Under Construction

Do you ever have those moments where you stop, slap your hand to your forehead, and realize that you had the PERFECT Halloween costume, and you didn't even know it?

(No? Hmm...maybe it's just me...awkward...)

People. I was dressed up as a Jack-o-lantern on Halloween, and I had no idea! I was so busy adjusting to my state of permanent robot, that I didn't take advantage of the fact that I had a giant hole in the center of my abdomen!

Quite sad. I could have stuffed it with pumpkin seeds, or painted myself orange, or something fabulous!

Because clearly an adult in her 30's painted orange with her arm in a sling, a robotic heart named Penelope, and an abdominal hole full of pumpkin seeds is totally normal...

So I have a hole. In fancy-schmancy words, it's called a gastric fistula, and if we are being more specific, I have essentially created my very own permanent highway from my stomach to the outer world. I can put my dinner on my abdomen, without ever using my hands!

I know, I know! My resume just got a whole lot cooler! I mean, when was the last time you could say that you grew your own highway?

Autograph signing will resume tomorrow. Be kind, I tire easily.

It goes without saying that this is not exactly "the norm." In fact, the medical community has gone out of their way to make sure I really understood the 2% factor over the past 3 weeks:

"Ma'am...this is the radiology clinic. I've been the head technician here for 11 years, but, um, I've never heard of this test, never done this test, and don't have the materials to DO this test...uh...sorry?"

"Wait...what body part are we doing this test on again? Is it a rectal fistula?"

[Insert mild silent freak out over the phone. Um NO very kind sir, it is thankfully NOT.]

"Ok so it looks like you are swallowing this barium to test for a gastric fistula...where is that again?"

"So we usually give our patients a packet of information about the procedure...but...uh...for this we don't actually have one..."

I think I need a new business card that I can hand out every time I meet a new medical professional:

"Lydia Buschenfeldt: Surprising the world with the rare and unusual since 1983. High maintenance, with a side of green juice, and a splash of glitter."

(Clearly written in sparkly font. With bedazzled adornments. And maybe a giraffe.)

Keeping that business card in mind, I'm having surgery.
Again.
On Wednesday.

All of the tissue that has created the fistula will be removed, and then they will sew me up from the inside out, stomach to skin.

Anyone want to join?

Penelope and I did an excellent job of confusing everyone in the surgeon's office, when I showed up 5 days post pacemaker surgery in a sling, moving a bit more like the tortoise than the hare, and requesting to see a surgeon about the hole in my...abdomen.

This really is excellent prep for the holidays, right? I'm losing a portion of my stomach, getting a bit of a tummy tuck, and recovering on a clear liquids diet...bring on the stuffing! Bring on the pie!

Or...broth?

So while some people recover from pacemaker surgery with, say, resting or watching movies. Others may be so productive as to take up knitting or reading an entire series. I, on the other hand, recover by creating another situation from which to recover. What can I say, my dad didn't refer to itty-bitty me as "Boo-Boo" (in reference to the massive consumption of bandaids) for nothing.

Under construction, my friends. Restarting my hard drive, one body part at a time.

(And some twice. Or maybe three times.)

It may not be what I planned, and it may not be what I had hoped for, but I'm ready to find smoother roads to travel. Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for this highway to be permanently closed.

Grab your hard hat Penelope, we're going in.

A New Bundle of Joy!

Friends!

We have a new member of the family!

She is just a wee little thing, and in no time at all she has completely captured my heart!

Introducing, Penelope the Pacemaker.

Oh, bliss!

We named her Penelope...

because...

well...

um...

Hello? Alliteration? There is no greater literary device?

Duh.

[What? You DON'T spend time googling "names that begin with a p" while YOU are recovering from surgery? Dude, you are missing out.]

Like many new arrivals, Penelope made a grand, and somewhat off-script, entrance. The plan was to simply slip her under my chest muscle.

(Yes, the word "simply" doesn't often go with "under my chest muscle" but work with me here.)

Instead of slipping into place, the medical team ended up having to slice and separate my chest muscle for placement. The good news is that they thoughtfully gave me some medicine for the pain...that I ended up being allergic to said medicine is neither here nor there...it's all about the intention, yes?

The even BETTER news is that this has all been so much fun that I signed up to do it every 10 years!

You know what they say about bundles of joy - you never remember the pain!

After dear little Penelope made her grand arrival, we spent some time in the hospital so I could introduce her to everyone. Also so I could lower the average age on the progressive care unit by a good 40+ years.

In fact, when I called the cardiologist a few days after surgery, I followed directions and gave them my birthdate and name for identification. When I asked if the very kind woman needed me to spell my last name, she was especially thoughtful to remind me that "no dear, you are the only one in the system born in 1983."

Stupendous.

In other news, I'm pulling for a remake of the Jetsons. Ooooo perhaps a musical remake with jazz hands and tap shoes?!?! Clearly I would star as Rosie the Robot.

(On second thought, the tap shoes could prove problematic...)

The day after Penelope was introduced to the world, the Biotronik representative came to my room to check her out. The man kindly chatted with me as he was pressing buttons on a computer.

And then my heart started to have a dance party.

PEOPLE.
The man controlled my heart by punching buttons into a computer, all while standing 10 feet away.
AND, get this!
After my first device check in 4-6 weeks, Penelope can have her check-ups via TELEPHONE.
I hold up my phone to my heart, and her stats are transmitted via phone.

I. Am. Rosie.

Penelope is not a fan of any source of extra voltage...so I'm going to have to finally put a stop to my habit of spending so much time with the ignition of my car, and operating power tools.

Always did have a soft spot for the miter saw.

I did a bit of multi-tasking during my day at the hospital spa, and also had a catheter ablation. This procedure used cryogenics to freeze a portion of the wiring around my heart, and treat AV Nodal Re-Entrant Tachycardia. I've had some funny heart rhythm dance parties in recovery, but not all robots adjust overnight, and let's be honest - Penelope is cause for hearty applause, yes?

It also appears that the medical world got a little bit nervous that they wouldn't get to see Penelope and me on a regular basis (gosh, it's always about her!)...so to reassure them, my feeding tube stoma decided to burst open two days after my surgery.

Rest assured, this happens in 2% of patients.

Some people recover from heart surgery by lying on the couch and reading magazines...I like to add in fun things like esophagrams, fistulagrams, and a visit to the friendly neighborhood surgeon.

(And yes, my dreams have been dashed to discover that neither the esophagram, nor the fistulagram, include anything similar to the opening of a musical greeting card. They don't even include glitter. This medical world is a SHAM.)

I know it's November, and the start of a busy holiday season (I saw Santa the other day. It was November 6th?) but if you had a spare moment or two to think some good, quality "no surgery" thoughts, Penelope and I would be most appreciative.

But perhaps more importantly, friends, we have a bigger and more difficult assignment.

T-minus ten years to think of a new P name!