An adventure on the road to better health

This morning, Monday, August 9, 2010, I did a seven-mile walking workout, exercising with a pair of three-pound dumbells for the entire one hour and 42 minutes. I feel good about doing that today since exactly one week earlier I was on my way to the hospital to undergo "Laproscopic Right Inguinal Hernia Repair."

Yes, I had hernia surgery complete with general anasthesia. Check-in that day at Mt. Hood Medical Center was noon. I believe I walked back into my house about 8PM. My dear wife got to spend the afternoon waiting then taxiing me home.

I'm glad I had continued my walking and running right up to the day of the surgery. I believe my recovery from the anasthesia was aided by having relatively healthy heart and lungs. I've had a few surgeries the last few years. General anasthesia leaves me feeling like a horse is sitting on my chest. That feeling only lasted a couple of days this time.

On Monday, June 28, six weeks ago now, I'm showering following my morning workout, and beating myself up a bit for having gained five pounds over the weekend. As I am drying myself I feel a lump about three inches to the right of and seven inches below my navel. I touch it again. It doesn't hurt. It seems to be about the size of an almond. I prod it another time and am quite certain that I have discovered a tumor and need to find a good doctor to tell me how long I have to live.

Denise is at work. I rule out calling an ambulance or driving to the nearest Immediate Care facility. It is only 8:30, so I will have to wait thirty minutes to speak to someone at my primary doctor's office. I pray. I don't call Denise; I have no idea what to tell her. I pray for Denise, believing God is going to have to give her even more grace and strength as we walk through this process.

I am able to get an appointment to see the physician's assistant later that morning. I still don't call Denise. I really want to talk to a doctor before I talk to my wife.

I get to the doctor's office. The receptionist recognizes me, says it appears I have lost weight since my last visit, and asks if I am losing the weight on purpose. I get a pretty big grin on my face as I tell her I have been walking a lot the last few months, and assure her my weight loss is not due to illness. Of course, as I sit down to wait to be seen I begin to wonder if that is completely true.

My turn. Weight 206; was 240 in December when I was getting my Commercial Driver License renewed. Blood pressure a bit below 120/80; it's never been a significant health issue for me. The p.a. asks me what I think the lump is. I say it reminds me of what I felt on my dog when he developed a fatty tumor. The p.a. pokes and prods, asks a few questions, then announces it is probably a small hernia, but I will need to see a surgeon to be certain. I leave with a business card for Portland Surgical Specialists.

So, maybe I'm not going home to heaven just yet. I drive to Denise's work, only a few blocks extra on my way home. As nonchalantly as possible I show her the business card and tell her why I have to call them for an appointment. Yes, it's possible that it's something more sinister than a hernia, but the p.a. seemed pretty confident and didn't act like we even needed to ask the real doctor's opinion. I search Denise's face for a reaction. Quiet confidence that all will be well. Or a great actress? Or too buried in too much to do at work to take time to scream? I choose to believe God answers prayer even when we're too jumbled up inside to know what to pray.

I see the surgeon the morning of Friday, July 2. The surgeon demonstrates her ability to prod the lump in a manner that produces intense pain, then sends me to her assistant to schedule me for hernia surgery. I feel much more confident that my death won't be due to the lump.

It is too late to schedule surgery for the next week, and doing the surgery prior to a 9-day camping trip is a bad idea, so we schedule the surgery for August 2. I am instructed to do nothing strenuous between now and the surgery date. If I'm not sure about something, I should avoid it. If I decide to do something anyway, stop immediately if it hurts. Within a few days I resume my walking and jogging, but decide to continue putting off doing push-ups and crunches.

As part of pre-op the surgeon wants blood tests which include lipid and liver function. My main doctor sees those results and wants me to come in to talk. The cholestorol numbers look very good, but the liver function is not great. When he learns of my greatly increased activity level and my weight loss, he determines we need to cut the statin dosage in half and eliminate the niacin from my cholestorol meds. My body is now producing enough HDL and niacin that the previous prescription was poisoning my liver. This is very good news from my perspective.

We go camping and have a great time with the family. I walk or run 2 to 6 miles most days so I end up only gaining 3 pounds. We get home on Sunday afternoon, August 1, then head off for surgery the next day feeling fine. The hernia really hasn't bothered me much.

I get home from surgery Monday evening, feeling no pain. The general anasthesia hasn't fully worn off. My wife gets the pain med prescription filled right away because we are assured by the nurse that I will want and need them in a few hours. By 10PM my haze has lifted enough for me to recognize that the nurse was not exaggerating. Not only does my chest feel like a horse is sitting on it, any movement involving my torso feels like the horse is kicking. Tuesday is pretty much a fog.

By Wednesday afternoon the pain in my gut has subsided enough that I decide to try walking a bit. I do a very slow half-mile, struggling primarily with the heaviness in my chest. Wednesday evening I discover I can get into and roll over in bed with only very minor pain. I'm done with the pain meds.

Thursday I walk a fairly slow mile with no pain and not even a Tylenol. Friday I walk two miles in just over 30 minutes. The heaviness in my chest is gone. I started this post talking about this morning's workout. I am experiencing some pain today as I'm writing this and doing laundry and going up and down the stairs, but the pain is all in my calves. It's the good pain following a good, hard workout. I choose not to call the workout strenuous because I have been instructed to do nothing strenuous for five more weeks. If my wife reads this she may decide that I'm not too weak to mow the lawn after all.