Hello again!A week and a half after the surgery, I'm hale enough to resume the blog. All went exceedingly well with the surgery, which took 7 hours (7:30 - 2:30). I had to wait in recovery for 4 hours while they got my room ready, largely because I did better than expected. They had booked me into the ICU right after surgery, thinking that if they needed to do nerve transplants or skin grafts I'd need closer attention, but I didn't need either. My oncologist said the tumor was about the size of a Nerf football, but it came out fairly easily. Apparently the radical resection (pedicle flap) fit perfectly into the space left from the tumor removal. Per my "plastics" (the term for the plastic and reconstructive surgeons), all looks really good. They've got me in a cast and don't want me to do anything with the transferred muscle for 2 weeks.But I am remiss! My brother took some shots both pre- and post-op, that I'd like to share. None of the gruesome shots with blood and sutures, though I have them. More of the little things that document the process of overcoming and healing.
The fabled "Big Arm", on the last night of its existence 
Post-op with morphine pump - notice the smile!
Day 2 post-op having lunch sitting in chair - still "wired in"
Day 2 post-op, back from a stroll with Mom - nice booties & hose, eh?I reached my room and was placed on my right side, the same position I'd been in for the surgery and in the recovery room for 11 straight hours. As you might have guessed, the TV was over my left shoulder, so I didn't watch any TV from bed. Besides my morphine pump I had IV antibiotics and Ringer's solution, and I had 3 drainage tubes, 2 in my back and one in my arm, courtesy of the surgery. They'd made me don support hose pre-op to ward off blood clots, plus the booties so that I didn't slip. Then they placed air-driven cuffs around my calves, to massage them and keep blood clots from forming. I was also catheterized, so going to the bathroom was "automatic". All in all, it had been a very good day.I must say that my family's and friends support during the hospital stay was extraordinary. I never lacked for company and companionship and encouragement during the four days I was there. They are an incredible source of inspiration and gratitude for me, and I thank them with all my heart for their unwavering outpouring of love and care. Also, the nursing and clinical assistant staff at the Weinberg Center were spectacular, combining competence and caring with an attitude of really wanting to get to know me as a person while I was under their care. They have left me with a strong impression of just how much difference an uplifting demeanor can facilitate recovery.
I title this entry "Commencement" because of something I remember from my high school graduation some 35 years ago, when a speaker said that although we call the end of a segment of our schooling commencement, the word itself denotes a beginning, not an ending. It seemed appropriate to me as I think of my last few days living with the "big arm" - using it in ways I'm not likely to be able to after surgery, thinking about how I haven't had my left arm flush against my side in 6 months, wondering how life as I've known it for 52 years will shortly change - that this is precisely the case here and now. A part of my life is ending; another part of my life is just beginning. This is simply the journey I've been given. It's neither bad nor good, just what is. My journey. In some ways it's pretty exciting, because everything I'll face will be absolutely new. It's a chance to learn so much more about myself as a person, and a chance to grow. Perhaps it's not the way I would have chosen to do it, but it is the way I have been given to pursue. And so I will, with eyes wide open and a willingness to make the most of it. The unknowns will be knowns quite shortly. And, really, the only way out of what I'm about to go into is to go through it and come out the other end.
I'm coming into the last few days before the actual surgery happens. The radiation burn on the arm has largely healed - just a little rough skin, most of which will be gone after the operation Tuesday.
I spent Wednesday the 11th getting a final MRI, pre-op physical, and meeting with my surgeon, Dr. Weber. Pretty much what I expected, although it was a long day. I'm told my left arm will never be as strong as it once was, but it will be functional. The only dicey part may be that a nerve that lifts my wrist back may or may not be overrun by the tumor. They won't know until they open me up, but if it is compromised, then they'll have to remove it and do a nerve transplant. In that case, they would take a nerve from near my ankle and transplant it into my arm to replace the one sacrificed to remove the tumor. The downside is that the recovery time for that would be around 1 year. Still, the nerves that allow me to make a fist will be intact, and a year isn't too long if I get to keep a functioning arm. Dr. Weber assures me that I'll still be able to do photography.
Per Dr. Weber, I'll probably be in surgery for about 6-7 hours, then to the ICU for recovery. After that, I'll have a private room in the Weinberg Center at Hopkins, where I'll be for up to a week. It could be less, depending on complications (or a lack thereof). Then I'll be at my Mom's recuperating for a week more. By then, as my reconstructive surgeon, Dr. Singh, says, I should be feeling like a human being again and I should be well along to recovering from the surgical procedures. I'm looking forward to finishing the final Harry Potter book during that time.
Until next Tuesday, I'm getting the house and bills in order, arranging for cat care and the like, and enjoying the last few days before surgery by doing things like mowing grass and having dinners with friends. I'll continue blogging after the surgery as I'm able and as I have access to the Net. On to the next part of the adventure!
