Health

My first (and hopefully only required) surgery

NOTE: I’ve updated this post on May 25 with a few edits, nothing major, just mostly fleshing things out as I remember the details.

Yesterday (Friday), I checked into Vancouver General Hospital for my first-ever surgery at 8:30 a.m. I was to undergo about a two-hour procedure to remove a fatty mass my surgeon described as the size of a “big marble.” The mass had to go because:

  • It could grow and cause problems for other organs (namely my lungs or heart, since it was in the middle of my chest).
  • It could turn cancerous, which would be bad fort obvious cancer-y reasons.

I’ve never had surgery before and I got to experience a few firsts. Unsurprisingly, none of them are things I’d want to experience again.

The check-in process was quite elaborate, most of which involved disinfecting myself before going into the operating room. I also got the first of three IVs inserted, all of which went on my right hand and two of which were inserted while I was under. My favourite part was killing the bacteria in my nose, which involved holding a device in my nose for two minutes while wearing dark glasses:

Not seen: The blue swab they shoved up each nostril and scrubbed with.

After this, I spoke with the surgeon, the resident, the anesthesiologist and got the lowdown on what would happen. The anesthesiologist confessed he’d never been under himself, so could only promise to add my experience upon waking up to those of others. He did confirm I’d be out in about 15–30 seconds after the IV started. I then got into my OR jammies and they wheeled me into the OR, which was rather chilly. There was a lot of chatter, which I’d been advised of, then they had me breathe in some oxygen through a mask because who doesn’t love oxygen?

After the third breath, I found it was several hours later, and I was in the recovery unit, with no memory of anything in-between, including speaking to the anesthesiologist in the recovery unit, who asked me what my name was and questions like that. I didn’t feel groggy or weird, and had enough drugs in me that I wasn’t feeling pain or much of anything.

The nurse attending wanted me to pee and gave me a bottle, like I was an Amazon warehouse worker. I tried and usually, I can go pretty much on demand because that’s how my bladder rolls, so to speak. But it’s common for people post-anesthesia to have difficulty, and I was also being rattled by the voice of a woman somewhere else in the room who kept regularly yelping at something being done to her. But I could only produce a tiny smidgen and proof of peeing was not sufficient. Out came the catheter, something I’d never had before.

And I was surprised. It wasn’t painful, just ever-so-slightly uncomfortable. I still told the nurse it was the least fun my penis ever had. I blame the anesthesia1Fun fact: I can never type this word correctly, I have to use the spelling checker to fix it every time.

In time, I was moved to the main recovery unit, which was semi-private and had a few other beds in it. I scored, though, getting the corner unit which had a window with a view of City Hall (the building with a flag on it):

It looks east so I got to watch the sunrise, which was neat.

On the other hand, the bed next to mine was occupied by Sir Snores-a-Lot, who could fall asleep instantly and start snoring just as fast. But I also felt bad for him because he had to get a suppository, which was one of the few things I didn’t get.

I spent the rest of Friday in my bed, with my bottle, and got served hospital food for dinner, and it was very hospital food.

I’m not sure what PUR mashed potatoes are. Pureed? Potatoes that PUR?

This dinner actually sounds pretty good! But it took a few bites to realize the fish was fish and the florets were pretty sad. The butterscotch pudding was nice, something I haven’t had since I was a kid.

As I laid in the bed, I came to realize they’d attached a lot of stuff to me in the OR:

  • Two additional IVs, both on my right hand (total: 3).
  • A draining tube on the left side of my chest.
  • Pads and a finger clip for blood pressure readings, which they did regularly.
  • Other pads to monitor vitals (five total).
  • And not forgetting the two incisions for the surgery itself.

I also had over the course of my visit:

  • Two x-rays. The first was a portable machine brought to my bed, the second they wheeled me down to the ground floor (I was on the 12th) to a very cold room and had me stand in front of the x-ray machine. I was then wheeled to a holding area for an intern to take me back up and had time to contemplate my navel and such.
  • Blood work. This went smoothly.
  • A shot for blood thinning, due to the risk of clots post-surgery. This also went smoothly.
  • The aforementioned catheter.
  • Pills, pills, pills! And a few pain drugs delivered by IV. They were giving me three Tylenol every four hours and sometimes a small opioid for extra zesty pain relief. I got a prescription for some to take home, with the attendant sheet in the bag that warns how opioids are addictive, deadly, terrible and so on. I stopped taking them after the first night, but have a few left if the pain returns.
  • I’m sure there’s more. It may come to me when I am further away from post-surgery brain.

The one night I was there I found it difficult to sleep because of the extreme soreness. This is not surprising. When I look at where they made the incisions on my left side, between the ribs, and where the mass was–right in the centre of my chest, that’s quite the journey through my guts. Still better than the medieval days when they would have cracked open my ribcage. I mostly closed my eyes and drifted in and out. On the other hand, I stayed in bed for more than 24 hours post-surgery, so I still ended up getting some sleep. All completely dreamless, too.

I brought along my Kobo reader and iPad, but didn’t have the energy to use either. I used the phone for a bit of texting and a call to Jeff.

The second day was all about whether I’d have to stay another night and this would hinge on the second x-ray. Fortunately, after that x-ray I was informed that I have “large, healthy lungs” and was released.

Strangely, just before this, I started to experience some of my worst pain. It was so bad I even thought about asking to stay a second night. My left shoulder–which they said could be sore as a result of the draining tube–became so sore that it made my whole chest throb. This was deeply unpleasant and soured my release.

Fortunately, once I got home, I began to feel a lot better–just like everyone at the hospital had said. Such smart people.

The staff were all great, too–professional, knowledgeable, friendly, everything you’d want while going through a fairly unpleasant experience.

And now I have my pain pills and a regime to follow, with a list of dos and don’ts for the next four weeks. I need to cough a lot. I can’t lift anything over 10 pounds. No running or other strenuous activities for probably the next four weeks. I will obey but was also advised that I could do things if I felt comfortable doing them.

I’ll probably add more to this post as I remember things. While the surgery was a unique experience, and I’m glad the serendipity of the mass showing up on the CT scan for my kidney infection a year and a half ago ended with it getting removed, it was not in any way a fun experience.

UPDATE: I tried climbing into bed to sleep, as one does, and my shoulder seized and started aching like crazy. Whoops. I applied some Rub A-353 to both shoulders and the base of my neck and settled on staying up most of the night, dozing occasionally in the office computer chair, one of the few places I can sit and not feel immediately uncomfortable. I expect over the next few days the pain will change more to discomfort. I mean, it better!

Pre-surgery pre-fun

Fun fact: I have been in four car accidents, including one where the car ended in a ditch, yet have never had surgery.

That will change on Friday…but not because of a car accident.

In fact, the source of the surgery is one of those little mysteries, but in this case, a mystery that needs to be yoinked out of my body.

Nice fatty mass you got there

It all began (vaguely ominous music starts here) about a year and a half ago, when my body thought it might be fun to try on a really good kidney infection. As part of the diagnosis, I got my first CT scan. This revealed a 2 cm mass of fatty tissue in my chest where no masses of fatty tissue should be. My family doctor thought it was nothing to get alarmed about, but did put me on the proverbial slow boat for an MRI, a procedure I would not wish on anyone. This lead to an appointment with a thoracic surgeon, who ordered another CT scan, a PFT and a PET scan. I got a little of everything.

In the end, the conclusion was that although the mass was just sitting there, all quiet-like, it shouldn’t be there, as it could one day turn evil, so it was best to remove it.

The removal is on Friday. A tiny camera may be involved, which is both neat in a modern tech kind of way, but also something I don’t really want to think about too much, since the camera will be inside me.

Pre-surgery pep talk, but without the pep

Today was my preadmission clinic for the surgery, in which a nurse and an anesthesiologist asked me a bunch of questions, told me things, took my weight, measured my height and blood pressure, looked at my teeth and sent me off to surrender blood and have my first-ever EKG (or ECG, if you prefer).

My blood pressure was a bit high, but not alarmingly high, so the nurse took it again after she was wrapping up, thinking, I suppose, that my anxiety level would be lower at the end of our talk. My blood pressure was actually higher still. She suggested getting a home kit for blood pressure just to, you know, see if it’s high when I’m checking it at home and relaxed and wearing slippers or something. She again assured me it was not alarmingly high.

The questions were mostly expected–allergies, any prescription drugs I might be taking, stuff like that. The things they told me were also pretty much what I expected, mostly to do with what to eat/drink or not eat/drink before surgery.

I was advised to leave all tech doodads like my watch and phone at home, and go to the hospital with only my keys and Compass card, like some sort of caveman. They suggested someone (Jeff) could being me a bag of technology (BOT) after the operation, so I don’t have to just lay back and stare up at the ceiling of the semi-private room I’ll be in. I’ll also be able to stare at my phone.

(As a side note, my new phone is so boring and has so little installed on it, that I barely looked at it during the entire time I was at the hospital today, which was a little over three hours. I did adjust the clock on the lock screen, though.)

The clinic itself was supposed to last just under two hours and started at 9:30. By 10:15 the nurse was done and I awaited the anesthesiologist. A few minutes later a receptionist came in and said she was running late and wouldn’t be there until 11:00, so I could wander off for a bit and get drunk or something, if I wanted.

Instead, I found where Admitting is in the main hospital building, which is named after Jim Pattison, because what’s the point of having money if you can’t lord it over the populace by using it to get your name slapped onto every hospital? I asked a nice woman at the Information desk in the lobby and she pointed to Admitting, which was literally behind the desk. I was practically looking directly at the sign. Feeling like an idiot, I thanked her and went to buy the antibacterial stuff I’m supposed to use as part of the two showers pre-surgery (one the night before, one the morning of). Having done these things, I headed back up a bit early and lo, the anesthesiologist came in, also early!

She explained a bunch of stuff, and answered a few questions, such as how long it takes for the IV to knock you out (15-30 seconds) and where they’d likely put the IV. She seemed to think the bulging veins on my tiny, girlie hands would do nicely.

She also went over some pain remedies that might be applied after surgery, if I give consent. A few sounded less optional, as apparently a lot of people can get nauseous or barf after the anesthetic, so they’ll pump me full of something to reduce the chance of barfing. Because the surgery will be in the chest area, the risk of higher-than-normal pain is, well, higher, because every time I breathe in or out, it might hurt. And I breathe like, all the time.

Fun with needles, both theoretical and hands-on

One option she described was an epidural, in which you get an injection near your spine to help relieve pain. This sounds worse to me than the actual pain.

Another was a regional anesthetic, sort of like a Novocaine shot at the dentist, but applied to the chest area. I’d probably be OK with this. I was also shown a pain scale from 1 to 10, complete with a face that looked very neutral at 1 and kind of like the Doom guy after getting killed by 10 (which was labelled “Excruciating”). They aim to keep pain to a 4 (“Moderate”) or lower.

She did try to reassure me that the incision will be small, so it’s not like they’re flaying me open and then having to use 1000 staples to hold everything together afterward. This should help to reduce the overall pain/discomfort post-surgery.

The part that probably bummed me out the most was how both the nurse and the anesthesiologist thought it was likely I’d be kept for two nights, not just one. Boo. I am booing now, but it is quite possible I may ask for a third night when the time comes, depending on how I feel.

With the talking parts done, I went to the lab on the main floor to get blood taken. I took a number, which was 69 (hehe). The number last served was 30, so it looked like a long wait was ahead of me.

Which was accurate.

I was initially sitting and waiting next to an older man who would occasionally cough into both of his hands, then would set these same hands on the armrests of his chair, all the better to smear his germs around. Sometimes he just coughed hands-free.

I moved to a chair across the room.

When I finally went in, a little over an hour after arriving, the tech asked if I had a preferred arm and based on previous experience, I immediately said no, because it would not matter. Both of my arms suck, as determined by science. She tested the right arm, then tested the left arm. Then she went back to the right arm. She got the needle in, then noted a minor complication–I was not producing any blood. She worked the needle a bit, apologizing if it was painful, then struck gold, so to speak, and quickly filled at least four vials. It sounds a bit awful the way I’ve described it, but the worst it felt was slightly uncomfortable for a moment or two. No biggie, especially considering the human pincushion experiences of my recent past.

Next was the EKG. I only had to wait a little over 20 minutes for this and it was easy-peasy. I lay down on the bed, the tech attached 10 electrodes and after maybe 15 or 20 seconds, was done. There was no sensation at all. I was a bit concerned about the electrodes being removed from my chest afterward, as I am a bit…hirsute. But even that part was fine.

And that concluded my visit to VGH for today.

I’m not exactly worried about the surgery, but I am…thinking about it.

I was originally going to end this post with an animated surgery GIF, but that proved to be not one of my better ideas, so use your imagination instead.

April 2026 weight loss report: Down 0.7 pounds

All stats are trending in the right direction, woo.

April is the first full month I did not track my calories at all. I just tried to eat sensibly.

I focused on the following:

  • Eating more fruit and vegetables
  • Getting more protein via:
    • Non-fat yogurt
    • Nuts (mostly walnuts, some pistachios and cashews)
    • Chocolate milk protein drink (after runs, 18 grams of protein per cup)
    • High protein cereal mixed in with other low sugar cereals
  • Restricting snacks to things like the occasional Pocky (when on sale)
  • Otherwise eating my usual breakfast, lunch and dinner

There were some cookies, pizza and the like, but I ran regularly throughout the month, which probably helped, since each run is an 18 km round trip (5 to 10K of that is running).

In all, going the right way. Onward through May.

Stats:

January 1, 2026: 169.4 pounds

Current: 169.2 pounds
Year to date: Down 0.2 pounds

April 1: 169.8 pounds
April 30: 169.2 pounds (down 0.7 pounds)

Body fat: 
April 1: 26.3%
April 30: 25.6% (down 0.7%)

Skeletal muscle mass:
April 1: 29.9 kg
April 30: 29.8 kg (down 0.1 kg)

BMI:
April 1: 24.3
April 30: 24.2 (down 0.1)

Historical: January 1, 2022: 182.8 pounds

Weight loss report, March 2026: Up 0.2 pounds

Whoops, I’m a day late because of strata shenanigans and a very late night last night.

Good news: I was up a mere 0.2 pounds. If I’d gone to the loo before weighing, I would have been down (apologies if that’s TMI). That means the month was basically neutral. And I am down today (April 1) as I type this.

The flip side is I didn’t lose weight. All of my stats basically didn’t budge.

But the other flip side (so many sides) is that March was the first time in years when I did not count my calories, I just ate what I wanted, focusing on having more fruit and vegetables and trying to boost both my fibre and protein intake.

I think I was at least partly successful.

I’ll probably start tracking again this month, I just need to find an app, and the main reason will be to verify I’m getting enough protein. Once I get things locked in, I probably won’t keep tracking. But we’ll see.

Stats:

January 1, 2026: 169.4 pounds

Current: 169.8 pounds
Year to date: Up 0.4 pounds

March 1: 170.2 pounds
March 31: 170.4 pounds (up 0.2 pounds)

Body fat: 
March 1: 26.3%
March 31: 26.2% (down 0.1%)

Skeletal muscle mass:
March 1: 30.0 kg
March 31: 30.0 kg (unchanged)

BMI:
March 1: 24.4
March 31: 24.4 (unchanged)

Historical: January 1, 2022: 182.8 pounds

March 2026 weight loss report: Up 0.2 pounds

I am posting this a month late because I completely forgot to post this on March 31 (though the publication date will show as March 31, because I’m sneaky like that).

Since this is from a month ago, I can’t recall specific details, but it looks like not much changed. The weight gain is now a rounding error, so that’s good!

Stats:

January 1, 2026: 169.4 pounds

Current: 170.4 pounds
Year to date: Up one pound

March 1: 170.2 pounds
March 31: 170.4 pounds (up 0.2 pounds)

Body fat: 
March 1: 26.3%
March 31: 26.2% (down 0.1%)

Skeletal muscle mass:
March 1: 30.0 kg
March 31: 30.0 kg (unchanged)

BMI:
March 1: 24.4
March 31: 24.4 (unchanged)

Historical: January 1, 2022: 182.8 pounds

I got on a bike. And rode it!

Today, for the first time in several years, I got on a bike and rode it. And I did not forget how to ride, just like they say. I did feel a tad wobbly at first. Biking muscles are very different from running muscles.

And it wasn’t actually my own bike, it was an e-bike that Jeff got for cheap. It’s pretty tall, which was my biggest issue, but I quickly adapted to using the motor in conjunction with using my legs. It definitely made the last stretch coming home, up a fairly steep hill (hello, New Westminster) quite a bit easier when I switched to Turbo mode. And yes, it is literally called that.

I was a bit conservative on roads, because, you know, drivers in big vehicles made out of metal, but it wasn’t bad. We rode mostly down industrial streets, bike paths and trails before reaching our destination of Home Depot (Jeff needed paint).

On the way we stopped at a little place along the river called Don Roberts Park. I have no idea who Don Roberts is, but this is the view of the Fraser from the main lookout point:

It was fun to get out on a bike again and nice that my first e-bike ride didn’t end with me popping a wheelie and flipping over or something. I look forward to more.

But tomorrow, back to moving with my own two legs.

Weight loss report, February 2026: Up 0.4 pounds

Yesterday, I was down one pound for the month, then overnight I miraculously gained 1.4 pounds, putting me 0.4 pounds over. Such are the vagaries of the body.

But despite a not-great month, my weight and related stats were basically unchanged.

Toward the end of the month I stopped logging my food in MyFitnessPal, ending a 4,767-day streak. I switched to Cronometer but only kept with it for four days.

I am currently not tracking my food at all, except in my head. I may go back to formally tracking it, in particular to see if I’m hitting some key goals–not weight loss specifically. One of the things Cronometer does is it clearly lists the nutrients from your food against your daily goal for each right by what you’ve had to eat for the day and this revealed a significant protein deficit. I was only getting about half of the protein I needed.

Since seeing this, I’ve begun to place priority on getting more protein, because right now there’s a good chance that when I’m losing weight, it’s probably pretty evenly split between fat and muscle.

After a few weeks I’ll probably track my food again part-time and see how things look.

And I promise, no donuts!

Stats:

January 1, 2026: 169.4 pounds

Current: 170.4 pounds
Year to date: Up one pound

February 1: 170.4 pounds
February 28: 170.8 pounds (up 0.4 pounds)

Body fat: 
February 1: 26%
February 28: 26% (up 0.3%)

Skeletal muscle mass:
February 1: 31.0 kg
February 28: 30.0 kg (down 0.1 kg)

BMI:
February 1: 24.4
February 28: 24.5 (up 0.1)

Historical: January 1, 2022: 182.8 pounds

Do I need to track what I eat?

UPDATE, February 22, 2026: I have now broken my short Cronometer login streak by not logging in. Insert itshappening.gif here.

Obviously the answer is no, I don’t. If I just eat food and don’t do anything outrageous, like switch to a diet of live grenades, I’ll probably be fine, more or less.

But it’s a question that I’ve asked myself after dropping my daily logging habit on MyFitnessPal after more than 13 years and switching to the information-dense layout of Cronometer.

It would be much simpler to just make what I feel are good choices and not actually try to meticulously track every calorie. It’s tempting.

The one thing keeping me using Cronometer for now is how prominently it displays the nutrients of the food you’re eating. This has shown me that I’m almost certainly not getting enough protein. For someone who runs multiple times a week, this is important!

What I might do, then, is make tweaks to my diet to up certain nutrients, verify the results in Cronometer, then decide if I want to keep tracking. Of course, at that point, tracking would probably be a lot simpler and faster, too.

Now excuse me while I go drink 10 litres of protein shakes1I don’t even want to imagine how my body and/or bladder would react to this.

The Culling: MyFitnessPal

Here is my current login streak on MyFitnessPal:

This translates to about 13 years, or back to 2013. I remember going to the top of a mountain when on vacation in 2017 in Manning Park to get close enough to a massive cellular tower there so I could get a signal on my phone and log that day (we were going up the mountain, anyway). The app later changed so that you could log entries offline and it would sync and keep any streaks intact when you got online again.

But today I’m not logging in, which will end my streak.

MFP is not a bad app (or site) but I’ve fallen into some bad habits with it, shortcutting entries and fudging things for expediency, like a chore to get out of the way as quickly as possible.

The interface is perfectly serviceable, but last year they offered a preview of a new UI that suddenly went away with a “Thanks for your feedback, see you in 2026!” note that suggested the feedback was not kind.

In any event, I am going to try Cronometer again. Its UI is more modern, but perhaps a tad cluttered. I’ll adapt. It integrates nicely with my Garmin watch and scale and gives me a fuller picture than the free version of MFP ever did (most of the useful stuff there is gated behind a subscription). I may even subscribe to Cronometer to see how it goes, despite my general hesitance to subscribe to anything new these days.

By way of comparison, I was tracking my typical breakfast at 380 calories on MFP. Being more precise with my entries on Cronometer, it shows 440 calories and that’s before adding my usual slice of toast and jam, which will bring it to around 560 or so. That’s a notable difference on a daily basis.

If Cronometer doesn’t work out, Garmin offers its own meal-tracking now through Connect+, which is also (surprise) a subscription. We’ll see.

But for now, MFP and my 13-year logging streak, are going away.

A haiku to my waistline

I see you down there
Inflating like a balloon
I'll eat celery

I’m not eating celery.

But I will refrain from eating:

  • Cookies
  • Candy
  • Pop Tarts
  • Donuts
  • Chocolate
  • Heavily salted snacks

Because I’m not writing haikus about all of the above.

Weight loss report, January 2026: Unchanged

I was one pound under for the month yesterday, then I found a Pop Tart. Or two. Today, those Pop Tarts sit heavy in my belly.

Still, after what was a pretty bad month, I managed to actually tread the proverbial water, starting at 169.4 pounds and ending the same. Most of the other stats either remained the same or saw slight increases. This is not terrible, but also not good. I shall call it non-good.

I am expecting better for February, as temperatures continue to warm, and I get access to my treadmill for any possible snow days. Maybe I’ll even start using the dusty dumbbells again.

And no more Pop Tarts, I swear.

Stats:

January 1, 2026: 169.4 pounds

Current: 169.4 pounds
Year to date: Unchanged

January 1: 169.4 pounds
January 31: 169.4 pounds (unchanged)

Body fat: 
January 1: 25.5%
January 31: 25.8% (up 0.3%)

Skeletal muscle mass:
January 1: 30.0 kg
January 31: 30.0 kg (unchanged)

BMI:
January 1: 24.2
January 31: 24.3 (up 0.1)

Historical: January 1, 2022: 182.8 pounds

CT Scan 2: Contrast Dye Boogaloo

It was time for more fun involving the little mass in my chest that shouldn’t be there. Today, it was CT scan time! To recap, I’ve had the following done:

  • CT scan #1 (this is what led to the discovery of the mass, as the scan was actually for a kidney infection)
  • MRI
  • PET scan
  • Pulmonary Function Test (PFT)

I was not told I’d be getting a CT scan, though they feel almost old hat at this point. I just got a call to book one and two days later, I was on a table getting scanned yet again, this time at UBC Hospital.

Attending to me this time was a cute young technician with a very Australian accent. It was kind of adorable.

What was less adorable were his attempts to insert the IV. I needed the IV because they would be using contrast dye to enhance the imagery and also, briefly, enhance the sensation that my bladder was emptying itself when it’s just a big psyche as the dye works through your system.

Here’s how the IV hunt went:

  1. Crook of right elbow: failed.
  2. Left hand: failed.
  3. Right wrist: failed.
  4. Crook of right elbow, but slightly to the right of the first attempt: success!

A couple of the failed attempts stung a bit and the tech asked if it was painful and I confirmed it was, a little, but I remained calm, and promised I would give my veins a good talking to afterward. They tell you to drink water before to be hydrated, which helps. Next time I’m going to drink a 4 litre jug of water on the way in.

The fourth and successful try did not hurt, which seemed a good clue that it would work, and it did.

I had to hold my arms over my head, which was as awkward as always, and at one point–I think just after the dye went in–the IV started to hurt a bit again, but it only lasted a few moments.

The actual scan was quick and simple, as CT scans are.

I celebrated by having a Sausage and Egg McMuffin. Which I ate before going in, actually.

Also, good news: Despite the repeated jabbings, no bruising! Here is my gallery of cotton wads, done Polaroid style, because I’m all about chintzy nostalgia! Also, I don’t recommend clicking on the thumbnails, they are sufficient as is.

Now I wait for whatever is next, hooray.