A View into Alzheimer's

Lynn had surgery today. Before I get to deep into it, it went fine. She now has a "power port" in her chest which is now a direct access for chemotherapy and any test-related injections. She has pain which we hope goes away soon as she is only on extra-strength Tylenol. She is eating and drinking again, but is also back on the anti-nausea medication.

We got there at 1:30pm for the paperwork and preliminaries, but unfortunately the hospital was backed up because of an emergency patient (or that's what I heard). We were supposed to be in surgery by 3pm, but we didn't leave the room until 3:30pm. Surgery was supposed to be relatively quick (30-45min + 30min post-op recovery) and then I'd get to see her. I didn't see the doctor until 5pm. I was supposed to wait 15 minutes and then call the recovery room to see her or they'd come and find me.

I call in 15 and they say she's still recovering and would come to get me when they were ready (she was ready? they had time? who knows?). They came 5 minutes later and walked me to her room. This next paragraph relates one of the hardest moments of my life. The waiting to see her, paled in comparison.

I got to the room and she was hysterical. No idea where she was or why she was there. When she said my name I almost cried. It was the first thing out of her mouth--meaning she recognized who I was. I spent the next thirty minutes trying to calm her down by holding her hand and letting her know it was ok and by just getting her to breathe slowly (she was hyperventilating). By the end of about an hour she was calm (though nauseous) and had almost a complete recollection (at least as much as she would ever have). She remembered up to the point the anesthesiologist started the drugs to a foggy point when I was there with her (and a brief recollection waking up in a bed with ugly striped curtains). We were able to leave somewhere closer to 7pm.

For those of you out there who deal with Alzheimer's, I poignantly feel your suffering. In that brief moment today I saw what it might be like living with someone you love dearly when they have no recollection of the world around them. Then again, I was lucky--Lynn recognized me.