COVID-19 Blog: Surgery Share

May 27, 2020

I wrote this entry in January of 2020, a few months after I had spinal surgery. I re-read my first entry before I began writing this update. Here I explain what surgery was like for me - an emotional roller coaster and one heck of a day:

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I look back on this writing and still feel it so freshly today. I ended up having the surgery on November 15th, 2019. I don’t know what I expected coming out of surgery. I had heard stories of extreme cases on both sides. One person woke up from surgery and noticed all of their nerve pain was gone - they never needed to deal with chronic pain ever again. Another person didn’t see any relief from the surgery.

It was an emotional decision to make to have the surgery and an emotional day when it actually happened. I spent 15 hours in the hospital. I arrived at the hospital with my parents at 5:30 am. I was one of the first surgeries of the day. I had a bad reaction while having an IV put in my hand - I basically almost fainted and my adrenaline levels shot up. I sweat so much during this reaction that I had to get toweled off by my nurse and my Mom and get another hospital gown before I could meet with my anesthesiologist. I was humiliated and felt helpless as two other people patted me down with towels, trying to dry me off. I started crying when the doctor walked in and the nurse told him that I had a bit of a reaction to the IV. Everyone kept telling me that it was a natural reaction to have, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just another instance of my body failing to stand on its own.

From there, the anesthesiologist came to meet me and walk me to the operating room. This part is a bit of a blur. I remember talking to some of the assisting nurses, not able to shut my mouth because I was so nervous and scared. They also assured me that nervousness was normal, saying surgery was scary for everyone. The next thing I know, I was waking up in a hospital bed, groggy and with a searing pain in my back. My parents were let in to see me shortly after, but I was in and out of sleep for quite some time.

I had always planned to go home the same day or surgery. Apparently this had not been communicated to anyone who was dealing with me in the recovery space. The nurses told me that I had to be able to walk and pee on my own before I could be released. I felt silly when they told me this. I thought, how hard could those things be? The time had come for me to try and sit up on the side of the bed. Instant nausea and the sweats returned. I felt dizzy and needed to lay back down for another two hours before I was allowed to try again.

My second attempt to sit up was more successful. I slowly stood up, while a nurse took control of my rolling IV bag. My walk was slow, but purposeful. I wanted to show them that I was serious about going home. After walking up and down the hallway a few times, the nurse and I went into the bathroom. She had to help me lower myself onto the toilet and I kept apologizing for not being able to do things myself. I felt like I had to pee, but nothing was happening. When I tried to force it, I felt pressure on the incision on my back.

Another hour or so passed and I was now in a relatively large amount of pain because I couldn’t pee. I didn’t know what to do and the nurses weren’t checking in on me much. It felt like I was losing my mind in helplessness and started crying again. My parents saw this and got the nurses to come back. They said they had to do an ultrasound to see if I had a full bladder and then they could put a catheter in to relieve the pain. I already knew that the ultrasound would show a full bladder. I could tell by how bloated my lower abdomen was and the pressure I felt, but couldn’t release. I’d never had a catheter put in and was honestly terrified. The nurse seemed annoyed with me and gave me a shot of something to calm me down. In retrospect, the catheter was not that bad and the relief of an empty bladder was a welcome change, but I couldn’t control my emotions at this point.

It took about another hour post catheter for me to feel like I had a full bladder again. I was pushing fluids and had an IV bag still attached to me also. When I went into the bathroom to try again, my parents and the nurse were waiting outside the door. I hadn’t felt so much pressure to perform in the bathroom since I was potty training. After a minute or two, when I could finally relieve myself, I shouted through the door, “I’m peeing!!” with such genuine glee that I started crying again.

After this, I was allowed to slowly have my Mom help me get dressed. My discharge form was signed and I hobbled my way to my parents car. It had now been a little over 15 hours since I had gotten to the hospital. One hour later, I was back at my parents house. My mother forced me to eat half a cup of soup with my cocktail of meds, the soup being the first food that I had eaten all day. I went to sleep right after and slept over 12 hours.

I think back to that day, now almost three months ago, and it still makes me feel things that I would rather not feel. After two years of trying the conservative approach, I still do believe that surgery was the right decision. That being said, recovery is frustrating and SLOW.

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Vulnerability is NO joke. Being pushed into it makes it even harder, in my opinion. But like I've said before, having to sit with my own vulnerability (even if it wasn't my choice) has allowed me to become more comfortable with it. I have one more entry to share during this month of May that will talk more about the struggles of recovery and the added stress of the COVID-19 outbreak.

Stay tuned.

-Vicky