Post Surgery Day 1

Our Mom, Gina, Tony, Aunt Margie, and I waited in the ICU family waiting area during the surgery. Aunt Margie provided an enormous amount of comfort and cheer as we worried and waited and wondered. We wanted Carmelo to rest after his shift, so he would be able to see our dad post surgery. Our time passed slowly.

Dr. Krishnan finally arrived at 11am with the surgical report. Dr. Krishnan is an amazing surgeon with remarkable bedside manner. The surgery went very well, and our dad fared impressively during the procedure. He shared with us that the tumor had indeed invaded the chest wall and that, as a result, rib portions were removed. He believed that he was able to eliminate all cancerous and plausibly diseased tissue with the removal of the upper lobe and surrounding ribs. Surgical pathology results on lymph nodes and rib portions were not expected back until Monday. Because the ribs involved were positioned high on the back, the scapula will provide protection and anatomical structure for our dad. Therefore, reconstruction is not necessary. Though we were prepared for the possibility of this scenario, it was nonetheless difficult to hear. We know chemotherapy will follow and will begin in approximately 4 weeks.

Since our dad fared so well during surgery, Dr. Krishnan expresses confidence that he will remain in recovery for 1-1.5 hours and will be transported to a regular room, not the ICU for his remaining hospital stay. He wants our dad sitting up by day's end and feels confident that his pain will be managed well. We are so glad surgery was a success. We hope and pray that pathology will have the most favorable report as possible. More praying.

For the remainder of the afternoon, we struggle to understand why our dad is not moved to a regular room, as promised. What was assured to be 1.5 hours evolves into a 6 hour stay in the Recovery or Holding area. This is unacceptable. Three hours in, we are eventually allowed to see him in this busy, public zone. This was difficult and frustrating. Our dad is suffering, and we all are Mother Hens, trying at first to considerately inquire about room availability; but, feeling ignored, we become more and more upset. He is not resting. He is in pain. There is no privacy, no peace. We do our best to advocate for him. By the end, we "got our Irish up" with the staff. Gina spoke to the charge nurse, Carmelo spoke to the Recovery nurse, and I spoke to the surgical nurse. Our "never rock the boat" father, too, is visibly exasperated. Eventually, by 5:30, we have our private room. Finally, he may rest.

I am in awe of my dad. I honestly still am unable to fathom this whole experience. To see him after surgery was difficult, but beautiful too. He, again, looks amazing. Really. He is shaken to his core. Yet, his face is lovely. He has his same rosy cheeks, despite the trauma of surgery, and when asked about the pain, he still says, "just a little bit." He keeps saying, "pray, pray, pray." His (and our mom's) faith is, and alway has been, inspiring, to put it mildly. I really cannot believe this strength.

One of his first questions was about his ribs: "they didn't have to remove any ribs, did they?" We responded that Dr. Krishnan said he did so well and he got everything out. The cancer was out. Just a little bit of the ribs. But he was going to be okay. And he looked great. Later in the evening, after his Pulmonary doctor visited, we again told him how great he looked and how wonderfully he did through this whole day. Tired, confused and shaken, our dad mused, "Well they tell me I look good; but why doesn't inside of me look good. They told me I looked good before my heart surgery, and I had a heart problem (2000)...." We assure him the "bad" inside of him is gone. It's out and he will get through this. He will.

I am wrestling with all of this personally. I know my whole family is. In actuality, there is no "bad" inside of this man. His heart and soul are so good, so pure. It still makes no sense. It still feels so unfair. We know he is strong. We know his faith is solid. We know he is a fighter. He is a rock-without a doubt he is. It is so just difficult, so so painful to see him suffer again and again.