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So I’m home. Sore, which I think is going to get worse over the next few days. I’m under some restrictions about what I can do and lift, but not too much all in all considering what I went though.

It seems everyone you meet has a hospital horror story and I have to say the pleasant part of this adventure was the staff at St. Joseph’s. From Patricia, the check-in nurse to Talya the nurse that got me out the door the staff was pleasant, caring and treated me very well. The staffs in the ICU, on both shifts, were absolutely fantastic.  From the time I entered the door until I was placed in the car I don’t think I could have been under any better care anywhere in the world or by better, nicer people. The staff made an experience I was leery of as pleasant and comfortable as possible.

One of the ICU nurses was a little shocked when I asked her if I could smoke. I was kidding because I don’t smoke, I gave it up years ago and can hardly stand to be near a smoker, she caught on quickly, but her initial reaction was priceless.

The mass, from what I understand at this point, wasn’t what the doctor expected. I’ll find out more later when I visit him for the post op. I do know it was full of some sort of pus and test are going to be run to see if what it is can be determined what it actually is. I had to speak to an Infectious Disease doctor and he said it could be bacteria, a fungus, of some form of TB. He asked me a number of questions about where I lived in the past, where I was stationed, what type of pets I owned. Question after question. It may be six weeks before any results or in and they may not be conclusive. The  Infectious Disease doc had to clear me leaving the hospital. It’s the never ending drama.

On a very sad note: today is the 10 year anniversary of my Brother Jerry’s sudden death. There are so many good things he has missed. I wish he would have known Sara and Evan because he would have been a great Uncle.