On Thursday I went into Wellington Hospital for an operation to insert a feeding tube into my stomach. That's to prepare for the risk of not being capable of eating normally, once my radiotherapy period begins.
The operation involved having an endoscopy (insertion, via my mouth into my stomach, of a flexible tube with a light on the end of it); and then a small cut in my abdomen where the light marked the correct spot to go through.
The whole process is known as a Percutaneous Endoscopic Gastrostomy (PEG) and so the installed device (pictured at right) is commonly called 'The Peg'. I call him: 'Jake'.
Jake has 4cm of tube inside my stomach and about 25cm dangling out like a third leg. To feed, a big syringe full of nutrients would be connected to the end of the tube and pumped directly into my stomach.
After an amicable installation on Thursday afternoon, Jake began make a real nuisance of himself on Friday, irritating the surrounding area. We decided to stay another night in hospital to keep an eye on it, and get to the bottom of why he is not fitting in with the rest of the crew. My doctors have poked and prodded around. We even mapped out an Xray, but that only led us to an empty chest.
Last night we sent in two regiments of tramadol (painkiller) but Jake fought back belligerently against the first, and orgainsed a small mutiny to eject the second outright. Spectacular.
However, as I write this Saturday morning, Jake seems to be causing less of a problem. We sent in morphine in the arly hours, which calmed the situation pretty well. The pain now seems to be about half of yesterday's levels.
I'll probably have to extend my stay here at hospital another day. But it's very warm and comfortable, with excellent room service, like a four star hotel. And at least I won't have to fork out a big ransom.