I have managed to wrangle three surgeons together to get three procedures done at the same time on June 19th. Wrangling three surgeons and getting them to agree on anything, especially from three different disciplines, is well nigh impossible and the experience isn’t something I would wish upon anyone.

The procedures in of themselves are rather minor – laproscopically removing my gall bladder, getting rid of a huge stone in my urinary bladder and finally (after 15yrs of tears) the perineal repair. But I am highly concerned to the point of being afraid. My last surgery it appears, from what I can discern from the notes, that I was declining on the operating table and they could not complete everything that was needed as there was a concern that I may never wake up. I did manage to wake up, and saw my dad holding my hand. He stayed with me in my hospital room for about half an hour and then went home. I fell asleep and woke up 5 days later in ICU – seems my blood pressure dropped to fairly dangerous levels and what saved me was that since I was freshly out of surgery the nurses were taking my vitals rather frequently.

I mentioned to a lady that I always cry before being wheeled into the OR because I always believe that I will never wake up. For those who have never had surgery it is a very lonely experience. Granted, your loved ones are there with you in the prep area, waiting for you to be wheeled off. What those loved ones do not realise is that you are not wheeled immediately into the OR. You are wheeled off to a holding area, with no support whatsoever around you. The only people about are the doctors, nurses and other staff necessary for the OR who are running about getting ready while you just lie there, all alone, terrified.

I don’t remember this for my first surgery, when I was 2 weeks old. Obviously no one would have told an infant this nor would it be expected for an infant to realise they were about to be sliced. I do remember my second surgery, when I was 4yrs old and I remember crying. I cried when I was 11, 17, 22, 24, 27, and 37.

So no, I am not some super strong individual who can take all of this.

I cried yesterday, mostly cos I just want one day .. just one f*cking day of no pain, not having to take any antibiotics or think about whether nor not this next meatball will set off a gall bladder attack. So no, I have very little sympathy for those individuals who’s greatest complaint in life is that they have a cold.