Surgery #1

Me, prior to any surgery

My ENT surgeon painted a clear and precise portrait...surgical removal of the primary tumor site along with a neck dissection to remove the majority of lymph nodes in my neck to check for any signs of disease infiltration.  Sounds simple enough.  There were many scans and tests performed on me in the remarkably few days between diagnosis and surgery, and no additional part of my body showed any evidence of the disease.  We had a plan and everything seemed to be going as well as it could, all things considered.  
The path was clear, surgery followed by radiation and then move on down the road.  Then we met with the radiation oncologist that we were referred to by my ENT surgeon.  He was convinced that my disease was much more advanced and that I needed to have a much more aggressive surgical approach and recommended I go see an ENT surgeon with MD Anderson.  So now I had two doctors who disagreed about my treatment path and they basically told me it was up to me to pick which way I wanted to go.  Luckily, all those years I spent in medical school prepared me well for the situation that I now found myself.  I met with one more radiation oncologist just to get another opinion, and after that I made the final decision on which direction I would go.  I ended up going with my original ENT surgeons plan and closed the door on any further discussions about possible alternatives.

Post-surgery...day 1

The surgery itself was a partial glossectomy along with a neck dissection.  I remember being very nervous going in to that first surgery and did not know what exactly to expect.  The most memorable part of that day was arriving at the hospital that morning and witnessing my father driving in to the parking lot.  I recognized his truck but was curious as to who it was that was driving.  At the time of my surgery, I was 34 years old.  For all 34 of those years, my father possessed a wonderful full beard.  He showed up that morning clean shaven for the first time in 40 something years.  That was awesome meant more to me than anyone will ever know.  
The first surgery went well, I think I left the hospital on the third day after surgery.  The worst part of the recovery was the unbelievably uncomfortable neck drains that I had on each side of my neck.  There was another cool adventure to be had when I went in to my doctors office to have the drains removed.  The process of drain removal is not that complicated...the stitches holding the drain in my neck are cut, and the tube is pulled out.  I did not realize, however, just how long these tubes were that had been in my neck.  They went in around my shoulder and apparently meandered around my neck and ended up at my ear.  The physician's assistant was the one who drew the short straw and had to remove them, and she got quite a show.  She pulled the first one out, it was the one on my left side, and I felt somewhat queasy when I could feel something around my ear move as she pulled on the tube.  That one came out, but I think she could tell by the look on my face that it was not a pleasant feeling and so she asked if I wanted to wait a while before pulling the next one.  I told her to just go ahead and get the other drain out of my damn neck so this whole thing could be done.  It just so happened that Leslye had also drawn the short straw and she was the one that took me to this appointment and was sitting in a chair next to where I was.  I remember the right side drain coming out, and I remember sitting there an looking over at Leslye while the PA was asking me if I was ok.  The last thing I remember was a feeling of not being in control of my own body and reaching out for Leslye as she stood next to me.  At the time I was sitting down, but the next thing I remember I was lying on my back with the two of them leaning over me with rather concerned looks on their faces.  Apparently I had just passed out after the neck drains were removed.  All I remember is bright light and someone standing beside me comforting me in a way that made me very calm.  The scene around me in reality was not calm at all.  The PA threw open the door to the room we were in and started yelling at the nurses to call 911 and get the crash cart.  She then started to beat the living crap out of my chest (I guess in an attempt to wake me up) and was going to start CPR.  It was at that point, I suppose, that I awoke and confusedly asked them what was going on.  They got me a sprite and we went along our merry way!  After that, it was just a lot of rest and then I gradually got back in to working and living life again normally.