Super Humans

I’m very happy to report that I’m recovering well from my surgery on Wednesday, thanks to several days of superhuman care from the super humans at Hutt Hospital.

Looking out now from my hospital room’s window, over the Hutt Valley and across the internet beyond, it seems like pockets of the world have gone a bit mad. I think of my kind friends and neighbours from years ago, Vlad and Irena who emigrated from Ukraine to NZ, and their two sons, and wonder what they must be feeling and how their extended families are. I am lucky to be where I am right now, propelled by the type of humanity, skill and compassion that the world needs more of.

My surgery on Wednesday went as planned, with a combo of surgical teams working in theatre the whole day.

A left neck dissection enabled my left internal carotid artery to be patched with a section from the great saphenous vein in my leg. In a non-trivial exercise, the tumour was removed from my soft palate, and upper and lower jawbone areas, and the palate area replaced with a graft from my right forearm. Which was in turn patched by a graft donated by my right thigh.

I snoozed in the intensive care unit overnight and through the next day, under the watchful eyes of the ICU nurses. One nurse was stationed at the foot of my bed to watch me breathe, noting any variation or stirring. Behind a side curtain another set kept track of my heartbeat, along with my in and out breath, and my blood pressure. Throughout the day, I could hear them noting to each other: “…and there is the In…. and ….there is the Out.” Their attention was unflinching for hours, and they seemed to refuse to take breaks unless completely satisfied with my condition. My blood pressure level wavered to cause a nurse to turn down her lunch three times. It’s ok, she said, “I’ll just take a suck from an oxygen bottle and keep going”. Which she did, until about 7pm.

Eventually, I was deemed ready for release from ICU to the Plastics Ward where I have been since.

At Plastics Ward, they appear to have the same staff recruitment policy as ICU: ie, super-human or heaven-sent; possessing nerves of steel and irrepressibly determined to cheer you up.

On Saturday night, two such angels replaced my tracheostomy dressing, administered me an Elixir, and sang me a bedside duet of “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” by Elvis Presley.

I couldn’t be in a better place.