So What’s the Problem?

I’ve been sitting here this afternoon exploring different things that I’m trying to cope with right now.  One of those things being an upcoming surgery in March.

I’m so scared.  It may be silly, but I can’t stand the thought of having to stay overnight in the hospital again.  This surgery is to correct a bad surgery I had in 2006.  The trauma that resulted emotionally is immeasurable.  I really felt violated by this doctor, who sent me home to die basically.  The complications began right after I arrived home.  I was rushed back to the hospital by ambulance and immediately admitted to ICU.  After three days of no diagnosis (my doctor claimed he had no idea what had happened and everything appeared normal), it was decided to just treat me for the current issues that were presenting rather than try to discern the true problem.  I was given two blood transfusions.  As I watched the blood from other people slowly feed into my veins, I wrote out a will in pencil.  I felt resigned and hopeless.  I realized that I had nothing to leave anyone.  Nothing tangible.  My kids and husband would have memories, but that was it.  I had literally done nothing with my life up to that point.  I worked meaningless jobs that were unsatisfying, and played house.  I struggled in my mind wondering if I would ever leave that shitty hospital room with the dim window and no good TV.  I felt so isolated; if I did get out, I would be good at so many things – no more regrets. 

The transfusion was a success, and I was sent home on the sixth day.  All I could do was manically attack every challenging thing subject I could pursue.  I put more time into my art and writing.  I actually began reading fine print in contracts and books.  I studied every subject that interested me with zeal.  I embraced my children’s lives and poured myself into their desires as well.  We went rollerskating and hiking, read at the library and made pottery together.  I was going to live my life and be happy and no one could stop me.

Then the chronic pain started.  My belly was on fire and I couldn’t sleep or eat without crying.  I tried to see other doctors, but because of my history and the surgeries, they were hesitant to help me.  I ended up returning to the doctor who had messed me up in the first place.  He performed another surgery which he stated was successful, yet I still had pain.  He could give no explanations.  Furious, I demanded my records and I left.  I would make appointment after appointment with different doctors only to suffer referral after referral.  I would be denied care in the guise of lack of expertise in what I was experiencing.  Finally I was referred to the top doc in my area and on Wednesday I had the opportunity to meet with him.  He has  specialized in this particular field of medicine for years.  He immediately knew what the problem was.  I was so excited to have answers, but at the same time so sad.  There were two issues to address.  The first can be handled with medications, yet surgery was inevitable for the second issue.

I’ve been panicking trying to cope with what I’ll do if I end up in trouble again on the surgery table.  I know in my logical mind that what happens there is totally out of my control, my emotions want me to cancel the procedure.

If only I had a magical crystal ball…….

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~ by blanketgirl on January 18, 2008.

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