27 April 2022
I was able to go to pre-op with Joyce where we discussed the situation with Dr. Tong before the surgery.
She felt the hyperbaric oxygen treatments were not doing enough to justify another 20 sessions. That contradicts the hyperbaric team's assessment that after 20 you start to see an improvement that takes 60 sessions to make a difference.
But that's how the system works. Everyone argues for their own discipline and whichever one is in charge wins.
I think the oxygen treatments have helped. They haven't closed the wound but the wound looks healthier and Joyce's skin is better. And, frankly, nothing else has made an impact.
But Joyce is not a fan of them. And she's not a fan of the Wound VAC either. The dressing changes have become unbearably painful. And, as the wound care specialist visiting St. Francis from UCLA and USC told me the other day, you can't avoid that topical pain with systemic drugs like Narco.
So Dr. Tong will take her off the Wound VAC and return her to wet-to-dry dressings. Two a day. Performed by myself. With god-knows-what supplies.
At the same time Dr. Tong said she talked to Joyce's primary about long-term pain management and Dr. Brenman set up an appointment in two days with someone to discuss that.
But Joyce doesn't have chronic pain. She has pain when the dressing is removed.
Dr. Tong also said she talked to Dr. Fang, the surgeon who originally removed the sarcoma from Joyce's leg. A flap on that part of the leg is not likely to work because all the blood vessels are on the front of the leg, she said.
So we are in this sort of limbo of long-term wet-to-dry dressings. Except I don't think of this as sustainable. What happens when I get sick or incapacitated? What happens that day?
Ridiculous.
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FORTUNATELY THE SURGERY happened around dinner time this time. I was at my mother's when Dr. Tong left a voice message saying it had gone well, she had removed the slough and scar tissue and put in a wet-to-dry. Joyce would be released tomorrow.
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AS I WAS about to make dinner at 7:30, a nurse in the recovery room called to bring me up to date. I mentioned we had an appointment at the hyperbaric unit tomorrow so we'd like to arrange for her release in the morning.
She gave me a number to call at 7 a.m. to let them know.
Then I talked to Joyce, who was pretty groggy.
We usually have a filet mignon for dinner on Wednesday nights. I told her I would push it back until tomorrow night so she wouldn't miss it. She laughed.
Then I ate a bunch of leftovers and watched the Warriors beat Denver despite themselves and the exhausted Giants lose to the A's.
Somehow I felt more like a giant than a warrior.