November 10, 2015, the day of my back surgery was finally
here. As I was one of the first ones to
have surgery I had to be at the hospital at 5:30 in the morning. I was taken back to get ready and then I had
to wait probably close to an hour before the different doctors and nurses
started showing up. A resident
anesthesiologist came and started my IV.
I wasn’t very happy with him because he didn’t bring an ultrasound
machine with him like it specifically said to do on my chart. He was kind of arrogant and said he didn’t
need a machine to get my IV in, I wasn’t convinced. He did get the IV in on the first try but had
to dig around my hand a lot to get the vein.
It was pretty painful and I wasn’t impressed with him. Soon after that my neurosurgeon came in and
went over everything with my parents and me again. My pacemaker was then checked to make sure it
was good and then I was taken back into the operating room.
Once I was in the operating room another anesthesiologist
came into the picture as well as other O.R. nurses. I was given an oxygen mask to hold over my
nose and mouth while the resident anesthesiologist placed my arterial
line. Since I hate the smell of plastic
I did not place the oxygen mask over my nose and mouth, instead I held it a
good distance away from my face. The
first attempt at an arterial line did not work so I had to endure the pain once
again as the anesthesiologist tried placing it in my other arm. Having an arterial line placed is more
painful than having an IV placed. For
the arterial line an ultrasound machine was used and the line was finally
placed successfully. I always dread
having an arterial line because I always have to be awake when they are
placed. If I didn’t have heart problems
then I would never have to have one.
Once all my lines were in place the anesthesiologist took over the
oxygen mask I was holding and put it up to my nose and mouth. Thankfully I didn’t have to endure it there
that long before I was given medicine that made me fall asleep. Normally once I am given the medicine to
make me fall asleep I am out until I reach the recovery room and slowly start
to come to. That didn’t happen this time
around. After I had fallen asleep I was
intubated and then I woke up, which wasn’t supposed to happen. I understand enough medical terminology to
know what was being said by the nurses and doctors. They were about ready to turn me onto my stomach
to start the back surgery. I was
freaking out! This had never happened to
me before. I couldn’t open my eyes and I
felt like I was paralyzed. I tried to
move my head, arms, hands, and legs, anything that would let someone know I
wasn’t asleep. At the same time I was
praying as hard as I could that someone would notice. I don’t know if someone noticed or if they
just decided to give me more medicine because I was soon out of it again and
this time didn’t wake up until I was in the recovery room. That had to be one of the scariest
experiences I’ve ever been through.
I stayed in the recovery room for about a half hour where I
slowly started waking up and had to keep asking for pain medicine and anti-nausea
medicine to help with my nausea. I was
then taken to the neuro acute care unit where I would stay, while in the
hospital. Once I was settled and made
sure my parents were in the room I fell asleep again and tried to sleep off all
the anesthesia. When I woke back up I
was a little more with it and then more doctors were called to set up my
epidural and other pain pumps. In order
for them to get to the epidural I had to roll onto my side. It was kind of painful, although I remember
it being more painful when I was nine. Everything
got set up and I was given a button I could push whenever I was in pain. It would administer pain medicine when I
pushed it. I had the pain pump and
epidural in while I had to stay flat on my back for two days.
During my first night my oxygen levels started dropping into
the low 80’s, upper 70’s. Every time I
would drop a machine would start beeping.
Since my oxygen would drop every time I was asleep I had to wear a nasal
canal to make sure I was constantly getting oxygen. I hated it and tried to fight it but I didn’t
win. When I was awake I was able to take
off the nasal canal because my oxygen would stay in the 90’s but I never stayed
awake for very long. Once I was off the
pain pump and epidural my oxygen levels stayed in the 90’s and I no longer had
to wear the nasal canal when I slept.
One of the things I was dreading after the surgery was
having my legs being hyper sensitive like they were the last time I had back
surgery. I was hoping this wouldn’t be
the case this time but wasn’t surprised to find out that both of my thighs were
hyper sensitive. It’s a very strange
feeling and extremely painful. A single
touch to my thighs would cause immense pain.
When blankets were put on me it had to be done very carefully. The slightest touch of a blanket would cause
pain. My doctors were puzzled by this
and gave me some nerve medicine to see if that would take away the
sensitivity. It didn’t. My dad remembered a medicine I had taken when
this happened to me when I was nine. The
doctors didn’t believe that the medicine my dad had mentioned was the right one
because at the time it was being tested as an asthma medicine. After doing some research the PA working with
my neurosurgeon came back and told us that it did help with nerve pain. I was given this medicine but it didn’t
really help so I eventually stopped taking it.
Before I had surgery I had in my mind a vision of how the
surgery would go. The surgeon would get
all the scar tissue out that had built up from two previous tethered spinal
cord surgeries, I would be up and walking a couple days after surgery, and I
would be home by the weekend.
Unfortunately that’s not what happened.
That first night after my surgery I asked my parents how it went. My dad asked me if I really wanted to
know. From those words and my dad’s tone
of voice I knew that the surgery didn’t go as planned. I was told that only a part of the scar
tissue could safely be removed. The rest
of the scar tissue had already fused itself to my spinal cord and is strangling
it. The surgeon couldn’t tell what was
scar tissue and what was spinal cord.
Not wanting to do anything dangerous he decided to end the surgery and
closed me up. He told my parents that I
can never have this kind of surgery again and he didn’t know what the future
held for me. I was surprised by this
news. It definitely wasn’t good and not
what I was expecting. But there wasn’t
anything I could do about it. The
surprises didn’t end there. After two
days of lying flat on my back I was finally allowed to start moving my bed up
and get into a sitting position and eventually get out of bed and start
walking. I made it to a sitting position
and moved to sit on the side of my bed alright.
It was painful but I could do it.
When I got out of bed I had my dad and a nurse help me which was a good
thing. I went to stand up and I pretty
much collapsed and fell back onto my bed.
I was dead weight. It took my
nurse, my dad, and couple CNA’s to get me back up in bed. I found out that I couldn’t stand, balance, or
walk. It took me a couple of days to
process this.
The weekend came and
two therapists came to evaluate me. They
helped me stand by my bed but had to hold me up because I couldn’t do it
myself. My parents and I were told that
I was a candidate for rehab and that my case would be discussed on Monday. My brother and his family came to see me and
my dad had my brother help him move me to a chair so I could get out of
bed. It took a lot of strength for them
to get me from my bed to the chair which was only a couple feet away. After my brother and his family left my
parents and I started discussing all the pros and cons of me going to rehab versus
me going home. The idea of going to
rehab did not sit well with me. I did
not want to go. I wanted to go home and
was convinced that I would make more progress at home. I was pretty emotional all day because I
couldn’t believe this had happened to me.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
After thinking about what to do my dad asked me if I had prayed about
it. I told him I hadn’t. I hadn’t prayed about it because I was afraid
that the answer would be that I needed to go to rehab and I didn’t want that
answer. But I decided to pray about it
because I really didn’t know what to do.
My first prayer when something like this, “Heavenly Father, I can’t
walk. I don’t want to go to rehab, I
just want to go home. What should I
do?” I waited and didn’t get an
answer. I then thought about when the
savior was in gethsemane and was praying to the Father asking him to take away
the bitter cup but then said “not my will but thine be done.” I decided to change my attitude and I prayed
again. This time my prayer went
something like this, “Heavenly Father, I can’t walk. I don’t want to go to rehab, I just want to
go home. But if I need to go to rehab
then okay. What should I do?” I waited and after a minute or so a scripture
came into my mind. I turned to this
scripture and continued to read past the one verse that came into my mind. It was D&C 121:7-10. I likened it to myself and this is how I read
it. 7. Sarah, peace be unto thy soul;
thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; 8. And then,
if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over
all thy foes. 9. Thy friends do stand by
thee, and they shall hail thee again with warm hearts and friendly hands. 10. Thou art not yet as Job; thy friends do
not contend against thee, neither charge thee with transgression, as they did
Job. This was the answer to my prayer. I needed to go to rehab. I wasn’t happy but I accepted the
answer. I told my parents I got my
answer and then I just had to wait to hear if my case would be accepted and if
the insurance would approve rehab.
Throughout the
weekend I had different physical therapists come and work with me. They would help me stand up and hold me up as
I practiced swaying my body from one leg to the other. They also had me do some other exercises to
help build my muscle strength in my legs which was gone. Since I figured I would be going to rehab I
decided I wanted to be able to kind of walk by the time I got down there. My dad liked to keep me exercising and
working my legs and he asked me on Sunday afternoon what exercise I wanted to
do. I told him that I wanted to walk and
that I wanted to take a shower. He was
all for it and he held onto me while I held onto his arms and I started to
walk. I was slow and both of my knees
liked to buckle but I made it into the bathroom and was able to shower. It felt great to have accomplished
something. From that point on I started
walking more with my dad.
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