Jen and I spent all day Thursday at Johns Hopkins, bouncing from one appointment to another. First up was labwork at 9AM to see where my counts are. A giant, gentle nurse named Brandon accessed my port, took blood, and left the needle in because, surprise! a CT scan with contrast showed up on the schedule that morning. Next up was a consult with my surgeon, who is a lovely, funny man with a firm handshake. We got the briefing on how surgery would go, what to expect before during and after, and had a bunch of questions answered. Next we met with an ostomy specialist, who showed me a small bag that will most likely be my companion for a couple of months while I heal up from the procedure. While we were talking with that nurse, one of the attending surgeons popped his head back in and said they’d looked again at the 2014 CT scan and estimate that Lil’ Lumpy was about 10cm large at that point.

From there we went to another building to have the new CT scan done. I’m kind of a pro at CT scans these days, and this one was by far the fastest and most efficient one I’ve ever done. They had me in and out in about 20 minutes, and I got to do it in a donut that was decorated with all kinds of coral and tropical fish. Apparently the machine is shared with the pediatric cancer wing, so it’s the most cheerful CT machine in the hospital. I support the idea of decorating giant sterile beige machines with clownfish and eels. It makes the hot peeing-your-pants sensation of IV contrast a little more palatable.

We had 45 minutes for lunch before the next appointment, so we hustled to the fancy cafe and downed some food. Then we walked back over to talk with a doctor for the pre-op meeting, where she reviewed my whole medical history, talked about the medications I’ve been on, and reviewed the functional details of the surgery.

Finally, we talked with my chemo doctor, who reviewed my progress and quizzed me on how I’ve been through the second round. I should plug the entire staff of Johns Hopkins here because to a person they’ve all been helpful, patient, understanding and very generous with their time and knowledge. I picked the right team of people.

By the time we were done it was 4:30 and my brain was mush, so we hopped in the car and headed home. Parked out in front of the house was Mario with his brother, who came in and hung three sheets of drywall, adjusted the closet opening, and generally made some progress. Friends, three sheets of drywall can make a HUGE difference in your daily outlook.

Date posted: December 1, 2017 | Filed under bathroom, cancer, house | Leave a Comment »

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