It's a good thing I'm not terribly sensitive about my appearance.
I knew that surgery to my throat would mean a visible scar. I was a tiny bit worried about it, but not too much. I have all kinds of scars, surgical and otherwise, and they don't bother me. I knew from a previous surgery that this particular surgeon left small scars that faded easily, so that was a comfort, as well.
A week or so after I left the hospital, I ran into a friend while out shopping. She asked how I was doing, and noticed a healing wound. "Did they do it laparascopically?" she asked, noticing that the wound seemed small.
"No. That's the surgical drain," I said. Tilting my head back, I said, "This is the scar." She gasped and visibly recoiled. "OH MY GOSH," she said.
I've gotten that reaction more than once. My oldest daughter squirmed, shook her hands and said, "EW EW EW!" the first time she saw it. My husband opined that I look as if "you've had surgery by Sweeney Todd." (A few years ago, only theater geeks would have understood the reference, but now all Johnny Depp fans get it as well.)
My family noticed, as did I, that the other patients on my floor who'd had similar surgeries had simple bandages across their throats, right in the hollow. Sometimes they had a single cotton ball with a strip of tape. I had square of gauze about six inches square across my neck, with bloody rubber tubing snaking out from underneath.
Before I had my grossly enlarged, nodule ridden thyroid removed, the surgeon came into my hospital room and marked my neck right along the natural crease, so he'd know where to cut. The actual cut, about four inches long, is therefore pretty hard to see.
The opening for the drain actually annoys me more. The tubing was held in place by a stitch on either side. When the nurse removed it, she warned me, repeatedly over a few hours, that it would "really hurt." "This has a really wide mouth that flares out under the skin," she said. She had me take deep breaths and brace myself; I was anticipating some real pain. I hardly felt anything.
The cut itself was almost an inch long. The nurse put a SteriStrip over it to hold it closed. She also clipped the stitches across my throat and SteriStripped it before I went home.
("Are you going to wear a scarf or something over that when you go out in public?" my mother wanted to know. "Nope," I said. For one thing, it was August. For another, I think that the general public can handle evidence of surgery. If they can't, oh, well.)
The surgery site appeared to heal well. The drain, however, did not. Ten days after the surgery, I sent this note to two best friends:
Reason 378 Why The Office Staff at My Surgeon's Office Drives Me Crazy
So. My incision is healing nicely, with what looks to be a thin scar, tucked into the fold of my neck. This is what I expected, based on the last time he operated on me and pre op conversations.
The drain opening (I have a drain in my neck!) is another story. When the nurse took out the tubing, she just made one of the SteriStrips for my neck incision a bit longer than the others so it would cover the hole and, in theory, seal it.
It's almost an inch long, and it's not sealing up. TMI alert! Graphic bodily info coming! They told me that if it became obviously infected - smelled bad, had pus, was inflamed and/or draining - I should call them. It hasn't done any of those things, but the SteriStrip was still across it the 2nd day out of the hospital when I noticed that the gap was widening. In the gap (warning! warning!) it looked yellow and shiny. The yellow shininess didn't rub off when I cleaned with gauze, so it's a solid. It's also not a scab. I have come to the conclusion that I'm looking at the subcutaneous fat. The gap is getting wider and wider; it's now about an 1/8 to 1/4 of an inch wide.
I change the bandage twice a day, because it looks too gross to just leave open. I finally decide to call the surgeon's office - always a treat involving phone tag - to see if I can come in and maybe get a stitch or two put in.
Nurse: It'll close on its own.
Me: It's not closing. That's the problem.
Nurse: But it will close. It won't stay open forever.
Me: It's been 10 days. It's getting wider and wider. Do you think that after 10 days those two pieces of skin will reach out and grab onto each other somehow?
Nurse: It heals from the inside out. It'll start healing on the inside. You can put a bandage on it if you want.
Me: It's never been WITHOUT a bandage. They SteriStripped it in the hospital, and I've had a bandage on it ever since that came off.
Nurse: He generally doesn't put stitches in those.
Me: Generally, they heal. This one isn't closing. Do you think perhaps I could have the doctor look at it to see if he needs to treat it?
Nurse: He'll look at it at your follow up appointment.
I finally browbeat her into giving me an appointment tomorrow. I also asked for the results of the biopsy, and pointed out that I'd called on Monday to ask for those results, and hadn't gotten a call back.
Nurse: What labs? I don't see that we have any labs here.
Me: THE BIOPSY. Of the thyroid that was REMOVED last week.
(I mean, I'm just waiting here to find out if I have cancer. No big deal. Don't trouble yourself.)
Nurse: Oh! Well, I'll leave a note for the doctor to call you.
Never mind. I'll see him tomorrow.
I like my surgeon, but his office staff makes me almost want to resort to violence.
The next day, the surgeon was at least clear and brief. "If I put stitches in that, it'll seal in the infection and it'll get worse." He recommended slathering it in antibiotic cream twice a day, which I was already.
It eventually did heal, but it's very noticeable. It's lumpy, and much wider than the actual surgery site. Maybe I should be glad that people notice it and not the big one.
The biopsy was negative, by the way. No cancer. The chance was small, but it was there. It was good news.
One of my friends is a medical professional, and every time he sees me he handles my throat. "Look at that! It looks great! The swelling is going down!" he says. That makes me happy, too.
