Home at Last

A full two days after I expected to be let go, they finally discharged me. My surgeon even removed the dreaded malfunctioning feeding tube. The concern is that when you put one of those things in, it takes a while for healing to occur around it and you need that essential "scarring" to keep fluids and such from escaping the intestine into the body cavity thus becoming septic. That's not pretty at all.

At first, she actually had me convinced to keep it in for another week. Then she was taking a look at it, explaining how she would take the outer part out and just leave the "port" if you will there in the skin. She said she would just stitch up the part so there's no way for anything to get in from the outside.
"Or we can just take it out now," she said.
"What?" I couldn't believe it. " No! You said-"
"Nah, let's just take it out now. How bout this, I'll take it out now but I get you for one more day and you can go home tomorrow."
"I'd rather just keep it in then."

She eventually pulled it out AND let me go.

So here I am in my own bed and really happy about it. There's a bit of apprehension for no longer having a nursing staff on the other end of a button next to my bed. It's nice to have that assurance in my head. This is a difficult road to take but every day will become a bit easier.

And again, I appreciate the support of all my family and friends, old and new, near and far. Every time I start to get down or weepy or feel myself falling into a full-blown panic attack, I think of all the people who are pulling for me and I draw on that strength to recharge my own,