I took the day off work yesterday to take Brian to the hospital for his surgery. If you don’t already know, he had a tumor which he so loving named Marla, growing under his right arm. When it first appeared back in August we were sure it was nothing but by October they were doing a Biopsy and I was emotionally preparing myself for my husband to be diagnosed with cancer. Thank God this was not the case. Yes, it’s a tumor but it’s benign AKA not cancer although it did have a low malignant potential so the doctor said we’d definitely want to have it removed. Unfortunately we didn’t have any insurance for Brian so we had to wait and wait and wait before we could finally see a surgeon about the procedure.
Brian’s insurance kicked in at the beginning of April and they scheduled his surgery for the 6th. We got up at 6am yesterday morning and drove down to the hospital together. Everything went surprisingly quick. We checked in, they had us back in a room a few minutes later and an IV in him just after that. Before I knew it I was kissing him goodbye and he was off to surgery. I knew it wasn’t a dangerous procedure so I wasn’t scared exactly but I was worried all the same. I sat in a small lobby with my iPod blasting as I read my latest Sookie Stackhouse novel. They gave me an Olive Garden style pager and said it would go off when he was out of surgery and headed to recovery.
It was only about an hour before my pager went off. I took it up to the receptionist and she put me in a small room and said the Doctor would be in to see me in a few. I knew Brian was ok but sitting there in that little room, all by myself, my stomach started to turn. I think I’ve watched entirely too many hospital dramas. The Doctor came in a few minutes later and was very brief. Said it all went well. Said it was smaller than he thought it would be and it was very hard. He told me he had to take out some muscle and some cartilage in order to get it out. Said he didn’t think it would cause any long term problems but it was likely to make Brian a little extra sore.
He said they’d be sending it off to a pathologist to make sure it was still the same thing they thought it was before but he was pretty sure it wasn’t going change and that they’d call us tomorrow to see how Brian was doing. I then spent another 45 minutes in the waiting room before they took him to recovery where I was allowed to see him.
When I walked into his room he gave me a big grin. He looked more alert than I expected him to. He was drinking apple juice as a nurse buzzed about him. He reminded me of a little boy who’d just gotten his tonsils out. They gave him a pain pill and we hung out in recover for about 45 minutes. Brian told me he’d asked for me the moment he woke up. He’s a sweet kid when he’s all doped up. I helped him get dressed and the nurse wheeled him out to the car.
When we got home we cuddled up on the couch and pretty much stayed there for the rest of the day. I took a little nap around 3:30pm and when I got back up we decided to be bad and went to Dairy Queen for dinner. Then we watched Wrestling. Batista totally kicked Randy Orton’s ass and it was awesome.
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