On 9/13, I underwent an open low anterior resection of my sigmoid colon, partial liver resection, cholecystectomy, and implantation of a hepatic artery infusion system. Sapana and I checked into a hotel in Manhattan the night before so that I could perform my pre-surgical bowel prep in chic, urban style. At that point, I was already an expert in that clear liquid diet/laxative life. Yet, prepping my mind and body for the days to come was uncharted territory.

Granted, as an anesthesiologist, I have some working knowledge of the “peri- operative experience.” I decided that I would not go down the wormholes of imagining what I would look like laying on an OR table with my eyes taped and a tube sticking out of my mouth (good Halloween costume?). Instead, I would focus more on meeting the criteria that I knew would get me the hell out of the hospital as soon as possible.

I thought briefly about using this space to discuss the details of the various tubes, catheters, and incisions that I acquired but I think for the sake of decorum, if you really want to know about that stuff, just give me a call.

Getting yourself discharged from the hospital after major abdominal surgery has just a few basic criteria: walking, peeing, eating, not getting an infection, and of course the most important, farting. To be clear, don’t expect to dance out the door. Rather, position yourself such that your care team has to say, “there is nothing more that we can do for you here that you and your family can’t do at home.”

And so 4 days later I slowly walked out of MSK and went back to my home. It was Sunday so obviously we had to stop at a sports bar and watch some football first. Unfortunately during my admission, my older son contracted Covid and passed it on to the entire family. As if Sapana didn’t have enough work ahead of her watching over me, she now had to mask up and also take care of our boys single-handedly. There is not enough room here to thoroughly explain what Sapana has done for our family through this experience. Ultimately I would not have even made it to this point without her. I can only selfishly hope that I never have to repay this debt in similar fashion.

The recovery process is humbling. In a span of mere days my body has become forever changed. Achieving the goals of bending over, standing, pooping, and walking has supplanted Peloton PRs and running hills.

And yet, every day is a little better than the previous. I am walking faster. I am off pain medication. I am eating tasty things. I am playing with my children. Most importantly, I am slowly getting back to meeting my most important criteria: being useful.

Yesterday we met my physicians at MSK to discuss my surgery results. We were relieved to hear that my surgery yielded an extremely good result, such that my adjuvant chemotherapy starting in two weeks will not have to be as aggressive as the initial treatments. While pleased to hear this, I am still willing to stand and absorb whatever needs to be thrown my way. There is a light at the end of this tunnel. But now is not the time for complacency. Now is the time to understand that cancer is a tunnel that cannot be fully escaped. Part of me will always dwell in that tunnel. But if the rest of me is out on the other side with my family and friends, I think I would be ok with that.

With love,

Sachin