All about my pre-op appointment!

By now I may have already called you and shouted my good news into your ear, but just in case you are reading and I haven't or you didn't get my detailed, play by play, action packed version, this entry is for you…

As I mentioned in this blog previously, I had a pre-op appointment with the surgeon who put in my pain pump yesterday.  Pre-op as in I want surgery to get this useless, treatment preventing, P.O.S. out!  My mom drove me to Boise the night before and we stayed with my grandparents.  That was wonderful.  I don't get to see them enough and we got to visit all evening, have coffee early the next morning before my 9AM appointment, and then have brunch after the appointment.

I dreaded the appointment.  I hadn't slept much in days and days and days.  I was running on E.  But my mom was there.  So I knew I would be okay.

The office was pretty deserted when we arrived.  I filled out paperwork, we were brought into a tiny exam room, and saw the surgeon's P.A. fairly quickly.  I explained why I wanted the pump out, she wrote it all down, and left.  Then we waited.  And waited.  And waited for the surgeon.  When he finally came in he just opened the door and sat down on the exam table without saying a word.  He read my chart and then said, "This all looks doable."

I breathed a sigh of relief.  I looked at my mom, who was recording the appointment, and we both held the same expression.  He went over a few options in case I wanted to keep the pump and I said no.  He also explained that he doesn't put in pumps anymore because they found the pumps just haven't had the success they thought they would.  Now they just use them for cancer patients who are at the end of their lives and need massive dosages of pain medication.

He said it would be a simple, outpatient surgery and because of this, I could get schedule in about two weeks.  At this point I think my mom and I were bursting trying to keep in our joy; we thought it would take months to get in since it had taken months just to get the pre-op appointment.

The surgeon explained there are a few possible complications.  Because the catheter would be removed from my spinal column, there is a distinct possibility I could leak spinal fluid and have another spinal headache.  If so, more blood patches and if that doesn't work, very serious surgery to repair it.  Another possibility is that a piece of the catheter could break inside me and if that happened, they would just leave it.  They have found it doesn't hurt me and trying to dig it out causes more harm than good.

At first I was really worried about the possibility of another spinal headache.  I don't think I have experienced anything more painful, more awful than the month I suffered through that.  But then I got thinking.  The catheter isn't in my spinal column.  It's stuck right outside, held in place by scar tissue.  I might be just fine!

When the appointment was over, and we were in the elevator, my mom and I high-fived and got our happy dance on.  In the parking lot I shouting and danced.  I get to have my miserable, constantly beeping pump taken out!  And soon!  This feels miraculous.

And he was decent and professional.  Probably because my mom was there.  He was arrogant and his bedside manner left much to be desired, but he was decent enough.  I had been so worried about him being mean to me again.

Here is the other part that feels miraculous: I'm not angry anymore.  I'm fine.  I don't feel the need to confront him or tell him he ruined my life.  I don't even feel like he ruined my life anymore.  I feel like a huge weight has been lifted and I can breathe again.  I was able to face a huge fear and come out the other side braver, stronger, and better for it.  I feel peace again.  Last night I slept better than I have in weeks.

On the way home from Boise I got a call from the surgeon's office.  My surgery is scheduled for Wednesday, May 4 at 6AM.  I couldn't be happier.