I’m writing this from the waiting room of the surgery center where The Girl is about to undergo a port revision procedure. This surgery is intended to accomplish two things:

• Remove painful scar tissue surrounding her port.
• Resuture her port so it stays in place better (her port is, as they say, moblie).

If you’d like to learn more about the surgery The Girl provided details and links in a comment on her post yesterday.

5:57 AM: We arrived, The Girl signed in and paid. All the standard doctor stuff.

6:04 AM: They took The Girl and told me I could see her before the procedure. This is when she gets dressed in that awesome doesn’t-cover-a-damn-thing outfit and goes through the pre-op steps.

6:37 AM: I got to see The Girl for a couple minutes, as promised, before she was wheeled in for the procedure. The doctor was there, too, and The Girl asked about her next fill. He said a week or so, and the nurse asked for confirmation that it wasn’t happening today. He replied, “probably not.”

After that she told me she’d be in recovery for about an hour following the procedure. She also said they put her in an adult diaper this time.

She mentioned that last bit after I told her I was blogging this, so I can only assume an implied endorsement for sharing that with you.

I also assume that she’ll be thrilled when she sees this picture I took:

I assume lots of things!

7:04 AM: This is a little off-topic, but I can’t stay silent any longer: morning news is horrid. Waiting rooms need something else. Maybe a puppy.

I swear, if these anchors had made one more bad joke about the cocaine found in the shuttle’s hanger I might have snapped.

7:21 AM: The doctor came out and let me know that it went well. He said the port is now much more secure, and a good bit of scar tissue that was probably causing problems was removed. He also said he put a little more fluid in there; I imagine she’ll be happy about that.

I asked if it would be about an hour before I got to see her, and he said it would probably be sooner than that.

7:38 AM: “Break out the thongs!”

You’re on television to report the weather, Mr. Weatherman, not make little quips that inexplicably send your annoying co-worker into a giggly tizzy. Please stop.

Thanks.

8:14 AM: I was taken back to be reunited. The Girl was doing much better than ger last surgery (getting the band), but still groggy.

That’s my Girl!

She mentioned that they intebated, which caused a sore throat. There was also a sore, discolored spot under her tongue. The nurse said she didn’t know what could have caused it.

The nurse also said there was no gas this time, so there shouldn’t be as much discomfort. The Girl opted for extra-strength tylenol instead of narcotics, saying her pain was a six out of ten.

We were given the typical no driving-no decisions-no machines warnings, instructions to have someone stay with her today (that’s me!), I signed the responsible person release, and then I brought the car around. The Girl got in with minimal trouble and we left at almost exactly 8:30 AM, making the total time spent there just over three and a half hours.

The bumps on the ride home didn’t agree with her, but that’s to be expected. She said sitting was worse than standing or laying down, so that didn’t help either.

It’s about 9:45 AM now, we’ve been back home for about half an hour, and she’s sleeping (with a few extra pillows, a heating pad, and Teddy Bear, of course).

I’ll be answering any questions you have for me in the comments; ask ‘em if you’ve got ‘em!