Pain Is Your Friend

Anyone who has ever said that is an idiot. Really. I don't mean crazy in the head. I mean downright, inconceivably stupid.

Just as the pain from the most recent chemo treatment is working its way out (it peaks around 10-14 days), she underwent surgery yesterday. I flew up to Salt Lake to be with her.

From 8 am until about 10:30, when they took her back, we went through the endless repetitive question and answer session as each doctor and nurse who was involved came in. If you have not had this experience of which I speak, you are a very lucky soul who has never had a surgical procedure.

The procedure was done at the Huntsman Cancer Institute - which is just across the street from Primary Children's Hospital. This facility is extremely nice. It is very obvious there is a LOT of money flowing in for donations here. You can see how my accountant mind works, eh?

Well, Nicki and I waited in the waiting room, where people wait. Less than 90 minutes later, the surgeon came to see us to tell us that everything had gone perfectly. He was extremely happy with how the procedure went and she would be assigned the in-patient room soon and we could wait for her up there.

Once we received the room number, we headed up.

It is at this point that I would like to say these rooms are better than many hotels we have stayed at. First, we were greeted by this lobby to our room and one other:

The open space you see on the right foreground is the family suite part of the room:

This picture doesn't do it justice, but you can probably get the idea just from knowing it is there. There is a TV and a refrigerator and microwave off to the right. This is great for being able to have family stay together. Probably is not intended for a full family of all eight of us (although, I must admit we have had our entire family in hotel rooms smaller than this). But for a parent, or spouse, or whatever, I'm sure is the intent.

Not that Nicki is actually sleeping in here. She has to be in the same room as Matti, or she is not comfortable. She has been sleeping on that couch under the window on the left. Where she will be tonight, also.

Now, Matti had told the team in the recovery area that she was doing okay with the pain. But, she was either too groggy to know, or unwilling to share how she was truly feeling. Because when she saw us, she broke down in tears. It was like she could stop being strong.

She was in pain.

All that had been prescribed was the exact same medicine and dosages she has been taking every day through chemo. How is that going to help manage a trauma to your body, like having stuff removed from it, when you are already used to a certain level of pain medication.

It took several hours, changing medication and dosages, and the Pain Management Team administering a nerve block before it started to be manageable. She would have moments in between, though, if she could keep herself calm for just a few seconds that she would drift to sleep for short periods. Yes, she would wake up to and because of the pain, but if we could talk her through it long enough, she would drift off again - between the anesthesia remaining in her and the trauma her body sustained.

Here's what she looked like when we could get her to sleep again, my sweet baby girl:

The blanket is courtesy of her cousin.

She's been doing okay in the 2 days since. The doctors are letting her stay one more night, but she is most likely getting released on Friday. Then she waits up there until she is cleared to continue her chemotherapy.

More waiting. Ahhhh.

Just for fun, I thought I would add this picture from the room next to hers: