I'm HOME...And On The Mend...

Well, a month in the hospital is something no one expected...ever! But I'm home! Finally...and in time for Christmas. Like my surgeon warned me, there was the potential for complications and I had several. The first surgery (the only one scheduled!) on 11/15/12 went well, all things considered. It was a long and grueling surgery and it was very painful coming out of anesthesia with 32 pedicle screws and 2 new rods on either side of my spine. But little did I know, that would be the least of my worries. 5 days later, I was put on the emergency surgery roster for excess fluid drainage from my 20" incision. The "washout surgery" was supposed to take about an hour but it took 4 due to the discovery of blood clots and CSF (cerebrospinal fluid) in my incision as well as a staph infection. SO, once I was all cleaned up and closed up and back in ICU, the hardest and most surprising part was coming off the ventilator. I had an extremely difficult time breathing on my own apparently and it took many hours for them to successfully extubate me without stopping breathing or having my oxygen levels drop. Eventually, I was moved to back to my room. The next day, I had trouble breathing and it was painful to take a deep breath. After an x-ray, it was discovered that I had bilateral pleural effusions and later that afternoon, my Dad came back to the hospital to be with me while I had the fluid removed from my lungs (well, really the area around my lungs...the space where your organs lie is called your pleural cavity; mine had filled approximately 40% with fluid).

After 8 days, I was transferred to a nearby inpatient rehab hospital, which was nothing like the experience I had when I went there in January following my initial fusion. The "room" was more like a "ward," holding 4 other patients and we were all sharing a bathroom and shower. It was a daily occurrence to see urine-soaked adult diapers on the floor in the bathroom and for a somewhat self-admitted germ-phob, this was my worst nightmare. "Privacy" consisted of pulling my curtain over in an area which barely covered my bed and having a "private" discussion with healthcare providers there was impossible. Aside from that, I had completed just 4 days of therapy before being transferred back to my original hospital (where I had surgery) for high fevers, chills and night sweats. I spent 13 hours in the ER before being admitted to a room and at that point, I had gotten very little pain medication and was in a ton of pain. It was nearly midnight by the time I had gotten a room and I arrived at 10:30am so to say it was a long day is an understatement.

The next day a ton of doctors came in to see me and by mid-morning, it was clear I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I had a fever of 102.6, chills so bad my teeth would chatter and my body would shake, sweats that required a change of clothes every 2-3 hours because I was soaking wet from the fever and a rash on my stomach and back. After a week in the hospital, 1000 blood tests and fevers that ranged from 102 to 103.8, the doctors were stumped. By the end of the week my blood count had dropped to an extremely low 6.4 (normal is 12), they decided to do a CT of my entire body - and they reserved an OR "in case they found something."  HUH??? In case you FIND something?!?!?! I was terrified. They didn't even know what they were looking for...yet they reserved an OR 'just in case.' Well, by the grace of God the CT revealed nothing abnormal...it was negative (thank God).

It was determined that when they put me on this medication to treat my staph infection from my incision, I had a severe allergic reaction to it. I had been on in for almost 2 weeks at this point, which is when a reaction would most likely occur. Allergic reactions are common but according to the doctors, an allergic reaction to this degree is not - as is having all 3 top symptoms: high fevers (over 102.4), chills and sweats, and rash. Lucky me I had all three. So once the medication was stopped and my system was continually flushed with the IV fluids, I started to improve. Within 3 days, I felt like a new person...no fevers, no rash, no chills or sweats. So I was discharged late Tuesday night, and as my husband carefully got me into the car, the cold air on my face felt amazing...so refreshing...he shut the door and by the time he opened his door and sat down, I was holding my face and bawling my eyes out...I was going home...finally...one month after entering the hospital for back surgery, I was leaving...having overcome so much more than surgical pain...I'm so grateful for being home - - and for being home in time for Christmas is just an extra special bonus. We definitely hit some bumpy and scary roads, but we made it...I say "we" because I didn't do this alone...my family played a host of roles including but not limited to babysitter for my 2 kids, cook, taxi, psychologist, listener when I needed to talk (or cry) and friend. "We" could not have done this alone - and "we" are very grateful that we're ALL here to celebrate the holidays together. I know 2013 will be better than 2012 - it certainly won't be as challenging and with the new year brings new hopes, new dreams and new experiences. And "WE" are looking forward to them all.

9 hours to go....

All I can say at this point is...there's no turning back! I'm about 9 hours away from what I am praying will be a safe, successful spinal repair of a badly fractured T12 as well as an entire-length spinal fusion with the exception of my neck. When all is said and done, I will be fused (literally) from top to bottom...but "All is well."

At bedtime, my 3 yr old cried for me for 10' and after that I just had to go in and hold her - rock her - one more time....before....well, then I went into my son's room and he was a little less upset but no less emotional - so after calming his fears of me going into the hospital (again), I reminded him that next week was a big day for Mommy - and that it just so happened that my birthway would be the same day as Thanksgiving this year - and he thought that was cool. BUT, then I made him promise me he would draw me a picture of a "Burkey" - - and he looked at me like "huh?" - - and I said, "Yep, I want a picture of a big fat yummy "burkey" - a birthday turkey! Can you make me one and color it in and draw a bunch of candles on it for me!?!?" And my son, "the professor" as we call him says (as he's giggling the sweetest little giggle you've ever heard) "Yeah, I will...but Mom, can't I just put a '4' and '0' on it...I don't want to draw 40 candles!"  HAHAHAHA!!!  That's JUST what I needed - a good laugh myself, complements of my almost 5 yr old. God I love those kids...tantrums and 'breakfast with a big bowl of grumpy flakes' days and all...they're my life...and I'm so blessed to have them in my life.

 

So with that, I hope I left you with a smile on your face and as much hope in your hearts as I have in mine. My "family" has grown by leaps and bounds over the past year, and I am so incredibly grateful and blessed to have each and every one of you in my life. I honestly don't know how my family and I could have managed to make it through this year without ALL of your love, support and friendships. So don't worry too much - I have an incredibly talented surgeon, an unbelievable support system and a solid faith in God that I will be ok...and in the not-too-distant future, my family and I will wonder how we ever weathered that year...2012...

 

Until I see you again....

 



3 Days To Go...

I can't believe I only have less than 3 days left. My husband left at 5am this morning for the airport and week-long training for his new job. That was hard. Knowing he won't be with me in the 'holding area' just before I go in for surgery was really really hard. But neither one of us could change the situation and so we had to accept it and look on the bright side: he'll see me the day after my surgery (on Friday night) and will come straight from the airport as soon as his plane lands. Another bright side is that my Dad will be with me and will have the daunting task of telling the surgeon, "Take good care of her" not once, not twice, but five times now. And I trust that my skillful surgeon and his team will do just that. So instead of crying about what I can't change, I'm making a conscious decision to accept it and hope for the best. 

Today is Picture Day at my kids' school...so of course my daughter was beside herself with joy that she got to wear her favorite dress - my son, well he wasn't quite as overjoyed at the thought of having to dress up in  khaki pants, a button down shirt and sweater. But Oh My LORD, did they look adorable all dressed up...and so grown up too....(sniffle sniffle)....my "babies" are not babies anymore.  In fact, this morning while eating breakfast, my 3-1/2 yr old (out of the blue!) said, "Mommy! Hey Moooommmmmyyyyyy! I'm a 'people' now...I'm not a baby anymore...I'm a 'people,' like you and Nana and PopPop and Daddy" (and so on down the line). Gotta love how 3 yr old's talk. And she's absolutely right. She and her brother aren't babies anymore...they're 'peoples.' And my little 'peoples' have grown into such big kids already!

So with just 3 short and fading days to go, I'm trying to find things to do to keep me occupied and so what a great reason to have another manicure & pedicure 2 weeks in a row?!? It was wonderfully relaxing and it was nice to get out with my Mom for some much-needed pampering. And at the end of my pedicure, when my Mom had already finished and was waiting just a few feet away while sitting in a chair, I was abruptly and very sternly reprimanded by the girl doing my pedicure. I didn't understand one word the whole time I was there - EXCEPT the music! I just nodded and smiled and agreed with everything they said - they could have said they were charging me triple and I would've agreed. So, along comes a song on the radio. One I happen to like, and so quietly under my breath, I start to sing along! Who cant' help but sing along to Tao Cruz "Dynamite" or Will Smith's back-in-the-day 80's tune "Jiggy Wit It" (LOL!) Me!!!  That's who!!!  Well, this happy and smiling nail girl immediately scowled and looked up saying "NO SING!" At first, I didn't know what she said and so I repeated it to her twice saying, "No sing? As in don't sing??" And she again looked up again and said, "NO SING!" - and so what did I do??  Yep...you, guessed it...I sang!  My Mom and I smirked and giggled in utter disbelief at each other from across the room, trying desperately not to laugh out loud let alone, dare I say it, SING! It was hysterical. Ah, the little things in life - - like singing when you're "not allowed." It wasn't like I was ACTUALLY 'gettin' jiggy wit it' - I can barely sit and walk any distance without pain so it's not like I was actually bouncing around in my seat and wiggly all over the place!  Good grief!  Well, my Mom & I got a big laugh from it. I guess I've always had a bit of an edge like that - tell me not to or that I can't and I'm probably gonna! Nothing bad or illegal or anything but when I'm told not to sing when I'm getting my feet massaged and trying to relax!!  Seriously!?!? So that was funny - and for the record, SING WHENEVER YOU WANT!  Life is too short. Like that saying goes, "Dance like nobody's watching and sing like nobody's listening."

This may or may not be my last post before surgery depending on how things go over the next few days so I wanted to share this with you all in case I forget.  I recently got an email from a former co-worker of mine (also an OT). She and I always got along very well and I really miss working there and the people with whom I've worked despite having only worked there briefly. Anyway, in her email, she commented on "how strong" she thought I was. And my immediate knee-jerk reaction is, "Uh, have you seen me lately?! I'm a lot of things but strong is not one of them!" I see myself as just the opposite and said to myself, (self...) "I'm glad I come across as strong because I sure as heck don't FEEL or LOOK strong!" But then something makes me take a step back...it's perspective...it's how I see myself at this point vs. how I saw myself several years ago or even decades ago. Playing soccer all the way up through and including college, I would definitely agree that I was strong back then. Having had two children without pain medication or an epidural, yes, I was most definitely strong then too. But now? Barely getting thru the day and having difficulty doing the most basic tasks (like getting dressed, folding laundry, playing outside with my kids) - I'm not strong at all when I look at myself in those terms. But then I step back...it's perspective...again. I may not have the physical strength I had 20 years ago (or even 5 or 10 years ago), but I've gained strength mentally and spiritually that I would have never believed possible 5 years ago. I have found new strength, renewed strength in things like relationships...with friends, with family members, with myself...with God. I realize that my physical strength may not be what it once was (and most likely it will never be that way again) but my inner strength (strength I didn't even know I had until I was faced with what 2012 has brought me) has grown, matured, flourished in the face of these trials, set-backs, pain and uncertainty. I have grown in ways I never thought possible despite my declining physical strength. At times my mental strength is pitiful and I crumble but that's being human...and that's ok...and what I'm facing is painful and difficult, not just for me but for my husband, my children, my parents...everyone.  And so if someone makes mention of my 'strength,' I give it all to God's grace because without Him I wouldn't be able to get through all of this.

I see it like this: God is driving this train and I'm just going along for the ride. Granted, sometimes the ride is pretty bumpy and sometimes it feels like the train is going too fast and will derail at any moment. And if it does, He is with me; I am not alone. I will never be left alone. He promised and I trust Him. As isolating as this situation feels and as small as my physical world has gotten as a result of my pain and limitations - I am NOT alone. I think for the first time in my almost 40 yrs of life, I'm actually starting to believe that. And that's progress....HUGE progress from where I was 18 months ago! 

"My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will never be shaken." (Psalm 62:1-2)

6 Days To Go....

Well, this time next week, on Thursday night (11/15/2012), I will hopefully resting comfortably in ICU following what I hope and pray will be a very successful surgery. I'm trying to keep myself busy, mentally and physically - well, ok mostly mentally...the physically part basically consists of me walking my 7 month old yellow lab, Molson (as in the beer) around the block, but at least it gets me out of the house and doing something. I've also become highly skilled in the art of folding and refolding clothes - mainly my kids clothes - they could care less how long it took Mommy or Nana to meticulously fold their little shirts and pants and place them neatly in their drawers. They just rummage through them like the kitchen 'junk drawer' (c'mon, you know you have one too!) My husband and I went out for a loooooong overdue 'date night' last weekend and we had a great time. It was so nice to just sit and talk and not worry about whose touching who at the dinner table or whose tossing what they don't want to eat onto the floor. So this is what sanity feels like?!?!  It's been so long I forgot what it felt like, and it was just wonderful to get out with my husband, even if it was only for a few short hours. We have another 'date night' with my church group this Saturday night as well - - woo hoo for us - - going out 2 weekend nights in a row!  I can't wait to get out again; it will be our last date night for quite some time...

Mentally, it's been a bit harder for me to occupy the spaces of my brain and retain important or useful information  for more than a few minutes...and then I'm confused and the information and what I thought was correct becomes jumbled and incorrect. And if it requires more than 2 steps, forget it!  Ok, (1) open microwave, (2) insert strawberry PopTart....uh....oh yeah, press 'start' - NO, enter 20 seconds then press start. And be sure to remove the FOIL WRAPPING! You should SEE the sparks that fly when you don't (not that I know first hand or anything....I'm just saying...)  Anyway, if you ask anyone whose had regular contact with me, especially the poor (and very patient, understanding) teachers at my children's school, they'll tell you just how mushy my brain and memory has become. If I'm not forgetting this, I'm mixing up that. It's terrible. And for anyone who knows me....really knows me, they know that I am sooooooo not like that. Not all that long ago, I was sharp as a tack, had a list (and highlighter) for anything...no erasing, just rewrite the whole darn thing! Now I'm lucky if I remember to bring my phone, which contains the list of items I need at the store. And I'm no psychologist, but I'm fairly certain it's due to the amount of stress and anxiety I'm feeling at this point. If I'm not worrying about whether or not I'll be ok after all is said and done next week, I'm worrying about my husband, my 2 young children, my parents. All of this has taken such a toll on my family. And we're all exhausted...mentally, physically, spiritually...2012 was definitely NOT one of our better years and I'm very hopeful that 2013 will be alot better for us.

My friend at church, who is extremely active in a variety of ministries, including book studies sent me this excerpt from a book they're reading called "Unglued," by Lysa TerKeurst. In in, the author is discussing some Bible versus (Romans 12:2, 2 Corinthians 10:5, Jeremiah 29:11). She sent the following to me because when she was reading the book, she thought of me. It's no secret I've been struggling...with everything...I will end this post with an excerpt from the book that seems have my name written all over it...it is so unbelievably true no matter what mountain you're climbing or what stuggles you're dealing with.

"I can't control the things that happen to me each day, but I can control how I think about them. I can say to mgyself, 'I have a choice to have destructive thoughts or constructive thoughts right now. I can wallow in what's wrong and make things worse or I can ask God for a better perspective to help me see good even when I don't feel good. Indeed, when we gain new perspectives we can see new ways of thinking...But I couldn't just say it or think it. I had to believe it. And in order to believe it, I had to settle a matter of trust in my heart. Could I trust God and believe that He is working out something good even from things that seem no good? You see, if I know there is potential good hidden within each chaotic situation, I can loosen my grip on control. It's easier to loosen my grip when I can see the good. When I can't immediately see the good, loosening my grip becomes a matter of trust. Either way, as long as I believe - really believe - God is there and that He is out to do me good. I can stop freaking out trying to fix things on my own. I can rest in the fact that God is in control which means I can face things that are out of my control."

 

 

 

 

8 DAYS TO GO.....

 

The "8 Ball."  Am I behind it or in front of it?!?!  I have no idea why, but I like the look of a big black and white 8 ball staring me in the face. In "pool" or billiards, if you sink it, game over. I don't plan on sinking my eight ball anytime soon!  I look at that big 8 and I "feel" lucky, fortunate, blessed, whatever term you prefer. No idea why but I do. About a year ago, I said to my (new at the time) friend Heather, "I am so lucky to have found HOPE Church and to have made so many new friends here." She just smiled and got this funny look in her eyes and said say, "Oh Sweetie, luck had nothing to do with it - the Holy Spirit had His hands all over this one." And was absolutely right. Luck had NOTHING to do with it. I found myself saying that exact phrase to my Dad a few weeks ago when I took him to 'my church' - I had introduced him to the Pastor and my Dad said something like, "She is so lucky to have found such a wonderful church and so many wonderful friends here at HOPE." The Pastor and I looked at each other and then I smiled and said, "Dad, luck had nothing to do with it. The Holy Spirit had His hands all over this one." What a great moment.

Somehow 8 days seems like an eternity, yet it seems like it's right around the corner too...like next weeks' corner! I remember counting down the days until my very first surgery - I was so naive back then; totally blind as to the mountain I would have to climb once all was said and done. I remember being a little nervous but ir wasn't all-consuming; I was young and had no idea what I was about to do and just how much pain I would be in afterwards. In a way, it was good - sometimes not knowing is better - but I know now - and it doesn't help.

 

A person, I'll call her an 'acquaintance' (and she will remain anonymous) said to me a couple months ago when she learned of my upcoming surgery (with a bit of an 'edge' to her tone I might ad) ,  "Well it's probably like childbirth, right? Somehow your body just knows what to do and just does it?" "Uh NO! It's nothing like childbirth but thanks for offering your unbelievably idiotic point of view." I was so taken back by her comments, I just chalked it up to ignorance. Childbirth lasts for hours, some times 4 to 24 but it's only hours, (and yes in rare instances days) but it doesn't last weeks, months or years; childbirth was something I excitedly anticipated because in the end, we would get to hold our beautiful little baby in our arms; and childbirth was a magical, miraculous process that only women are blessed enough to experience. It reinforces our strength (Our poor husbands wouldn't last 2 minutes into labor! Sorry guys). Spinal fusion surgery is nothing like childbirth. Absurd! I guess I can't fault her for having no clue as to what it's like to go through something like this - it's like trying to explain heaven. You couldn't possibly describe it unless you've actually been there and even when you've been there and it's not your time and you come back, you still can't explain or describe it - unless you've been there! In hindsight, I think in her own way, she was probably trying to make conversation as well as try to ease my mind. Either way, it didn't work.

There is just no way on God's green earth I can compare this surgery to childbirth; having experienced both several times now, trust me on this one. When surgeons are pulling out DeWalt power tools and hammers, you know it's bad. Unless you've actually HAD this kind of excruciatingly painful, extensive, invasive, pain-so-bad-you-can't-imagine-it-if-you-tried surgery, then you can't (and shouldn't) attempt to compare it to anything (other than maybe open heart surgery)! I had both of my children au naturale...just me, myself and I working towards a common goal - get that baby out...and fast!!! At least with childbirth, there was a beautiful baby at the end...there was a "prize" - there was this teeny tiny, squishy, beautiful baby at the end of all that hard work and within 30 minutes of  I felt great! No so with this kind of surgery. I like to think that when I'm in that operating room, all the angels in my life will be crowded around me watching over me that there will hardly be any room for the surgeon and his team of physicians.

With this type of surgery, especially a 15-level fusion, there really IS no "prize." There is the 'chance' of a parting gift, like a 40% chance of 'some' pain relief. Daunting be very necessary. There is no magic cure for scoliosis - no pill, no exercise, no operation will ever get rid of it. It's painful, very painful at times. Scoliosis surgery gives no guarantee of pain relief, no guarantee of improved quality of life, and certainly no guarantee that significant complications can arise (like bleeding, infection, need for more surgery, non-fusion, hardware defect and most important, surgical competence of the man or woman operating on you!) Surviving the 8-10 hour surgery and not catching staph or some other kind of infection is like throwing the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl. You don't really "get" a prize. You get (at best) Happy Meal toy, which may or may not result in less pain, more mobility, less physical deformity and more life-living activities.You wake up in agony, remain there for days, then you're sent home (often still in extreme pain) to remain there some more. I'm not trying to be a downer but this is the reality of it. I'm just being honest - which is what I said I be when I first started this blog. Some may ask, "Then why even bother going through such an ordeal?" My answer is quite simply: "Them. Those two beautiful children pictured below that God gave me. They deserve to have their Mommy back and I'm going to try and give her to them."

As much I want to do this for ME and for the chance of a life with even a little less pain, I'm also doing it for those 2 beautiful kids. I'm going to try and give them "me" back - because I'm not the same "me" I was even a year or two ago. I'm grumpy, impatient, in constant pain. It's not their fault we can't go to the park, or zoo or on day trips or outings...it's mine..."Mommy's back hurts" - that's all they hear. And it's not fair to them (or me or my husband). It's become normal for us to stay in all the time. And when we DO go out somewhere, they're so excited! How sad is that??  As for this surgery, it's the only option I have right now. Right now, today, I'm merely existing. Going through the motions in constant pain. I don't whine and moan about it...but people who know me say they can "see it" - my facial gestures, the way I'm walking, just how I look. When you get to the point where I am, quite simply, what do you have to lose???  Nothing!!! When your kids refer to the hospital bed in the living room as "Mommy's bed" or 'Mommy's room," you know it has gotten bad. This hospital bed has sadly become another piece of furniture in my living room, like the couch and end tables. I sleep alone, every single night down here; I can't sleep in my own bed because I can't roll over with tugging on my husband and waking him with all my grunt-filled attempts at rolling over. My 12 yr old pup Macy keeps me company. But it is lonely. And it is time for something to go my way. And I'm praying that this surgery is it. I have plenty of time to think down here by myself - and so I dream of the time where I'll be able to kick a soccer ball with my son and not have to stop after 3 or 4 kicks b/c it just hurts too much; I would love, for once in my life, to NOT worry about how far or how long I'll have to sit in the car to go somewhere; to wake up or go to bed without all this pain; to sleep more than 3 hours every night; I would just love to have my life back.

 

With no other options on the table, I really AM looking the bull in the eye and saying "C'mon, I'm ready." And I am. I'm ready to have a chance of getting even a small portion of my LIFE back...I'm tired of being a spectator in my own life and it's time I got back into the game of life....of living life with my family, friends, etc; of going to the zoo or taking day trips to Ocean City. Now that I'm facing surgery #5 in just 8 days, my stomach is remembering all-too-well the pain that i will once again be facing. I have to admit though - that through every trial and tribulation, thru all of my ups and downs, through all of my physical gains and even the setbacks, I never threw my hands in the air said "That's it. I give up. I'm done." I can't...for the sake of my husband and children, I can't just give up and remain stuck here" thinking about all the things I'm missing out on and what I wish I could be doing. A family vacation - could you imagine!?!?! I'm tired of merely existing...therefore, I'm trusting God that He will carry me through this operation and recuperation - He is all that I need and He will carry me through the difficult times like He has done time and time again, whether I realized it at the time or not.

 

When every step is so hard to take
And all of my hope is fading away
When life is a mountain that I can not climb

You carry me, Jesus carry me.

You Are strength in my weakness
You are the refuge I seek
You are everything in my time of need

You are everything,

You are everything I need

When every moment is more than I can take
And all of my strength is slipping away
When every breath gets harder for me
You carry me, Jesus carry me

You are strength in my weakness
You are the refuge I seek
You are everything in my time of need
You are everything, You are everything I need

I need You
You are everything I need
I love everything about You

You are strength in my weakness
You are the refuge I seek

You are everything in my time of need



12 Days To Go...

Well, so much for the single-digit count down. Back to double digits.  But i just thought of something that will hopefully help me get through the next (almost) 2 weeks....#12 was (and still is) 'my number.' It was my number all through high school and college playing soccer and my little guy even got a #12 jersey when playing soccer (and it was completely random!)

Maybe that's a good sign. I don't really believe in 'lucky numbers' and good luck charms or anything but the #12 just pops off the page at me as I type this - - 12 days to go - - and hopefully after all is said and done, I'll be less of a spectator and more of a participant in the lives of my husband and children. Every Saturday, my son asks "Mommy are you coming to my soccer game today?" and every Saturday I have to tell him the same thing: "I doubt it buddy...it's a lot of walking and it's really far from the car to soccer fields. We'll see though." He's had 8 games and I've made it to a grand total of 2 and that was only 30' for each. I really want to go to his games and enjoy them and not be in so much pain; and I don't want my first thought to be 'how far is the walk' or 'is there anywhere to sit?' Pretty sad. But I can't beat myself up about it. I always make a big deal when he walks in after his games and my husband always takes pictures for me. So we manage. But I want nothing more in life than to have this surgery help my pain, even if it's just a little bit, so I can start living again.

 

There is so much to do and see and i feel like it's all just passing me by. So to get me out of my funk, I decided to make a list of my TOP 12 THINGS TO BE HAPPY ABOUT. So here it goes:

1. My wonderful husband who loves me, broken bones, grumpy days and all without hesitation

2. My two amazing children who gave me the gift of 'motherhood'

 







 

3. Stopping to smell the roses (or any other pretty flowers)...literally



4. Waiting for a sunrise...then watching the sunrise

5. Watching the sunset over the ocean...it's an amazing sight to see, as if the ocean swallows it up

6. Making new friends...and keeping them





7. Telling someone you love them...and meaning it...

8. Great big bear hugs.....



9. Falling in love....and staying there...

 

10. Watching your children sleep...

 





 

11. Sinking into a HOT BATH and drifiting away to anywhere but here...it's a place where pain  doesn't exist and bones and muscles don't hurt...

12. Watching the joy on your children's faces when they play in the leaves

 









Surgery Rescheduled....

Thursday, November 15th @ 8am

Cooper University Hospital

That's the big day, like it or not, that I'm (re)scheduled for surgery. It was the earliest possible day he could fit me in and with the hospital operating in 'Emergency Mode' on Monday & Tuesday, you can only imagine the number of surgeries that needed to be rescheduled. With 14 OR's and dozens upon dozens of patients who need to be rescheduled from being cancelled Monday and Tuesday, surgeons are scrambling big time to coordinate staff and Operating Rooms in order to reschedule their most pressing cases first. I guess I had what amounted to an adult temper tantrum. No throwing of objects or dropping to the floor and kicking my feet (I'd never be able to get back up! LOL) But it was a temper tantrum, no less.



I was in utter disbelief, shocked really. Not that I'm happy about having another surgery, but I was looking forward to it in a way, so that it would be over and done with by now and so I'd be home from the hospital enjoying Thanksgiving dinner (and my 40th birthday) sitting around the table with my family. Instead, I'll be spending all of the above either in the hospital (Cooper University Hospital) or at the rehab facility (Magee Rehab Hospital). The secretary actually told me how "lucky" I was with having gotten a surgery date so soon given that the hospital had to cancel dozens of surgeries on Monday and Tuesday due to Hurricane Sandy Now, I'm feeling A LOT of things these past few weeks and days, but lucky definitely isn't one of them. And to be perfectly honest, if this is how 'lucky' feels then I'd prefer to feel 'unlucky.' Here's how 'lucky' I am:

• I donated 3 pints of my own blood over the course of 3 consecutive weeks in preparation for this surgery. With rescheduling my surgery, 2 out of 3 will expire (one already has); I need a whole lot MORE than 1 meager little pint of blood. I decided to donate one more pint next Thursday and that's it. I just can't DO anymore than that. My arms are so black and blue and so sore from all the needle pricks and IV lines...one and done...that's all I can do. Of course there is always blood bank blood. I'll have to ask my surgeon if having a family or friend donate on my behalf would be ok (I'm A+) - several have offered and I might just have to take them up on it!
• My husband was supposed to be out of town during the week I was originally schedule to have surgery; well, his company rescheduled it for him and they cut the training down from 2 weeks to 1 since I was having surgery. Now, my husband WILL definitely be out of town during and after my surgery. So, we'll have to say our goodbyes on Monday and he won't be home until Friday or Saturday. The timing of all this just stinks. But boy oh boy, do I feel lucky!!!
• I'll almost certainly be spending my 40th birthday (which happens to be on Thanksgiving this year) in the hospital. Not at all what I had planned. But hey, blow up some latex-free (of course!) gloves and  tie them to a string and we have 'balloons' and 'guess that animal' games!  LOL! Afterall, I'm lucky!
• With my surgery being so close to the weekend (on a Thursday), I'll get the wonderful, oh-so- happy-to-be-at-work 'weekend staff' which usually isn't as good as the regular weekday staff. My surgeon has always told me from the start, "I will make sure you're scheduled for a Tuesday; that way i'll be there the rest of the week in case something comes up." Well, with 75+ patients cancelled for surgery Monday & Tuesday, he had to take what he could get so that I could have this done and so that he could reorganize his "team," which by the way he hand picked. He said at one point, "I could do your surgery at midnight, but I don't want just anybody in that OR with me. I want to pick them." That's also what is delaying things." It's certainly not ideal to have to wait another 2 weeks but to know that I will have the best of the best nurses, doctors, anesthesiologists, etc working with and monitoring me make me feel a lot better. AND it's better than waiting a month for surgery since he's booked into mid-December.

So, I'll do another blood donation and PRAY that I get someone very good this time. I've gotten one or two that were decent but overall, it's a process and necessity of surgery that I dread. I will keep all of you updated and post any changes, but for now - that's the story: surgery 11/15 at 8am.