My family was given a number to track my status while I was in surgery. In the OR family waiting area, there is a screen, much like the one you would see at the airport with the tracking number and where the patient is. The surgeon scribbled down Josh’s cell phone number on a scrap piece of paper before wheeling me in for surgery. Josh would wait for his call when the surgery is complete. My mom said she had never been so worried in her life, her heart was pounding the entire time. Josh, my brother and my dad passed the time by snacking on junk food from the vending machine and the “Nutman”. The three of them argued over everything from climate change, the carbon tax, to China’s surveillance of the world. The surgeon called Josh 2 hours later and reported the surgery went well. During the surgery, they found another small nodule that was not visible on the MRI and it was successfully removed. My mom said she saw a surgeon out to talk with another family that was waiting and it did not look like it was good news. She was so relieved by the phone call that surgery was successful and they could go see me now.
The part where you enter the OR and within 5 minutes you are in a coma is great. It’s like you leave the world for a little while, you don’t have to worry about anything, you just have to believe that you are in capable hands where you would wake up as they promised (well actually they don’t promise anything, you sign a consent acknowledging that you may never wake up…) Gotta have a positive attitude right?
When I woke up, I literally thought I was going to die. I had this unbelievable headache, nausea, and eventually vomiting blood. The worst of it all was that I really had to pee and they didn’t put a catheter in the OR. The nurse I had was efficient and amazing, I was promptly taken care of (I asked to have a catheter put in) and she quickly gave me something for pain and nausea. I went from feeling like death to near death in about an hour. She did all this while my concerned family was buzzing around. I ended up spending a week on that unit because of complications associated with my Cushing’s disease. I had diabetes insipidus, I was so thirsty and everything I drank went right through me. I had no strength to get up to go to the bathroom every 15 minutes. I thought the Foley catheter was the greatest invention of all time. I lied in bed, drank, and waited for my bladder to contract. I kept meticulous record of my intake and output to pass the time because I couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted I was. When I was feeling a little bit better with a bit of energy, I was carrying my catheter bag around with me like a purse to walk laps around the unit – I thought about asking for a walker so I can hang the bag there and do my laps…. If you ever worked on a surgical unit, you would know that they call patients like me a “Walkie Talkie”. Aside from monitoring and managing my diabetes insipidus, I was improving little bits at a time and I was hopeful for a speedy recovery.
I braved every needle poke and it did not even faze me anymore when the vampires make their rounds (the only problem was that they ran out of good veins to poke because they were so bruised – I told them to just start drawing from the hand). I lost count after 30 pokes. The patient next to me had a malignant brain tumour (I think she was only in her late 40’s). I felt very fortunate that I had a tumor that is most likely benign and that surgery would yield a 70 to 80 percent cure rate of Cushing’s Disease. After spending a full week in the hospital, I was eager and felt ready to go home.
#writing #memoir #nonfiction #recovery #surgery