My Colon Cancer Abdominal Resection

My Colon Cancer Abdominal Resection
November 2003

My first surgery was for tonsils. Maybe I was seven. I remember wanting popcorn after surgery but my mom brought ice cream. I think I stayed overnight in the hospital.

In my thirties I had two hernia repair surgeries. I had to rest a few days. No big deal. In your thirties you still think you can live forever. Hernia repair was just a speed bump in my race through life. I had stitches in my crotch so it was hard to sit up and it hurt to laugh. I did not want my friends with a sense of humor to come see me in the hospital. One friend brought me lilies and made me watch the Night of the Living Dead.

In my forties I had three nasal polyp surgeries. These were outpatient and easy because I had no real fear of dying. Surgery was quick and recovery was a short duration. I had support at home and was surrounded by friends.

Preparing for colon cancer surgery was scary. My cancer diagnosis felt like the kiss of death. I carried the intense fear of dying on the operating table during my abdominal resection. I did not know if they would be able to remove all the cancer from my body. Maybe the cancer was spreading. Maybe I would die slowly wasting away as cancer spread through my body.

After my diagnosis I got a second opinion from another doctor. He confirmed I had colon cancer. Next step was to find a surgeon to do the procedure. Carrie and I met with the doctor. I asked questions and Carrie wrote down answers. I was still overwhelmed about my cancer diagnosis. The doctor who did my colonoscopy called me on my personal cell phone to make sure I got my abdominal resection surgery scheduled as soon as possible.

I made sure my health insurance would cover my procedures. The night before my surgery I had to empty out my lower intestine and colon. No food or water after midnight.

Early in the morning, Carrie, my brother, and Carrie’s parents brought me to Sutter Hospital in Sacramento. An armband was placed on my left arm. When you enter a medical center for surgery, you submit to the surgical procedures. I took off my street clothes, glasses, watch, and changed into a blue and white hospital gown. I was just another medical patient now. I gave my medical files, my wallet and car keys to Carrie. I call this my surrender to surgery.

I laid down on a gurney. I tried to relax. I was really cold. The nurse covered my legs with a warm blue blanket. Then another nurse brought elastic stockings. These were to be worn to prevent blood clots. Then my legs were surrounded with a device that massaged my legs.

Next step to prepare me for surgery was for a nurse to start an IV. Unfortunately for me a young nurse in training was assigned to me to find a vein. After several failed attempts I asked for a more experienced nurse. I noticed Carrie was getting squeamish. Carrie had fainted during one of my earlier surgeries. I suggested she find my brother David to keep me company. An experienced nurse arrived to start my IV. She found a vein immediately. She connected the needle in my arm to clear tubing and a bag of glucose.

I tried to relax. My brother and I were surrounded with a curtain. This was supposed to provide privacy in a crowded surgical waiting room. I looked into my brother’s blue eyes to draw upon his strength. We were both scared. We both were trying to be brave.

My surgeon opened my private curtain and said “Good Morning.” He looked at my medical chart. A surgical mask hung around his neck. I was probably ab resection number two on his list. For him this was just another medical procedure.

“Do you have any questions, Mr. Beckstein?” he asked.

“No.” I replied.

Another nurse appeared through the curtain to position adhesive strips on my body. These were for the EKG machine and other electronic devices. She disappeared.

My anesthesiologist arrived. He looked at my chart.

Is he old enough to practice medicine? I thought to myself. He looks so young! Hope he knows what he is doing I thought.

“I am Doctor Saunders. We spoke on the phone last night. I will start a drug to help you to relax and then when we are in the operating room you will go to sleep. “Do you have any questions, Mr. Beckstein?” he asked.

“No.” I replied. I am ready for my surgery Doctor.

I was glad my brother David was by my side. We listened to the noises coming through my privacy curtain. The anti-anxiety medicine was starting to smooth the edges of my experience.

One month before my surgery a friend recommended “Successful Surgery.” A compact disk by Belleruth Naparstek. This guided imagery and affirmations helped me prepare for this day. I played the CD at home several times to help me relax and to prepare for this stressful surgery. The day of the procedure, I forgot to bring the CD into the operating room but I could recall Belleruth’s voice.

“You will see a shimmering….” I could hear her voice telling me to relax. Her entire message was there in my brain ready to recall before my procedure.

My body began to relax as the IV medication helped me feel warm and safe. I felt like I was in a movie. My brother disappeared from view like a ship floating out to sea. My gurney rolled through big stainless steel doors and I entered the operating room. The room was very bright. I saw my surgeon and my anesthesiologist looking at me as the nurse hooked up my electrodes to the EKG.

“Ready Mr. Beckstein?”

Yes.

Fade to black.

Notes from my medical record…

A small bowel resection was performed while the patient was under general anesthesia. A nine inch incision was made in the abdomen. The diseased part of the colon was removed and the two healthy ends were sewn back together. The abdominal incision was closed. The Abdominal Resection was successful. Twenty-five lymph nodes were removed for testing.

Post-OP

“Can you hear me Mr. Beckstein?”

The recovery room nurse’s voice was far away. Maybe I could understand every other word. Like a spotty cellphone connection. I was surrounded by muffled voices drifting into my field of hearing.

A machine was inflating and deflating the blood pressure cuff squeezing my right bi-cep. It recorded a reading of 130 over 79. Pulse 60.

“Can you open your eyes Mr. Beckstein?”

“I rather not Nurse, I thought to myself. Leave me alone. I do not want to wake up. Let me sleep a little longer.”

Out of focus lights appeared through the fog covering my body.

“If you can hear my voice blink your eyes Mr. Beckstein.”

I blinked.

I was officially awake following my abdominal resection. My body felt heavy. I considered trying to move my arms but I felt like a lead blanket was covering my chest and arms like a dentist office x-ray procedure.

Nurses and doctors were walking back and forth around my gurney. Other patients were wrapped in white sheets like Egyptian mummies. No dead people here. Think I am in the recovery room. No privacy curtain here. Big wide open room where the nurses watch patients like bees buzzing in a field of flowers.

I was bored looking at the ceiling tiles, I had a wild idea. Maybe I could move the fingers of my left hand! I wiggled a few fingers. Hey they moved. Next I tried to bend my elbow and move my fingers. Success. Do I dare explore my belly to feel the incision? I was curious and scared at the same time. Conflict. What to do? I pushed away the hospital blanket to bravely explore my midsection only to be stopped with bandages and gauze and wide strips of adhesive tape. Better not to proceed to the incision just yet. Maybe too much information.

Beep. Beep, beep.
The EKG recorded my heart beat with the latest digital display for the nurse.

I was breathing.
My heart was beating.
I was alive.
I was done with surgery.
I did not die on the operating table.
Do I still have cancer in my body?
Did they dig it all out?

“You are doing very well Mr. Beckstein” my surgeon and my primary physician were looking at me. They both had a big smile. Both in surgical scrubs.

“In a few minutes they will move you to your hospital room. You get some rest. We will talk to your family now. Do you have any questions?”

“Did you remove all the cancer during this surgery, doctor?”

“Yes.”

I thanked them and drifted off to sleep. I felt no pain. Morphine floated into my bloodstream and I was grateful. I was grateful to be alive.

Someone pushed my gurney into a huge elevator. A few moments later my body was transferred from gurney to my hospital bed.

I was alone.