Pre-Op

Posted on by Thor

I had blood tests and that test where they attached all those diodes to areas for the chest done before going to the hospital for my hernia surgery. When in the pre-op area I sketched this nurse who was very helpful. She shaved my chest and pubic hair so that there was no hair anywhere near where the robot would be operating. Another nurse came in and started to do the same test that I had done the week before. She had not checked the chart and was happy to double bill me for the procedure. The nurse I sketched checked and saw that the tests had already been done. She managed to get the charge removed for the redundant testing that was done. When the bill is over $11,000 that savings was lost in the insane expense for the day.

There was infantile beach scene wallpaper trim at the top of the wall in the pre-op room. Somehow that beach scene was not reassuring.

I could not sketch in the operating room. I was knocked out in minutes with anesthesia. I met the anesthesiologist, and my doctor and several other people who were in the room to watch the robot dig into my innards.

When I woke up my sister Pat was in the room and she and Mike drove me back to their place south of Sarasota. I had purchased pain meds and felt some nausea, but I quickly recovered. It was kind of nice to vegetate for a few days and watch British antiques road show programing. After two days, I decided I was strong enough to drive myself back to Orlando.

Now that my chest has grown back all it’s hair, the three bullet hole scars are no longer visible from the operation. The center scar was for a miniature camera and the other two scars were for probing mechanical hands that placed a mesh inside my abdomen at my pelvis and secured it in place. There were not stitches, but rather the holes were super glues shut.

Recovery Room

Posted on by Thor

By Thomas Thorspecken

After my operation where I was essentially neutered like a stray dog with a laser shoved up the old flag pole, my sister Pat Thorspecken and Nepalitano came to visit the Lake County Studio I was renting to take care of me in case anything went south in my recovery. Pat felt I would not be able to get up into the Princess and the Pea bed I usually sleep in. That bed involves stepping up on my flat files to jump up onto the mattress which is about 4 feet off the ground since there are 2 mattresses, a box spring, a bed frame and an extra pillow mat.

I was told, I might be on narcotics for the pain and my sister brought a walker and a cane, thinking I would not be able to get around. However the only pain medication I was given was over the counter Tylenol and I got around just fine. Instead of being convalescent, I ended up playing the part of the host. I made a lasagna so everyone would have something to eat over the course of the week. There was more than enough food since friends of Stella had dropped off some items and Pat brought several bags of groceries with her from Port Charlotte, Florida.

That weekend I hiked with Pat and Just Jeff at Pear Park (26701 US Hwy 27, Leesburg, Fl) as a way to get out into the sunshine and experience natures healing power. I got a decent sketch at the river on that walk. I also cut off roots from a huge root ball in the side yard of the Lake County Studio, left over from a fallen tree from hurricane Milton with garden sheers. Jeff dug in and cut off several of the larger roots with a reciprocating saw. We had a fire in the fire pit each night which always calms my nerves.

The room pictured above had a calming effect on me. There was a faux Franklin Furnace and I would turn it on at night and watch the faux flames and the lights that would dance on the walls. The effect was mesmerizing and would instantly put me to sleep. Now that my sister has left, it is quiet again in the Lake County Studio. I have moved back to the Princess and the Pea bed since I have no problem hopping up. Life has started to return to normal although my insides still feel akimbo like they have been scrambled and have to find their way back home. Instead of lying still, I went to see several more homes yesterday, which might make good studios. Since I am now a tumbleweed, it is hard to figure out where I should settle. Home is where the heart is and I am still searching for it.

PRE-Op

Posted on by Thor

My urethra was being choked off by my prostate. Because of this I would have to pee every half hour or so and could not sleep through the night. Worst, I couldn’t sit through and complete a sketch. It became unbearable. The prostate produces the fluids for male ejaculations. I decided to get an operation that would remove the inner prostate. I would no longer be able to have children but I would recover some normalcy to my life.

KC Cali volunteered to be my Health Care Surrogate for the operation. She had been through several harrowing hospital experiences with her husband Bob Szafranski, so she had experience with doctors and the hospital system. Having her join me was the smartest thing I did going into surgery. My sister Pat Thorspecken-Napolitano drove up from Port Charlotte to drive me to the hospital and back. Just Jeff who was in Lake County from Ohio to see a friend’s UCF Masters Thesis Presentation joined us to help Pat drive back to Lake County. He was a huge help. KC was driving from a different direction and we met her in front of the hospital.

Security and reception were fairly simple and then we went to the second floor. There I was separated from my Health Care Surrogate. The whole point of having KC there was to have a second set of eyes and ears going into the process. Before I signed away my life on the three long forms, I took pictures of those forms and sent them to KC to see if she had second thoughts. Once you read that Death might be one of the side effects, you start to have second thoughts. Once those forms were filled out and collected, KC could come back to my Pre-Op cubicle.

First thing I had to do was get dressed in the hospital garb, which included a gown which was incredibly complicated with snaps and belts. It might have actually been a straight jacket. There were knee high garters I had to wear that were insanely tight. They were to protect against blood clots during the operation. KC had to explain how to put them on by rolling them up like women’s stockings. After that she disappeared behind the curtain for the sake of my privacy. Socks had rubber strips on then to avoid slipping in the hallways. Lying on the gurney helped hide the fact that my butt cheeks wanted to escape the open flaps out back.

A barrage of tests followed, blood pressure tests, a heart rate monitor on the tip of my finger and a hook up for an IV. KC had the genius idea that I should ask for the IV on my left hand so my right hand remained free to sketch. Once snuggled under the blanket on the gurney, I started sketch as did KC. It turns out my new fountain pen bleeds when water color washes were added to the sketch. I had to live with it. My other fountain pen was out of ink.

Then doctor Amin who was performing the operation, nurses, the anesthetist, and  a barrage of other techs each came in one at a time to ask questions. As my nervousness rose, KC kept me amused and entertained with her stories and my sketching calmed me down. Soon I was given a mild sedative. I was told that I might not remember anything that happened. KC was the last person I saw as I was drifting off. I said, “Who are you?” She smiled and I was out immediately. When I opened my eyes, KC was there in a differed Post Op area. I was slurring my words but the pain was minimal.