work done. You would think those two hours before a major surgery would drag by, but they didn't. It's pretty much non-stop once they call you back to the pre-op area. Change into your gown, take your vitals, take blood, answer and hundred questions, answer more questions including your name/birthdate/what procedure you're having done, talk to the anesthesiologists, visit with the family, so on and so forth. I was also informed that the procedure in the operating room where my procedure was to take place was running long and my surgery was delayed, and delayed, and delayed. I was thinking that Dr. Meguide was the one doing that surgery and became more anxious about how tired he was going to be going into my surgery.

But it wasn't him in that OR! He popped around the corner with a smile on his face, looking very rested. A huge weight lifted off of my shoulders as soon as I saw him. He came into my little room, said hello, and shook everyone's hand. I asked him if he was relaxed and in good shape for my surgery. He laughed and said absolutely. He had rested, had lunch, and his hands were steady. He then informed us that the OR was being cleaned and we should be good to go soon.

Right after he left the room the anesthesia team came in to give me an injection of the happy meds to help "relax" me before wheeling me back to the OR. It was close to 4:00pm by that time. The last thing I remember was telling my mom not to cry - this was a good thing and I was going to be fine. And then lights out. It really is totally mind boggling how much time can pass while you are knocked out cold, oblivious to the entire world and what's happening to your body. I always find that part of any surgery I've had to be completely disconcerting.

Some five hours or so later I definitely remember waking up. I gasped for air and the first words out of my mouth as I tried to raise up were, "Oww, it hurts!" I opened my eyes, the people surrounding my bed, trying to push me back down so I wouldn't hurt myself or pull out any of the tubes sticking out of me, were all blurry. I just kept repeating, "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts." The doctors and nurses in the ICU unit were telling me to breathe, to try to relax, and showed me where they pain med button was. They told me to I could push the button every nine minutes and to push it as much as I needed to. The world seemed to be crashing in on me all at once in a haze of pain. I remember looking over and my sister and my nephew were standing over me saying something soothing. My mom and dad were in the background. I think it was around 9:15 or 9:30 by this time.

Soon all of the medical staff left the room and I could here my family mumbling in the background. At some point after I was taken back to the OR my nephew arrived at the hospital and I remember him telling me he loved me after I woke up. I don't know what they were saying as I was trying to hit that magic pain button to make the horrific pain enveloping my right side and searing down my airways every time I tried to take a breath. Deep breaths were were impossible at that time. One by one everyone, but my mom, told me good-bye and to try to get some rest as they left to go to their hotel room across the street from the hospital. I don't think I slept at all that night; it hurt to badly. That little magic pain button was my best friend that night and even that wasn't taking the pain away. I was miserable. I was as prepared as I could be for the pain, but I don't think anyone can be fully prepared for pain as intense as that.

Sometime around 6:00 or 7:00 the medical staff started making their rounds. The pain management team came in to check me over and make sure I was tolerating the pain. I was tolerating it, just wasn't real comfortable with it. The main doctor, I don't think I ever got his name, told me that he felt for me because anything dealing with a rib removal was hands down the most painful procedure someone could go through. Yay me for finding the single most painful procedure someone could go through! As my family trickled in, so too did more teams of doctors and their residents. I don't know how long this bombardment continued, but everyone kept telling me I was doing great and empathizing with me for the pain I was in. None of them offered to actually share my pain with me, though!

With the help of a nurse, I think, I did eventually figure out how to place the pillows around/under me to ease the pressure from the incision site. This is pretty tricky when you have a lovely 10" cut wrapping from just under your breast to about halfway across your back. That's gonna be one fantastic looking scar for sure! I'll need to make up a great story about how I got it. . . Back to the pillows. I had five or six pillows tucked all around me the entire week I was in the hospital. (That number grew to about eight pillow when I went home!) I had pillows tucked under my side, a pillow to hold prop up my arm because it hurt to lay it all the way down on the bed or to lift it too far above my head. Even though the bed was tilted up to about a 45 degree angle, I was not allowed to lie flat, I had three to four pillow propping/holding up my head. My bed was a pillow haven! :)

At some point the doctors started talking about moving me from the ICU to my own room on the pulmonary floor. I cannot say with 100% certainty that Dr. Meguide came in to check that day, but I'm fairly sure he did. Eventually I did get moved to my own room. I don't remember the bedride over to my room; just remember being there. Tubes and wires galore attached me. I had three IVs, and epidural, those 4 drainage tubes, oxygen, and monitoring wires attached everywhere. I seriously could not even get out of bed to just stand up without the assistance of the nursing staff. Fun times. . .

So, I think you get the picture. The surgery was a success and the first 24 hours were a pain-filled blur. My next post will take a peak at the rest of my hospital visit and some of the things I've learned about pain management and letting your body rest to heal. As always, thank you for taking the time to read my post. Wishing you enough grace to get through anything that's being thrown at you in your day.