My Staycation in Anchorage, Part Five, All the Gory Details (NOT)

 

ALL THE GORY DETAILS (NOT)

The closer the date of my surgery came, the more stressed I was.   I knew it wasn’t doing me any good, but with my history of unusual reactions to procedures and certain medications, I thought I was right to worry. 

One day, I thought, I might not make it through another reaction.

An all-text post is boring so here's a nice photo that has nothing at all to do with the post subject:

This was the view from my loft windows at sunset.

Then, I came up with a semi-solution.   I lay in bed at night and imagined every step of the events right up to being wheeled into the surgical suite.   It worked, even though my imagined steps didn’t occur in real life, my repeated imagined scenarios calmed down my nerves.

The day before the big event, Diane and I went to Anchorage and checked into our hotel room.   The layout of the suite was perfect, affording me a place to rest quietly and Diane a separate area to work on her craft items or read.

I had a suitcase with cartons of bone broth, Gatorade, and protein shakes that I would consume on my restricted “clear liquids only” diet post-surgery.

All went well on the big day.  Check-in was amazing, the three pre-op tests the surgeon required were done easily and at my bedside, and I was wheeled into the surgical suite.   I’d had a chance to speak with the anesthesiologist beforehand so he was ready for me.

The nurse relieved me of my dentures and I said I wasn’t speaking or answering questions anymore.   That drew some chuckles.

A mask went over my face and I was soon in lala-land.  

The next thing I knew, it was the middle of the afternoon. A nurse awakened me in recovery and said she would keep me a little longer until my blood pressure stabilized.

The surgery lasted three hours.   Five small incisions were made so the surgeon could insert and manipulate the laparoscopic tools—three near my waist, one off to the right side, and the fifth in the center of my midriff.

Having watched an online video of a similar procedure, I knew the surgeon had a long job ahead of him as once the stomach herniated through the diaphragm, connective tissues grew on it and the esophagus to hold them in place.

When he freed them, he pulled the stomach into place below the diaphragm—the site of its initial installation at birth—and stitched the hiatus (the opening through the diaphragm) back to a smaller size.

I found out later that the hiatus, where food in the esophagus empties into the stomach, is normally the size of a U.S. quarter.  Mine was FOUR INCHES!!   That doesn’t mean the tissue was torn, but that the muscles had separated.   Still!!  No wonder I hurt.

Then came a procedure called a fundoplication.    I searched the internet for a video that described the procedure I had and came up with this one.   It isn’t exact, as my surgeon tightened the hiatal opening, and I think did only a quarter or half-wrap of the stomach.

Plus, this is an animated video so it’s not really gory.

 

The difference in the video to my situation was that my entire stomach had slipped through the diaphragm and was above it.

Why am I going into so much detail about my medical situation? Because of the estimated number of people in the U.S. suffer from hiatal hernias.

Here's the chart: 

 

The prevalence of hiatal hernias increases with age. It is estimated that: 

• 10-20% of adults have a hiatal hernia
• 50-60% of adults over 50 have a hiatal hernia
• 70-80% of adults over 70 have a hiatal hernia 

"Gastroesophageal reflux disease is a condition in which stomach acid repeatedly flows back up into the tube connecting the mouth and stomach, called the esophagus. It's often called GERD for short. This backwash is known as acid reflux, and it can irritate the lining of the esophagus.”

That acid irritation can lead to BIG problems, including cancer.

 

 

You’re welcome.