A very long day

** Disclaimer - Paola's in surgery now. I have no news to report; the following is just a recounting of the morning's events. I'll update the blog as soon as I have news. Allie **


The alarm clocks went off at 4:20 AM. We both turned off our alarm clocks; however, it quickly became apparent that Paola had gone back to sleep. I was reluctant to wake her -- after all, today didn't promise to be fun -- but we had to be at the hospital at 5:30 AM. Attempting to wake her gently, I stood in her doorway and called her name repeatedly, but my attempts were useless. In fact, as if to drown me out, Paola began snoring loudly. I had to shake her awake. As she stared at me sleepily, I reminded her that we needed to go to the hospital and she couldn't drink anything.

Yesterday, Paola's breast was injected with a radioactive dye that allowed the technician to take images of her nearby lymph nodes. Bearing these images, her medical proxy forms and lots of other random stuff, we headed out the door at 5:00 AM. I drove, and Paola navigated while simultaneously talking on the phone with her family, then Google folk in Dublin, and then some office that officially placed her on disability. We got to the hospital a few minutes before 5:30. Unable to find the parking lot where we'd been instructed to park, we raced around campus, parking in a different garage. We got to where we were supposed to be only a few minutes late. Paola checked in and then took another call while I passed the time with the only magazine in sight - Ladies' Home Journal. The cover story sang the praises of plaid wool.

After a short wait, a nurse called Paola's name, and she took Paola away. A few minutes later, she got me and took me to Paola. Paola was reclining on a hospital gurney dressed in the normal (inadequate) hospital gown, but she had on little socks to keep her feet warm, and the nurses tucked blankets around her. A whir of medical personnel came and went, asking questions, the most common of which was if she had any allergies.

An anesthesiology resident introduced himself to us and set about asking even more questions, including, yes, if Paola had any allergies. A nurse stopped by, asked which breast was being operated upon, and upon hearing "both" wrote in marker on each of Paola's breasts the word "Yes." Around this point, Paola's friend Michele, who works at Stanford, showed up. The anesthesiology resident started an IV in Paola's left arm. She didn't enjoy this experience at all, especially given the size of the needle.

Paola's cubicle quickly filled to capacity with me, Michele, the anesthesiology resident, a plastic surgery resident, a general medicine resident, and two other individuals, who I think were chief residents. These last two were women, which pleased Paola, who was very happy that there would be females with her in the operating room.

In the midst of this, Paola's plastic surgeon showed up. Some of the people stepped out the cubicle, and Paola disrobed. The surgeon took some photos of her breasts. (Michele said this was for the before and after pictures.) Then, it was the surgeon's turn to write on Paola. The material that will make up Paola's reconstructed breasts is coming from her abdomen, so he spent a while there. First, he made a dot on either end of her pelvis, near the hipbones. Then, he drew a curving lines from one dot to the other, under her tummy. As a result, Paola had a smile across her body. Then, he drew a straighter line connecting the dots, turning the smile into an open mouth. At this point, his artistic renderings became far more abstract - vertical lines, horizontal lines, etc. Paola knew what I was thinking and teased me about not being able to take a photo and post it to this blog. (She said that I could "paint the picture with words," and that's what I'm attempting to do.)

Once the surgeon was through (and had photographed his handiwork), I put Paola's gown back on her, we hugged, and she got on the gurney. I took a photo, which I'll post, once I figure out how to do so. The anesthesiology resident gave Paola some drug - my guess was an anti-anxiety something or another. Paola stated that she wasn't scared and expressed surprise at how calm she felt. And that was it! Paola and her entourage headed down the hall toward the operating room.

After Paola's departure, Michele kindly guided me to the cafeteria and gave me a quick tour of the hospital before returning me to the waiting room. Around 8:30 I approached the desk and asked the nurse when she thought I might hear from Paola's cancer surgeon. (The surgery is being performed in two parts - the removal, then, following a break, the reconstruction.) As of that time, the surgery had not yet begun. She estimated that the surgeon might be ready to speak with me around 12:30 PM. It's only 10:20 AM now but my laptop battery is low so I'll end this post and go back to the waiting room. I'll write again once I have something to report.