Author: Doug Rutherford

As 2011 fades into the distance, as it already has in parts of the world, I sit back and think of what the year brought. No, I do not cheer the passing of each year. Every year brings the bad as well as the good and I like to think that I would rather look fondly on the good things that happened in the year than focus on the negative. This is probably one reason why I don’t go out and celebrate New Year’s Eve.

I suppose our biggest news of the past year involved multiple trips to the hospital and surgery on several occasions. Considering that all came out well, and the problem left untreated could well have had somewhat final consequences, I think it was all to the good. Heck, I even lost a few pounds that I really should have shed years ago, albeit using a somewhat less drastic method. I’m healthy again and lighter. Double bonus! I also get to remind my siblings that my issues are hereditary and each of them has a 50% chance of going through the same thing so, getting checked out now is a good thing. I’d like to be selfish with my health problems, please and thank you.

We met new people and had good times. We did get camping a few times, and the little camping we did will only make camping in the New Year more appreciated. OK, I didn’t get fishing at all. Yes, that’s bad. However, we have a new boat and a new outboard and it will make fishing a lot easier to achieve since the camper can pull this boat and trailer and we don’t have to take two vehicles to the campground. Two trips out and back each way does take some of the fun out of it and this is now a thing of the past. And, the fish won’t recognize the new boat and hide in fear when they know I’m coming.

So, we’ll end this year on a few high points. I’m healing quite nicely. Clara is getting a new cell phone. We’re buying a friend’s treadmill. The family is healthy. What more could I ask for, other than something involving the lottery…

Well, I’m a bit sore after slipping yesterday so I’m not going to get a lot done today. I do have to scoot out to the grocery store and pick up a few things for dinner tomorrow.  All told, a quiet Christmas eve.

I do have one tradition left. I really don’t think Christmas is complete until I put out the seeds for the birds and Grumpy, the squirrel. I’m not sure Grumpy is that grateful for Christmas as he expects me to feed him the rest of the year. But, it really is the one Christmas tradition I really keep.

Oh, I do have one more. Merry Christmas to one and all. If you don’t keep Christmas, and I know many who do not, I’m going to cheat and extend another wish in keeping with the season: peace on earth and good will towards all…

T’was the night before the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a moose.

Or something along those lines.

I popped into work today to get a few things done that had to be finished before the term starts and I go back to work for real in January. It was a relaxed day with lots of Merry Christmas-ing and hugging. Then, at lunch time, I had to take a run downtown and discovered a truly icy patch on the sidewalk. Down I went after a short period of hang time. I knew I was going so just went with it, which probably reduced the amount of owies I received. I’ve found that if you try to fight it and stiffen up, you only end up with more injuries.

I did have to check to make sure I did nothing to my incision. Fortunately, I have not developed any leaks. I’m still sore but am now quite glad the surgeon decided that my staples weren’t ready to come out. They probably held things together and I really don’t want new ones. My poor old knee didn’t enjoy it, either.

I did stick my head into the barbershop where I fell and suggested they put a little salt down. I could have been a bit more grumpy about it, since they saw me go flying and no one came out to see if I was more or less intact. Oh, well. My Christmas spirit seems to have come early. And now, with my aches, I think I’m going to open some Christmas spirit in liquid form and have a black, Demeraran pain killer with coke.

End result: I did not get to the post office to mail the Christmas cards. I’m beginning to think they’re jinxed…

Needless to say, being laid up before Christmas has meant that I’m a little behind the times. This is complicated by the fact that Clara has been getting over a bug and isn’t driving either. Someone posted a picture on Facebook this morning that said what I want for Christmas is more time before Christmas. I could do with that, myself.

However, we are soldiering on. Katrina is coming over to help with the Christmas decorations. Getting the tree up would be good. I did hang the outside lights weeks before surgery, since there was a mild spell and I figured I’d take advantage of it. I have bought most of the Christmas cards and only done some of the shopping, so that needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later. I’m hoping to get the cards out later today. I did cheat and e-mail last year’s Christmas picture to some people. It’s crass, but effective.

Note: if your card or package shows up late, there are 12 days of Christmas…

More surgery tomorrow morning. And, since the hospital doesn’t have internet access for patients, I’m sort of reduced to Blackberry access with 3 G… which means, here, Good Glorious God, it’s slow. Therefore, since posting here using my phone is tedious at best, I’ll be gone for a week or so.

See you on the other side.

Doug

I am becoming constantly amazed at the level of debate on news web sites, such as that of the CTV, CBC, National Post, Globe and Mail, etc. Really, I’m amazed more at the lack of the level of debate.

Everyone has the right to their opinion. Everyone has the right to express it. I am more than willing to agree with this. However, many people have a tendency to public express opinions of subjects on which they have little or no knowledge and base this profound prose on things like old wives’ tales, political party affiliation, or just plain ignorance.

I’ve read comments on the recent housing crisis at Attawapiskat and wonder why some people feel the urge to offer “their two cents worth.” If you do not have even a little knowledge of northern reserves, the Indian Act, and how financial administration works for First Nations on reserves, you probably shouldn’t be offering your “wisdom.” Bluntly, it has been hard not to respond to most of these comments with the suggestion that they are giving inbred, white trash a bad name. Many of these comments are blatantly rascist and many approach the bounds of hate speech. I’ll spare you the comments as there are lots of examples from lots of online locations to choose from.

Why can people feel so easily about expressing such drivel? It’s easy, since most of these online bulletin boards allow people to post anonymously. While the idea is essentially a sound one in theory, it has fallen down in practical application. Many abuse this process and political parties/lobbyists frequently hire marketing companies to post on them. The federal government has used public funds for this purpose.

These are often easily discernible when the language of such posts are worded in party talking points and often contain substantial amounts of grammar and spelling errors so they look like the handiwork of “regular Canadians.” I don’t so much mind this marketing ploy. After all, if I was the leader of a political party and my communications director wasn’t doing this, I’d have a different communications director rather quickly.  My issue is the demeaning idea marketing companies have that regular Canadians can’t spell.

I think now that it is time that online news agencies change their online board posting rules so that people can only post under their own names and that their identity be verifiable. Maybe people wouldn’t be so quick to put forward stupid comments when it was obvious who they were. Maybe people would be a little less willing to describe the problems of ethnic groups in terms of stereotypes. And maybe, just maybe, the boards could actually function in a manner for which most were originally intentioned, a venue for informed debate on current events. Until such time, they are useless…

The title says everything here, I think. That being said, a given a certain degree of squeamishness and calls of “TMI,” I discovered last night that a few more details may be in order.

I was slightly curious of the perception of my state when one of the local papers contacted me about possibly doing a story on my problems a few weeks ago. I declined, since I couldn’t possibly see any angle that would make the story interesting. Now, I see where they may have been heading. The conversation last night suggested that they may try to contact me again. The reasons given were to cover my problems from my botched surgery and the fact that it had to be done here because the territorial government wouldn’t cover the cost of sending me south to have it done. I’m not sure how that rumour got started, but maybe I should clarify a few points in case others have misconstrued my surgical adventures of the summer. Here are the two main facts you should know before we go any further:

1. My first surgery was not botched. I had a resection leak, as it does in 5% of all resections, because the point were the colon was rejoined didn’t heal. No, the doctor was not at fault. Think of it in these terms. If Alex screwed up the first operation, why would I be looking forward to him doing my final surgery next week?
2. The idea of being sent outside has never been brought up. Honestly, I’m quite proud that we have the capability to treat our own citizens for a broad range of surgical procedures here, rather than having to rely on some other jurisdiction to do it for us. Even if I was sent out, and incidentally, I’m glad I wasn’t for logistical reasons if nothing else, chances are I would have had the same surgeon, since he has a practice here and in Vancouver (note the nice segue to point number 1).

The main points above should illustrate how things are. Now, with them being said, here comes the details. Those who aren’t interested should probably stop reading now. I mention that since one of my brothers gets a bit antsy if either Clara or I mention the word “colonoscopy” on Facebook, since that’s “inappropriate.” I tend to point out the the main underlying causes of my problem are a) it can be hereditary and b) being over 40. On a personal note, I think point “b” beats the crap out of not making it to 40.

My problem started with a condition called diverticulosis. This is where, either from inheriting it or living long enough, your colon grows little pouches. Since my father has had much the same surgery I had and my older brother has had the same issue, I’m suspecting it’s inherited. If these pouches become inflamed, you have diverticulits. When this happens, the pouches can grow and seek vascular tissue to connect to in other parts of the abdominal cavity. Like the ad used to say, reach out and touch someone. My colon got really friendly and reached out and touched a bunch of things. One of those was my bladder. It poked a hole, forming a connection between the bladder and the colon, also known as a coenteric fistula.

This, while reasonably rare, and more common in women than men, is a bad thing. As one doctor mentioned, if left untreated can be “kind of fatal.” Basically, your urinary tract is a sterile system and introducing bacteria that don’t belong there provides a constant illustration of the idea of the bladder and kidney infections from Hell. This, by the way, is the main reason why I lost 40 pounds between June and the end of August.

My first surgery, which took longer than expected, was to remove the inflamed portion of the colon, about 7 inches, patch the hole in my bladder and pack abdominal fat between the bladder and colon to prevent it from recurring. This was quite successful even though I did require more surgery. Where the colon was resected, however, did not totally heal, leaving me a leak the size of the tip of a ballpoint pen. Needless to say, having the contents of your colon leaking into the abdominal cavity is another bad thing, so I had surgery to repair that a week later. Given the leak, my surgeons opted to give my colon a little vacation.

As part of the second surgery, I had a loop ileostomy done, where part of the small intestine is pulled through the wall of your abdomen. This leaves you using an ostomy device to collect the small intestine’s contents. Needless to say, this is an inconvenient and annoying situation and more high maintenance than a 1980s vintage Volvo was. Ignoring the more obvious issues, the dietary restrictions alone are enough to drive me crazy. Given the propensity of any mechanical system to eventually fail, accidents occur with the appliance and these aren’t a lot of fun to deal with either. I also realise, though, that there are many people in my shoes who do not have the advantage of having this being a temporary situation because of either colon cancer or far more serious colon afflictions than mine.

So, next week, for those curious, I’m off to have my ileostomy reversed. If you read my blog post from three weeks ago, I had a sigmoidoscopy and got to see my wonderfully healed colon from the inside… on television no less. I’m looking forward to the end of my problems, to say the least of the situation.

So these, in slightly less than a thousand words, are the full details of my surgical endeavours. Hopefully, those not really wanting this level of detail stopped reading earlier…

I eagerly await my final surgery, which was tentatively scheduled for December 8th. I say tentatively, since it was largely dependent upon the results of tests on Friday. After all, why finish the repair job until you were sure the last repair had completely healed.

This is particularly important since, after the first surgery, I painfully learned that it had not healed and sprung a leak at my colon resection a week after the surgery… and on the day I was probably going to be discharged from the hospital. This made Friday an important day. End result: all has healed quite nicely, although there is some inflammation at the site of the second repair job. In short, my December 8 surgery date is now fixed and I can’t wait (looking forward to surgery is a good sign, right?)

In case you’re wondering how such an “inspection” takes place, picture a camera and light on a tube, the easiest point of access and run with that idea. Remember, the light at the end of the tunnel may not be a train. It could be your surgeon.

And, since the inspection was only the area of the surgery, there was no anaesthesia. Yup, that meant I got to watch this time. For what it’s worth, seeing the inside of your colon on television is actually rather neat when you get used to the concept, particularly when you see surgical staples sticking through the side of it. Although, I don’t mind taking the odd TV gig, that wasn’t what I normally had in mind…