recovery

I woke up in the recovery room telling the doctor that I had to pee.

“We’ve inserted a catheter,” he told me. “that’s just pain you feel.”

Well, it felt like I had to pee. I felt pretty good almost immediately.

I can’t remember when I saw Mary. I know she was with me when I got to my room, but I have no idea if she was in recovery or not.

It was pretty typical.

They had me hooked up to all kinds of monitors. A blood pressure cuff blew up automatically about every 5 minutes and I had oxygen blowing up my nose.

My major first discomfort was a sore throat from the intubation.

When I got to my room I turned on the TV and learned that U.S. forces had entered the city of Kabul.

I grabbed the phone and called the office.

“Have you got this posted on the Web site?” I asked the person who answered the phone.

“Is this Graser? Aren’t you supposed to have surgery today?”

“I had surgery and I am in my room and watching TV and we just got troops inside Kabul. Have you got it posted on the Web site?”

“Are you nuts? Get off the phone and don’t worry about the Web site.”

Anyone that has ever had abdominal surgery will tell you that some of the worst pain comes from gas.

It was a solid five days before I had a decent bowel movement and until that time my belly was round with gas.

I couldn’t see much, but I had a row of staples that started from just below my navel and went almost as far as you could go.

There was a button sewed to my belly and a clear rubber bladder attached to a drain.

Of course there was a catheter coming out of my penis to a bag hanging on the side of my bed.

The nurses were wonderful. They gave me all the painkillers I wanted, flushed the catheter and emptied the bag.

Early in the first morning when one suggested I sit up on the edge of the bed, I thought she was nuts. But, I made it and later that day I was doing slow, shuffling walks, pushing my IV pole with a bag of fluid at the top and my catheter bag on the bottom.

I developed a fever in the hospital and ended up staying 4 full days.

I got home late Friday night.

I was really afraid of going home with the catheter. I was sure I would catch it on something and rip a hole in my bladder. But it turned into something routine. Of course, in the beginning Mary helped a lot and you can’t say enough about a wife that will empty your catheter bag for you.

Of course, getting out of the hospital takes forever. They had to remove the drain – you would not believe how long the rubber tubing was that was stuffed inside me. And all sorts of people had to get paperwork signed.

If you took me to that hospital today and asked me to find my room, I could not do it.

I have no idea what part of the building we were in. It seemed like the wheelchair ride was over a mile with three different elevators.

My mom and dad were there when I got home.. I missed dinner. But I did get a piece of cardboard lasagna at the hospital.

I hadn’t seen Lucy the entire time.My clearest earliest memory was that she was gaga over two books.”Brown Bear, Brown Bear,” which I sort of liked and “Man Gave Names to All the Animals,” which I hated with all my heart.She wanted me to read those two books over and over. I couldn’t refuse, even though one literally made me sick.When I could get out of bed, I used to hide the book and she would find it and bring it back.

Convalescence at home was really sort of nice.

More on that later.