Immediate Concerns: Tomorrow will be two weeks since the surgery. I can't say that I remotely have my energy back yet (it has improved), and still have a bit of the edema from a week's worth of IV fluids (it was quite bad at times...flying while having it was deeply uncomfortable), but I feel on the upswing. The only sensation that I'd describe as close to "pain" is when I unexpectedly cough or sneeze; otherwise, things are golden.

So...confession time. I've been vague about exactly what was done that day, and I'm in the mood to talk about it, oddly enough. I'd long known that I had a small tumor in my liver, but was told that it was inoperable, had likely spread, removal wouldn't help, etc. Not good news, in other words, and chemo had only been partially successful in getting it under control. Since my visit to NIH in late July, the team told me that removal was exactly what they were going to do, but didn't tell me precisely how big of an operation this was going to be. (I was told that the day before.)  At one of the pre-op orientations with the anesthesia team, I was asked whether I'd had any operations before. "Sure", I replied, then began to list some of them. I was quickly stopped. "This is much bigger than any of those." Oh. Uh, okay.

That night, the surgeon (Dr. G., a veritable rock star to my mind...she was nice enough to call Barbara during and after the operation to let her know that I was all right, as well) stopped by my room to tell me the details about the procedure. I told her that I was looking at liver resections on YouTube (true...you can find just about anything on that ridiculous site, haha) and she told me the exact name of the procedure (which I've forgotten...sorry). No links, but if you're curious, look for "liver resection Couinaud segments 6 7". It's fascinating stuff, but not for the gentle-minded. And yes, it's true that the liver does regenerate of a sort, but it's more of a compensatory growth than a true return to form. Anyway, long story short...no more cancer in my liver, which is what's important.

Next week's visit to NIH involves apheresis to remove some lymphocytes from my blood; it's an outpatient visit, so I should be free to go by mid-day. It's my understanding that these will be "coded" with the remaining tumor's genetic sequence. (I've asked twice whether this is above and beyond the parameters of the study, and received an answer in the affirmative both times.)