Shortly after my last post–on Sunday to be exact–the incision point around the biliary stent began to leak green fluid. Bile. Per instructions, we attached a bag to the external part of the stent. Sure enough, bile began to flow, and at a rate of over half a bag every 12 hours. I left a message with the IR doctor and followed up with a call on Monday.
Pending authorization, we had a Thursday appointment for re-evaluation. We arrived at 11:30am for our noon appointment only to be told it was for 1 pm. By 12:15, my husband was ravenous. I bought him a tuna on whole grain bread, which he devoured in a matter of minutes.
To compound frustration, when the doctor, who was late as he was involved with another procedure, finally arrived, he said it was to replace the stent, which must be blocked or dislocated going by the amount of bile my husband’s external bag was generating. Anesthesia was not an option since he’d just eaten a sandwich, so my husband, an admitted pain-o-phobe, refused to have the procedure without anesthesia, and we adjourned until this coming Tuesday.
Not to waste any time, however, we had bloodwork done immediately so there would be no hold ups.
I knew this lack of bile in the digestive tract was responsible for the uptick in diarrhea. That my husband is miserable about unavoidable accidents is to be expected. But then I found out he’d mixed up his oral chemo drugs, and was taking Xeloda, which he was not supposed to take this week, while abstaining from Tarceva, which he WAS to be taking. This may be adding to his discomfort. He’s angry and frustrated with himself. I’m discouraged.
I’ve gone back to dosing him myself so no further mistakes can be made, and emailed the oncology physician’s assistant to keep her up to date. She requested I call her on Monday.
So again, we’re waiting. Until tomorrow to touch base with the PA, and until Tuesday for the restenting. We still haven’t gotten to the IV chemo experience. I’m not looking forward to it, though he is impatient to begin it.
I also wonder where I am now in relation to my character Danny Ambrose’s situation in With Malice toward One. I’ve been with my husband since the beginning here, where she came back into Alec’s life while he was undergoing chemo, and was shocked by both the diagnosis and the toll it took on him, not to mention the change in his personality as he struggled with believing he would die while doing everything possible to live.
My husband has his moments of depression, but he’s in this for his future, which is all I can ask for now. Even when he’s angry with me for what he sees as my caring more for material objects than for his comfort (and he may be right, but those pale yellow living room couch cushions he wants to sleep on wouldn’t be washable where the lower, leather couch and his jeans are), he still rails about the things he’ll do when he’s back to normal. I see his railing as a good thing, even if I’m a bad girl. <wry g>