Okay, you don’t have to “like” or comment on this one. Many did for the previous post, and I am floored and touched at the response to my health-related posts. Thanks, guys. It means a lot.
That said, as we all know, I do not want to be accused of sadfishing. This isn’t a “poor Greg” thing. As mentioned before, I just find the whole MS, hospital, PT clinic thing weird and I want to share my surreal journey. And as Kate would approve: it’s relatable content.
So, to business: The operation went well. It could have gone three hours, but I skated through in an hour. Now get this: the bloody thing was disconnected! All that technical mumbo-jumbo about what could have been wrong with the catheter … disconnected. [sigh] Yep, of course that happened.
I am now in my hospital room reading Darwin. I have learned some very interesting things about duck bones.
The surgeon dialed my pump down to 75 micrograms a day—from 468; we will now start this whole thing over again. It will be 20-30 percent at a time. And when we see results is anyone’s guess. President Harris might be at the 100-day stretch. Who knows??
I’d say I’m getting the hang of this oversharing thing. Okay, on second thought, you damn-well better like this post. I’m very sensitive.
Photos: pre-op, recovery, room
