Fixed comment problem... I think

After monkeying with the comment settings, hopefully anyone can now comment without being stymied.  If you've been frustrated in trying to comment, please know that it's probably pilot error on my part and not your lack of technical expertise.

A lot of our friends assume I'm a "computer guy"... I'm actually a pencil and paper guy who's very happy to come up with ideas and delegate the übernerd work to folks who have dedicated countless hours to hone it into a skill.  My areas of expertise are design, marketing and advertising, not programming or coding.

If all else fails, please email me and I'll print out your wonderful messages so Peg can read them. 

Peg's more comfortable now...

...but still tired.  Zoë and I popped in for a few minutes as Chris was leaving and Candence was settling in with her miner's flashlight.  Peggy has a mild sedative on board so hopefully she'll sleep through the night.

Unless Peg says she's up for it, please hold off visiting or calling tomorrow-- thanks.

No visitors or phone calls for Peg today, please

Peg didn't sleep much last night, so what little napping she gets may extend into a longer snooze if she's left alone.  Karen just stopped by the house to let me know.

You all did so well summoning the Fart Fairy.  Now we need the Sandman.

Peg's tired but lookin' good

Her eyes are bright and clear, she's smiling, and for some odd reason her hair even looks good after four days in bed. She was only up for about a ten minute visit tonight.  Pretty tired.  

Dr. Elliott wanted to make sure the plumbing was working from stem to stern... so earlier today Peg had to drink a ginormous jug of glop so they could do another CT scan and check the location of said glop as it made the intestinal tour. It took her over an hour in small sips, but she kept it down.

She can make it to the can by herself, pushing her IV stand, and get in and out of bed on her own. Pretty amazing considering it's only been four days out from major surgery.  I can't help but think five years of belly dancing really strengthened her core and left her a lot better prepared for this experience (thanks, Gina!)

Uncomfortable night, hello jello

Just spoke with our friend Katie who popped in a few minutes ago and Sandy who's with Peg now, and got an email from Jeanette, Peg's sister.  Katie and Sandy say Peg's having a hard time this morning from lack of sleep and bowel discomfort, so she'll probably spend a lot of the day resting.  Hopefully it'll settle down enough to let her get some rest... Zoë and I will see her around 6:30 tonight.  

Jeanette says the good news is:

• That they removed the nasal tube

• That they removed the catheter

• That Peg can now sip liquids and take in small quantities of jello and broth

Things that Dr. Elliott is looking for before she can be discharged:

• Decreased white blood cell count

• Softening of her belly

For those of you who haven't been able to post comments,  email them to me and I'll print them out so Peg can read them in her room.    

...followed by the Fart Fairy

Peg called at 8:45 to report the... uhh... sweet smell of success! She described said fart as "mondo."

As any of you who have gone through surgery or followed a relative who has, this is a big milestone. Yay!

Thanks to all who summoned the Fairy and pulled its finger. Ya done good. Peg feels immeasurably better.

I kid you not, this came in the mail today

What can I say?

Awaiting flatulence and racing down the hallway

This update courtesy of Lesley, who spent the night and Phyllis, who's there now.  Peg's feeling well and was very alert when I spoke to her a few minutes ago.  

She's got some belly distention, probably from gas buildup, so her doctor ordered an x-ray earlier this morning.  Peg took a 15 minute walk down the hallway and said she challenged some guy also pushing his IV stand to a race, but he didn't take her up on it.  She's getting a sponge bath now and will probably conk out for a while.

Here's a brief summary from Lesley's notes from when Dr. Elliott made his rounds: he's started her on "gorilla-cillin" (super antibiotic) and continuing Flagyl as a preventative measure to make sure she's ahead of any infection.  They're giving her extra fluids to get her kidneys moving.  Peg has requested her self-administered pain med strength be decreased because she's in little pain and doesn't want to be so zonked when she hits the button.  Her NG tube (the one in her nose that she so skillfully avoids while brushing her teeth) will not be removed today.

Even though she hasn't passed gas (an indicator that her system is working again), her nurse did report bowel sounds, which means things are headed in the right direction.  So-- if anyone has an "in" with the fart fairies, please put in a request.  

Progress report, photos

Photos and update courtesy of our friend Phyllis, who spent the morning with Peg.  Phyllis says Peggy is tired but doing well.  Was able to sit up in a chair, brush her teeth (no small feat with tubes plugged into her nose) and have a sponge bath.  She was able to maintain being upright for about half an hour, then was totally pooped.  Medically, the one area they're working on is her blood pressure, which is a bit low.

When Zoë and I saw her around 12:30 she'd been napping, but woke up enough to say howdy.  Zoë brought her camera and showed Peg photos of the goodies she harvested from the veggie garden this morning.

It's 100 degrees today.  Taking Swimmer Girl to the lake in a bit, and I think I'll go in as well.  After dinner we'll head back to the "horse pistol," as Peg called it during her residency 22 years ago.

  

Spoke with Peg this morning by phone

She sounded good, said she wasn't in any pain. They're going to get her out of bed and into a chair a couple of times today to help get things moving. No liquids for now, but she can take small ice cubes just to keep her mouth comfortable.

Our friends Traci and Paul just dropped off a cornucopia of yummy food, including veggie burritos for Zoë and tri-tip for Meat Boy. Yay!

Zoë and I will see her in a bit and I'll report any news when we get back.

What the surgery revealed

I'll try to give a good overview of what Dr. Elliott discovered during the surgery while still respecting Peg's privacy. And by the way, if you google any of this you'll be bombarded with more incomprehensible minutiae than you can handle, most of which has nothing to do with Peg's individual case. Don't bother, it'll either make you angsty or cranky.

His initial prognosis (which will probably be confirmed tomorrow in lab tests) is epithelial ovarian cancer. This is good (what? cancer is good?) because it's a type of cancer that's very responsive to chemotherapy. Chemo= yummy rat poison; epithelial cancer= hungry rats.

Although the CT scan had shown spots on Peg's liver that could have been cancer nodules, Dr. Elliott found through physical examination they were normal spots that had nothing to do with cancer. There were cancer cells on her spleen which he was able to remove without removing the spleen. He removed 15cm of her transverse colon and reattached the ends (actually, they use staples. I kid you not).

He also found no cancer cells on or around her pancreas, which was a big relief. Peg's father, who died before I met her, had pancreatic cancer.

The metric for success in this type of "debulking" surgery, where the affected organs and surrounding tissue are removed, is that there is less than 1cm of cancerous material left intact. Dr. Elliott was literally ten times better than that-- there's less than 1mm, which chemotherapy is likely to gobble faster than I can go through a bag of Fritos. And believe me, I can hoover a bag of Fritos like you wouldn't believe (which is precisely why we don't keep them in our house).

So-- nothin' but sunshine from our corner of the world. I should probably stop saying this over and over because you know it already, but thank you all for your support for our family in whatever form it takes. Know that we are grateful for your just being present in our lives... everything else is gravy.

First night in the hospital

I'm losing track of how many ways we are blessed through all this... friends have volunteered to take shifts in Peg's room so she's never alone, 24/7.

I've just sat here for five minutes staring at the screen, just taking that one in. There are no words to adequately express how much that means to our family.

One of Peg's wonderful nurses scored a chair that converts into a bed, and she's got a private room. The staff is caring and attentive. She's in good hands, and in a good space.

Mercy San Juan hospital is an older hospital, and like us, a little worn around the edges. But it's got a good heart, a good soul and good people, and what it lacks in creature comforts it makes up for in the things that really count.

Peg's video message to you all

She recorded this just a few minutes before we left the house this morning. Kinda says it all.

Good news!

Just left the hospital, back at Starbucks.  Peg did great--the surgeon said it was very successful.  It was ovarian cancer, but very localized with nodes in her abdominal area but not her liver or other organs.

Surgery was about three and a half hours.  She's alert and in great spirits-- Karen is with her now and I'm on my way to pick up some swim stuff for Zoë at the house, grab a cheeseburger and pick her up.  Peg wants to see her for a few minutes tonight.

I'll add more details later tonight when I get home, but I wanted to get the word out as soon as I could.  Oh, and Peg's nurse tonight is Daphne... same name as my niece and the second one I've ever met.

Peg's in surgery, I'm at Starbucks

Peggy was in great spirits this morning.  We dropped Zoë at our friends' house, where she'll spend the day and overnight.  The surgeon was ahead of schedule, so she got in a bit early.  Greg (brother-in-law) was there early, and Jeanette (Peg's sister) arrived just as Peg was being wheeled down the hall.  Our friend Marlene is there with Jeanette, and Bruce Patt is going to stop by.

She's in great hands.  Dr. Elliott has performed over 350 surgeries identical to Peg's.

We're in a small-ish waiting area that's just for families of ICU patients.  When Jeanette and I walked in there was some godawful game show on a flat screen TV in the corner, and no one in the room but us and an elderly lady reading a book.  We couldn't figure out how to turn down the volume, so we unplugged it.  Yay!  Then we discovered the buttons on the side.  Doh!  

No wi-fi at the hospital, so I won't be able to update y'all until after the surgery.  This kind of surgery can take two to five hours.  Jeanette, Marlene and I are guessing two and a half.  As soon as Dr. Elliott debriefs us I'll let everyone know what's going on.

Thanks so much for thinking of us and posting comments.  We're all holding Peg in a circle of love.  More soon.

Not nerdy enough

New at this, and while thoroughly nerdy, not nerdy enough to figure out why some folks are unable to post comments while others have no issues. Working on it. Will post when I pull the sword from the stone. Oh-- and according to Google, I don't have permission to comment on it, even though I'm the administrator. Is it any wonder people throw their computers at the wall? Stay tuned.

Welcome to the whirlwind

Welcome to the whirlwind. We found out last Friday Peg was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Tomorrow at 11am she'll undergo major surgery, then be home by Friday or Saturday. This blog will be the place to check on Peg and our family in general. We're pretty overwhelmed, so hopefully the blog will enable you to stay in touch until things settle out a bit and we're able to respond personally without spending a lot of time on the phone. There's a lot going on right now.

By the way, the left hand header photo was taken at Sunset State Beach this Spring when Peg was hangin' out of the back of the camper. The right hand photo is M-51, Peg's favorite galaxy.

Peg shut down her psychiatric practice of 20 years permanently last Wednesday. With the help of her friends in the therapy community, she's moving her patients to other care. She's grateful for her friends and colleagues who are willing to take her patients, some of whom Peg has treated for many years and are just as shocked by the news of Peg's medical condition as we all are.

I will update this blog as frequently as warranted, with words, photos and video. I know so many of you want to contact us by phone, but we're just swamped with the day to day mechanics of the task ahead. I've been asked if we can be followed on Twitter--nope. We're non-tweeters.

Please feel free to write to us in the comments section and I'll read your responses aloud to Peg when she's recuperating.

Life is often full of oddball left turns. We're grateful to have so many wonderful people sharing this taxicab with us.