Just heard from the friend who had prostate cancer surgery. FINALLY! He sounded happy and on the mend. But little of his treatment has gone according to plan …
His "minor" surgery was scheduled for Friday, 4/18. He was supposed to be home sometime Saturday. The procedure itself was, in his doctor's words, "text book perfect." However, there was a problem with the anesthesia and his intestines shut down. Or, to be more precise, "didn't wake up" from the anesthesia.
So he's been in the hospital for more than a week, going through all kinds of painful and embarrassing procedures (which he detailed for me but, don't worry, I won't recount) and subsisting on IV fluids. His predominant look for spring so far has been a catheter, a tube in his nose and another in his arm.
I've been worried sick about him, afraid that the cancer had spread. Oh well, at least it wasn't THAT! And, now that he can keep food down and is able to walk a bit, he should be going home tomorrow.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
That's a bit scary, but at least he's on the mend now.
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