The Return of Tracey Frankenbowel

The big news is Tracey’s belly button’s back in the middle of her stomach, give or take.

Not only did Dr Jason Brown and his FAB team remove Tracey’s drain and bag, they also cut out the skin graft they put in at the end of last year.  Apparently, the skin came together so well they even considered attacking the hernias but, as Tracey explained to me, they decided there was so much happening inside Tracey’s tum-tum they wanted to make sure that went well first.

“Are they worried about something?” I asked her.

“There’s a twenty percent chance when they fix a perforation it can go south,” she said. “And they found three.”

My stomach dropped.

“Shit,” I said. “What does that mean? What happens if it ‘goes south’?”

“He suggested we don’t talk about that.”

“Shit,” I repeated. “You worried?”

I was worried.

Tracey shrugged.

“I’ve done okay on worse odds,” she said.

She had an excellent point.

But I confess coming into this I saw the whole operation as a nerve wrecking but fairly routine procedure. And now there were double figure risks. Times three.

“How will we know?”

“I guess I’ll get sick,” said Tracey, Queen of Understatement.  “Don’t worry. I just have to get through to Monday.”

“Why?”

“Because day four to seven are when things tend to….go south.”

Which probably explains why some of the doctors visiting Tracey’s bedside over the weekend have hinted she might be coming home to us as soon as Monday.

I hope they’re right. Fingers crossed.

Raising a family on little more than laughs

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