I spent months preparing for my upcoming spine reconstruction surgery. We prepared family, friends, kids, the house, cars, meals, clothes, rooms and so much more to be physically ready. Was I? No! As I stood at the check-in desk at 5am last Monday morning my heart raced as my last 2 hours of life as I'd always known it clicked away. I checked in and sat with my mom as Mike parked the car. They banded my arm, the beginning of the end, it felt. As walked to the elevators to go to the 7th floor a child written letter fell out of my purse. Through my quickly found tears, I read very sweet mature words from a child who feared they would never see their mother again. I quickly typed back a text: got your letter, loved it, love you, see you soon <3 Mom.
The elevators opened, we all three walked up to the next desk and signed in. I was standing in between mom and Mike, looking like a scared white rabbit about to scurry away at the first startle when the receptionist asked, "Good morning Shelli, are these your parents?" Hehe, mom and I both felt complimented. We sat and waited for our names to be called. I paced, went to the bathroom, checked my phone....
Finally, they brought us back and ran lines into my veins, introducing me to teams of anesthesiologists, nurses, surgeons. Their initials were written on my back with black sharpie, papers to sign and belongings to check. Then it was time, I had to say goodby to the last two most important people in my life. I started crying, begged them to let me go home, asked where I could run, why did I have to do this again? A simple kiss on the cheek and I love you and away I was pushed to the Operating Room. I closed my eyes tight so as not to know what was my reality. The last words I heard were breath in nice and slow.
The next words I heard were "Shelli, this is your wake up test!" The wake up test is when half way through the surgery they wake you up and have you move your extremities. It helps the surgeons gauge paralysis risks and how well you were tolerating this major operation. I heard it again in a different voice, then another saying move your hands, Shelli, another move your feet Shelli. Shelli can you move? After at least 6 commands that seemed upset with me I was back out.
My eyes opened after the max of 13 hours of reconstruction surgery had been performed on my body. That was the most they would allow. I remember very little, my moms exhausted face, husbands smile, father in law and step mother in law saying we love you....and my feet and hands paddling like a duck. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming running on repeat in my head. That was day one!
No comments:
Post a Comment