On the morning of the surgery, I honestly wasn't that nervous. I was more worried about getting an IV put in than the surgery itself. We woke up exhausted, and I was starving, but I headed to the hospital in pretty good spirits. I got all checked in and was given my "pager" to tell me when I could head back. The first thing I thought of when I got the pager was that it looked like a remote control and reminded me of the pagers they give at The Loop to tell you when your food is ready. Deefle and I were joking around about it when it went off. I had been told that one, if not both, of my parents could come back with me to get my IVs in and everything, so Mumphy walked up to the nurse with me, but she said that they usually had the parents come back after the patient was all set up. I wanted to object, but I put on a brave face and headed through the doors with the nurse alone. I was put in a room with its windows decorated with a Hawaiian theme. There were leis draped across and colorful paper fish stuck on the outside. When we walked in, the nurse joked, "I know the room is pretty small, but you won't be in here long, and at least it's very festive!" I remember wanting to say, "Okay, that's cute, and thanks for being nice, but let's just get this show on the road." She was really kind, honestly, but I was just ready to go. She asked me some basic questions again, the same ones I had been asked at my pre-op appointment in March, as well as when was the last time I had eaten or drunk something. After that, she left me alone in the room with a super-stylish hospital gown and a bag to put my clothes in. I got undressed and dressed, lay down in the hospital bed, and covered myself up with the wonderfully warm blankets. The nurse came back in a little bit later, gave me a shot of Lorazepam in my hip to relax me, and started my IV. I told her I might get a little bit woozy, so she told me to hold an alcohol swab up to my nose. That's the best trick I've learned yet. It even kept me completely alert when another nurse came in to take my blood. The good news is that she had no problem locating a vein this time. By the time my parents walked in the door, I had had my blood taken in my left arm and an IV started in my right arm, and that Lorazepam was starting to go to my head. Mumphy passed me the remote control for the TV above my head, and I desperately tried to find Lifetime or LMN, but there were too many channels. I asked my parents if I had already been anesthetized because I was only expecting the shot of Lorazepam to relax me and not come close to knocking me out. Apparently, the IV contained a special mixture of happy juice in addition to the Lorazepam, so that explained the high feeling. Also, I wasn't even supposed to get an IV in my right arm, so they disconnected that and put it in my hand instead. As if I wanted to be poked and prodded any more. Dr. Hey walked in shortly, had a prayer with us, and asked me what I hoped to get out of the surgery. I told him, "I want to be as straight and tall as possible!" He laughed, told me that that was the goal, reassured my parents, and headed out to scrub up. My parents took some pictures with me in my hospital bed, and I was only semi-conscious by the time two nurses came to wheel me back to the operating room. Mumphy and Deefle kissed my forehead, I remember being slightly jostled when the nurses started moving me, and I saw the doorframe to the small Hawaiian room pass above me. The last thing I remember is being in a really bright room, looking up at a super-white light, and having someone hold my arm and murmur some comforting words. Then I was out.
When I woke up, I was in my official hospital room, and Dr. Hey was sitting beside my bed telling me that things had gone really well, I now had a completely straight spine, and I had gained some height. I couldn't really make out anything else he said, and I was too weak to respond or even nod. My throat hurt from the breathing tube I had during surgery, and I had two tiny tubes just right up my nostrils to deliver extra oxygen. The first thing I thought of when I noticed those was Twilight. I felt like Bella in the hospital after her accident when she had the same tubes up her nose. I also had a new IV in my neck, as well as a catheter. I didn't feel much of anything at that point, but my parents came in pretty soon, talked to Dr. Hey, and came over to kiss me on the forehead. They talked to me, and I'm sure I listened, but they didn't try to elicit any responses from me, and I was still pretty much out of it. The only thing I remember saying is, "Daddy, I grew an inch." Of course, I would discover later that it was more like two inches, but at the time, I thought it was just one. I was still pretty excited about that. Soon after that, I was out again.
The next couple of days were a blur. I was on the morphine drip, and I remember pushing that button every single time I saw the light go off to give me the okay to push it again. I'm sure it didn't deliver another dose each time, but I needed to believe that it did. I was in pain, but I was still pretty numb. I slept mostly, and I'm completely unsure about the timeline here. I don't know when it was, but I had an excellent night nurse named Sheila, and she brought me my first meal, which was a small bowl of lime Jello. It was absolutely delicious, and after I ate it, I crashed again. I only became nauseous twice the entire time, and with my fear of throwing up, I blew both instances out of proportion. I started panicking, my father called the nurse, and I got a shot of something in my neck to calm the nausea. It worked almost immediately both times, and I could relax again. The first time, one of the nurses made the mistake of holding a barf bucket up to my mouth, which just freaked me out even more. I don't like having people think I'm going to throw up because it makes me believe it, too. I shook my head at her violently, and she assumed that the gesture meant that the vomit was coming, so she held the tray closer to my mouth. Thank goodness my mom understood and told her to take that thing away from me.
As Deefle posted during my days in the hospital, the morphine gave me some intriguing dreams. I usually have insane dreams, even when not on any drugs, so the two that I remember weren't at all shocking to me. Mary told me that I should write down all that I remember about both of them, so I'll try to remember as much as I can. The first one popped into my head like a bubble floating towards me. As the bubble came closer and closer to me, I could see what was happening in more detail. I noticed some things bouncing around what appeared to be a fire, and soon enough, I could make out what those things were. The fire was in the middle of an open field with a forest behind it, and it appeared to be some kind of ceremonial bonfire. The colors were so vivid that they blew my mind. The red, orange, and yellow of the crackling flames were so warm that I felt like I was standing right next to the fire, and I saw sparks dancing above my head. The next thing I noticed was the midgets. There were midgets, or should I say dwarves to be politically correct, dancing around the fire and chanting in some foreign language. It didn't make sense to me because although I heard the chanting, I couldn't figure out where it was coming from since the midgets had no heads. That's right. There were headless midgets dancing and chanting around a bonfire. There was nothing where the heads should be, not any blood or gore. Just torsos and limbs moving around. It felt like I was standing just a few feet away from the action watching it play out. The chanting was so rhythmic and high-pitched, and the dancing was so graceful. It was almost like Riverdance, but each time the midgets jumped off the ground to kick or shuffle, they remained suspended for longer than normal, as if they were floating momentarily. All of this was occurring while they orbited the fire with each step. It was phenomenal, and when I woke up, the only thing I said to my dad was, "There were headless midgets dancing around a fire," and then I fell back asleep.
The next dream was probably based on the fact that my dad was the one spending the night at the hospital with me at the time, and every now and then, he'd come bend over my hospital bed to check on me. This dream entered my mind with a slow and gradual flashing until it all came into focus. Someone was walking on the water toward me. The water seemed endless, and the sky was glowing behind him and around him. He was wearing white flowing robes, had long wavy hair, a mustache, and a beard. It wasn't until he came very close that I could tell he was my father. It was obvious that he was also Jesus. I would capitalize the word "he" in this case if it had not been my father. So my dad was Jesus walking on water toward me. As he got right up to my face, I noticed that he hadn't been walking towards me, but towards a tiny island instead. The island had several palm trees on it and lots of sand, and there on the edge of it sat our two cats, Moses and Zacchaeus. They were completely enthralled as Jesus/Deefle walked toward them. They both sat side by side in the same position, their wide eyes sparkling at him. As he walked right up to the edge of the island, he reached into his white robes and pulled out what appeared to be a small parcel. The cats watched intently as he opened the parcel, its wrapping disappeared, and inside was a bag of treats for them, what we call "snackies." He opened the bag, the bag disappeared, and in his two hands, he held several snackies for them both. He raised his hands and opened them, and all the snackies fell right in front of each cat in two perfect stacks. The cats remained completely still until Jesus/Deefle gave them a slow nod, and then they both started eating in unison. Once they had finished, they both raised their heads at the same time, gazed up at Jesus/Deefle, stood on their hind legs and raised their front paws, and began bowing down to him. He smiled at them as they worshipped him repeatedly, and the dream began to fade out. When I woke up, I immediately knew it was a dream because Zacchaeus hadn't meowed a single time, and my dad was actually asleep on the pull-out sofa with his mouth hanging open. I told him about the dream later, and it's obviously his favorite of the two morphine dreams since he was Jesus in it.
Now that I've described both dreams in great detail, I'm again at a loss for the reality of the situation. I know that Mumphy and Deefle alternated spending nights with me and spending nights at the hotel, and I was woken up far too much during the night to have my vitals checked. I always felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen, but I was at 100% every single time except once, when my blood oxygen level was 99%. Heavens, that was a close one. I had some wonderful nurses, and some annoying ones. My favorite was named Sheila, and my second favorite was Toni. Sheila worked the night shift, and Toni worked during the day. Sheila would come check on me at exactly the right times, as if she knew when I needed something. She knew that I hated the lemon Jello that was being forced on me at the time, so she brought me some strawberry Jello cups instead, as well as some ginger ale instead of the unsweet tea I got with each meal. Her demeanor was just so sweet, and when she wasn't on duty, I was always asking my parents when she would be back. Toni was also fantastic. She was spunky and funny, and she would always get on me to eat more of my meals. The liquid diet for the first couple of days was awful, but the solid diet was even worse except for one delicious buttered bagel I had, compliments of Sheila. Lucy brought in my meals every day, and as soon as she opened the tray, I was grossed out. I didn't feel like planning my own meals, so I just took what they gave me. I'm pretty sure that nothing I had requested would've been any better. My parents benefitted from the meals, though. Lucy usually had extra trays, so she would offer them to Mumphy and Deefle, who always accepted.
Once they took me off the morphine after about 24 hours, I was in pretty bad pain. I was put on a lot of pills and the occasional shot of some strong and delicious pain medication in the neck, but I still felt every little movement, and it was impossible to get comfortable in that bed. That hospital bed was pure evil. It adjusted to your pressure points, so after you moved it to what you thought was a good spot, it would move on its own to a very uncomfortable formation around your back. There was no way to make it stop either. Sheila and Toni tried to override the whole pressure points mechanism to no avail. The bed moved on its own. Nana and Boopa wanted to come visit Friday, a day after the surgery, but I was in far too much pain to have them come. I don't know when it was, but I did get some visitors later, perhaps on Saturday. My dad's co-worker Angie came to visit for a few minutes and brought a lovely arrangement of miniature flowers, Uncle Mike and Aunt Candi came at one point, and then some cousins I don't know also came. Gog had called those cousins, a mother and her son, to come spy on me in the hospital. When they showed up at the door, my mom and dad didn't even know who they were. Goggy had to have her private eyes on the job, of course. I think they were my second cousins. To all the visitors, I'm sure that my appearance was ghastly, but I kept hearing how good I looked. I didn't believe it for a second, but it was really nice to hear. The best thing is that nobody overstayed his or her welcome. I felt very loved. My room looked quite lovely, too, with Angie's gorgeous arrangement and a huge vase of beautiful flowers sent by some of my dad's other colleagues on a shelf where I could see them.
The physical therapists came to try to have me walk on the second day, but I almost howled out in pain when they helped me sit up. I told them I couldn't do it anymore, and I would've collapsed back onto the bed if one of them hadn't caught me. They said they would come back later in the day. Every time one of my nurses said "physical therapy" for the remainder of the day, I winced and prayed that they wouldn't show back up. Luckily, they didn't that day. However, they came back the next day, sat me up, and even had me stand up. They had brought in a walker for heights up to 5'8" and had it on the highest level, but it was still too short for me. One of the physical therapists estimated that I was about 5'10" and set another walker to that level. It was just the right height. I walked a tiny ways up the hall, past the door of the annoying, complaining lady next door, and then I had to go back. A physical therapist laughed as I started booking it back to my room. He said, "Funny how the journey back to the bed is a lot faster than the one away from it." My dad took a picture of me walking back into my room, I collapsed back onto the bed with the therapists' help, and I crashed for who knows how many hours. I was so proud of myself though. I think that was Saturday, and I was released on Sunday.
Sunday morning, I got all my equipment removed and the remaining IV holes taped up. I had actually gotten the catheter out Saturday night and had been using the raised potty in the bathroom since then. It was so difficult, but I couldn't stand being in the hospital anymore. My resolve to get the hell out of there was even greater on Sunday morning, when I walked to and back from the Homeward Bound Gym down the hall without the assistance of a walker or a physical therapist. In the gym, I had to climb up and down five stairs and get in and out of a mock car. They put a plastic bag on the seat to help me slide in and out. I did both these things in no time at all, and I knew that I would be discharged that day. It was also the first day since the surgery that I had worn anything besides the hospital gown. My mom helped me put on a new nightgown and bathrobe, compliments of Goggy, and I just felt so much better. We had to wait forever for all the paperwork to go through, and I was served a lunch of roast beef and mashed potatoes. It was repulsive, but I didn't even care. While I was attempting to eat it, Mumphy and Deefle bought a high-rise potty for us to have at home, and let me just say that I couldn't have survived without it during those first few weeks. Finally, I was released. They wheeled me out of the hospital and to the car, where I slid into the front seat with my pillow. My mom was in charge of the flower arrangements in the backseat, my dad was driving, and I was just concentrating on getting comfortable. Every tiny bump on the way home was awful, but the nurses had doped me up pretty well before the ride, so things could've been a lot worse. Anyways, I didn't care that much because I was so thrilled to be going home!
I don't remember a lot after that. I remember getting home, staying in the downstairs bedroom, having to have help to even shift in the bed, and using the raised potty in the bathroom. The cats were so sweet, too. Moses would come visit me every now and then, but he would position himself on me so as not to hurt my back. The pain was intense, and I just wanted to sleep all the time until it went away. I was getting doses of high-powered drugs every few hours at the most, and my dad would wake up several times in the middle of the night to administer them. It's hard to believe that all this was four weeks ago now, and it's amazing how far I've come. I'm only taking one Oxycontin a day now, and occasionally a few Ibuprofen. I can sit, walk, use a regular commode, eat normal foods, and even bend pretty far at the knees. It's fantastic. When I'm completely back to normal, I plan to victoriously yell at my mother, "Mom-Pom! I can walk, I can talk, I can read, I can write! Mom-Pom, I can do anything!" That's from a book about a girl with cerebral palsy that Goggy has at her house. It's called Karen, if you're interested, but I'm pretty sure that I just gave away the ending. Sorry about that. It's too late to give you a spoiler alert.
Well, even though it took me a little over two hours to write all that down, I'm glad I did. Not only will you hopefully enjoy reading it, but I will also not forget it now. If I think of anything else I left out, I'll put it in another entry, but I'm pretty sure that covers it. Now all that's left to do is proofread it. Oh joy. Mumphy and Deefle left at 7:00 this morning to catch their flight to LA, so I'll be writing thank-you notes for the rest of the day until I head over to Goggy's house tonight. I may or may not write another entry for today, depending on how busy Gog keeps me, but if not, I'll be back in touch tomorrow! Also, I just discovered that this post is six pages long, single-spaced in 12 font, on Microsoft Word. If you just read all of it, I send my condolences and congratulations your way.
You KNOW that your most devoted fan read it! And I loved EVERY single word. Funny that I know nothing of this book titled Karen (and I can't figure out how to italicize that word - so please don't think that my grammar is failing me...) I was trying to save your posts for a mid-morning work break but I was too intrigued!
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