It's been a rough month. I had surgery May 14th for a disc removal called Anterior Cervical Discetomy and Fusion (ACDF) It's the most common surgery for neck pain symptoms - in my case a pinched nerved caused by a problematic disc in the cervical spine. Typically the surgery is done through the front of the neck, hence the name This procedure is done in conjunction with a cervical spinal fusion to maintain stability where the disc was removed. (
from excerpt)
At any rate, I guess I didn't quite understand front of the neck. Oh I researched everything about the surgery, the risks involved, recovery, etc. But for some reason, I didn't quite understand they were going to cut my throat. Okay, that might be embellished, but that's what it feels and looks like.
The scar isn't as bad now as when I first removed the bandage, the day after surgery.
I liked my doctor, but he lacked a sense of humor, which, when I get nervous, I make jokes.
So the day of surgery, the anesthesiologist came in to speak with me. One of my daughter's and my hubby were with me. He had a great sense of humor. He said when I woke up I might notice some tiny pin holes in my forehead and feet. These were from needles they used to check my nerves. So, of course in my nervousness, I joked. "So you're going to make a voodoo doll out of me." He found it amusing. Later, my doctor didn't when he said they glued me rather than stitched me. Oh well so much for humor.
The next morning as I sat down to breakfast, they came in to draw blood - only took a few minutes and the scrambled eggs were still somewhat warm. Before I could swallow them - oh that's another story I'll get to in a minute- someone came in to take me for an x-ray. So much for scrambled eggs
Hubby was there- God bless him - he had come in at six (parking is horrible much later and with his emphysema walking is difficult, so to get a good spot, he came early) - I told him to ask for a new breakfast if they came for the tray. But the cold eggs were still there when I returned. So I told the guy who brought me back to tell the nurse. A new breakfast came.
So, while I was in x-ray, one of the nurses said I was 5 - 6 because she was in surgery with me the day before. "5-6? I'm only 5 - 3. What did you do stretch me? I asked.
She laughed and said, "that was the disc they removed."
"Phew, I was worried. First they used me for a voodoo doll, glued me back together, and I thought you stretched me."
Well, they thought it was funny.
At any rate, I was prepared for the sore throat from the tube they put down and I was prepared for the incision pain. Can't have surgery without it. But I wasn't prepared for the pain from swallowing. I mean just normal every day swallowing, not to mention food. Although I did read that I might be on a diet of smoothies, ice cream, puddings, and soup for a while (Notice I mentioned the good stuff first). But the first meal they brought was soup, chicken, potatoes, broccoli, and peaches. That surprised me. I ate the chicken noodle soup (three noodles in the whole bowl) and it went down fairly easy, albeit painful. I managed to eat the chicken, couldn't swallow the potatoes and the cubed peaches were of the canned variety, which would have been fine if they hadn't sat out and dried up. At any rate, it was still difficult to swallow. Dinner consisted of soup and a cheeseburger, which somehow I managed to eat and swallow- small bites for sure. The scrambled eggs were fairly easy to eat the next morning, but the toast forget, too hard to swallow.
At home that night I ate penne pasta and that was okay - soft. However the next night, I choked on a steak fry - should have known better. After that I stuck to a diet of smoothies, soup, and scrambled eggs, with orange creamsicles for snacks in between. The frozen delight helped numb my throat and made it easier to swallow. That lasted for the better part of two weeks. The sore throat only lasted a few days, but swallowing - well let's just say it's still sometimes difficult and even today (June 10th) as I write this the incision hurts and my throat feels funny, like something's stuck in it or it's crooked or something. Hard to describe. I'm sure most of its the weather. Rainy again today.
So needless to sat, I've not been writing much, but all of this reminded me of Aunt Beatrice Lulu and her experience with Traumatic Brain Injury TBI. in All's Well That Ends Well - book 2 of the Family Affair series. Poor thing couldn't do anything for weeks. Like her, it drove me crazy not to be able to do anything. Finally 3 weeks after the surgery the doctor cleared me - for housework - oh fun. I'm dying to get out between the rainy days to do some yard work. Nope not yet. Probably not for six more weeks, that's the next time I go back. That's going to be mid July - right, the weeds will be so overgrown, I won't be able to pull them. Plus with all the rain, they'd pull out easy right now. By then it's going to be hot - Did I ever tell you I'm not a fan of hot. I like warm. I can even handle the cold - you can dress for that - but hot, well suffice it to say you can only take off so much. Most of the hot summer days are spent inside with the air conditioning.
Anyway back to Aunt Beatrice Lulu, she wasn't allowed to do anything either. Here's an excerpt:
Excerpt from All's Well That Ends Well
I paid for the paint and went next door to the bank. I always went inside because I didn’t trust those machines. Besides, I never could get close enough to those damn things and had to get out of my car anyway. I counted my money, put it in my purse, and headed outside. What happened next even I couldn’t believe. I no more got to my car and something jabbed into my back. Someone grabbed my car keys. He popped the trunk and ordered me inside. Yeah, like I was going to climb in there willingly. Was he nuts? Apparently so, because he pushed what I assumed was a gun harder against my back. I swung my purse around. “I’ll teach you to sneak up on someone.” He ducked, grabbed me by the ankles and knocked me down. Damn, I didn’t expect that. “How dare you? You don’t know who you’re dealing with!” I kicked backwards and missed. “Stupid old lady.” He laughed the evilest laugh I’d ever heard. “I’ve been called a lot worse than that. Just ask my former students.” I twisted and tried to hit him. “I’ll teach you a thing or two.” Again I missed. I got up on my hands and knees, grabbed at his ankles. Walla, down he went. I climbed on top of him. He wasn’t getting away. Oh, no. “I’ve got you now.” At least I thought I did. Damn fool flipped me over, grabbed my arms behind my back. “Dumb bitch! We’ll see who teaches who.” He pulled me up, bent me damn near in half, and pushed me into the trunk. Fear tore through me. I tried to scream but no sound came out. I fell into the trunk, and he slammed the lid. Darkness engulfed me. My claustrophobia kicked in immediately. My breath bounced off the top of the trunk. I tried to move. My heart raced. Pressure weighed against my chest and face, like someone knelt on me or smashed a pillow over my head. I gasped for breath. Nausea rose in my throat, I gulped it back. My stomach cramped, twisted, knotted. Something strangled me, squeezed my neck tighter and tighter, cutting off my air flow. I was suffocating. God help me, I didn’t want to die. Air! I needed air. My breath came in short gasps. I tried to move, but my arms were pinned under me. I swallowed and gagged. Finally, I laid still. I was going to die and no one would find me. I’d never see Ed again. Would he miss me? Come looking for me? Probably, but he wouldn’t know where to look. How soon would he realize I was missing? My life couldn’t end this way, could it? Suddenly reason returned. I had to breathe. I managed several deep breaths. Think. I needed to think. I twisted around and tried kicking the trunk lid. Of course it didn’t give. Tears slid down my cheeks. The trunk had a safety latch inside. If I could reach it, I could be free, or at least get some air. If I could just see. I moved my left arm, freed the other one from under me, and felt around. The latch had to be there somewhere. I pushed, pulled, and yanked everything I touched.
At last, the lid released. Light flowed in. I held onto the latch to prevent the trunk lid from opening all the way. We were moving, and I didn’t want to alert the guy driving. At least I had air. I peeked out. Nothing looked familiar. I had no idea where we were. We’d been driving a long time. Where was he taking me? Worse, what were his plans for me? I wasn’t about to find out, but I knew he was going too fast for me to jump out. The fall would probably kill me. If a car would come up behind me maybe I could signal to him. I remembered my phone. If I could just find my purse. I let in a little more light, tried to position myself to look around. There, at the back of the trunk. Moving around in the confined space wasn’t easy. I caught my purse with my foot, eased it toward me as far as my foot could move. Thankfully, far enough to grab it with my free hand. I felt around inside. Success, I grabbed my phone. Within seconds I pressed 911. “9-1-1 what is your emergency? “Help, I’ve been kidnapped. I’m in the trunk of my car.” “Can you give me your location?” “I have no idea. I was at my bank on the corner of Pearl and West 14th. We’ve been driving for a while, but I have no idea which way we’re headed. The car slowed, came to a stop, hopefully at a traffic light. I looked out, saw the street sign. “I’m at the corner of Parkbrook and Oakpark. I’m getting out.” Now was my chance. The trunk lid sprung open. I positioned myself to jump out. Not an easy feat considering my weight, but determination overruled. No more did my feet hit the ground and a siren sounded in the distance. The driver flung his door open. He looked me full in the face for a second, then took off running. I leaned against the bumper, heart beating so hard I thought it’d pop out of my chest. Never in my life had I been so scared. As if I suddenly realized the danger, my knees buckled. Dizziness overcame me. I came to with Callie leaning over me. “Aunt Beatrice Lulu, are you okay?” She knelt down next to me. “What happened?” I tried to sit up. “Just lay still, an ambulance is on its way.” “An ambulance? For what? “You hit your head pretty hard when you fell. You need to be checked out.” “I fell?” Again I tried to sit up, got dizzy, and fell back. Sirens sounded in the distance. My head hurt. “Yes, don’t you remember? You called 911 and said you were kidnapped. I got here just in time to see you fall. I’m sure you’ve got a doozy of a bump.” I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. I didn’t remember falling. Everything was foggy. Part of me remembered getting out of the trunk. I closed my eyes. It hurt too much to think. “I’ll call Uncle Ed to meet us at that hospital. Someone will drive your car to the station.” I opened my eyes for a minute as the EMTs put me on the gurney and wheeled me to the ambulance. All I wanted was sleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but Ed stood at my bedside when I woke. “You gave me quite a scare, honey pot.” He leaned down and kissed me. “You’ve got something called Traumatic Brain Injury, a type of concussion. You’ll have to take it easy for a while.” “Okay.” I didn’t have it in me to argue. My head hurt, and I was so tired I just wished he’d let me be. The room spun and nausea rose to my throat. I closed my eyes. At some point someone had put a collar around my neck. I didn’t know why, didn’t care. Suddenly my stomach
erupted and I threw up. I think a nurse came in and cleaned me up, but I can’t be sure. It might have been Ed. “They’re going to keep you overnight for observation,” someone said. Ed stood next to me, stroking my brow. Other people hovered over me, asking questions, looking in my eyes. I just wanted to sleep. Why didn’t everyone leave me alone? I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to talk. I must have dozed off again because next thing I knew an orderly woke me to take me to my room. Ed walked next to me, holding my hand. For the first time I saw the worry on his face. I didn’t remember exactly what happened, but had a vague memory of lying on the ground and Callie kneeling next to me. A nurse helped settle me in the room, talking softly and only turning on a dim light. I hated hospitals, doctors, and anything connected with them. Hated getting sick. To me it was a sign of weakness. At that moment, I didn’t care. Nothing I wanted more right then was to lie back and be taken care of. The nurse left and Ed came in and took my hand. Much as I loved him, I’d rather be left alone. Left to sleep and get rid of the throbbing in my head. I didn’t even care what happened. How or why I was there didn’t matter. Maybe tomorrow I’d care. “Go ahead and sleep, Bea. I’ll be here when you wake up.” The next time I woke up, a nurse stood over me, asking me questions. My head wanted to explode. Yet, it was like watching from outside my body. A weird feeling, I might add. It seemed every hour someone woke me, asked me a bunch of questions, and finally they gave me something for the pain. Someone, a doctor I think, asked me what happened. The last thing I remembered was staring at my kidnapper. I’d never forget that face. I didn’t remember falling. Callie told me I did, but you couldn’t prove it by me, except for the bump on my head. A nurse came in with soup a few minutes later and fed it to me. It’s not easy to eat soup lying flat even if you’re being fed. I think I wore more of it than I swallowed. They wouldn’t allow me to raise my head. Right! All I wanted was more pain meds. The next day they allowed me to go home. Never had I felt more outside myself. I didn’t know which way to turn. Everything moved in slow motion, and I waited for someone to tell me what to do. I couldn’t wait to get into bed and spent a week there allowing Ed to take care of me. Ed’s always spoiled me, waited on me, and pampered me, but never had I seen him so patient. Words formed in my head but wouldn’t roll off my tongue. Talking in full sentences became impossible. Stringing two words together was difficult at best, and frustration overwhelmed me. Pretty much all I wanted was sleep. Even the light from the windows hurt. Ed covered it with a blanket. I made several visits to the doctor – Ed took me because I wasn’t allowed to drive – my skull hurt and they prescribed strong pain medication. I admit it worked, but it also put on weight, and more weight I didn’t need. After a couple weeks I decided to go off it. I hated this feeling of helplessness. Other than doctor’s appointments, I didn’t leave the house, not even to sit outside, for almost two months. I walked around in a fog, unsure of myself, and found it difficult to speak. Poor Ed was a saint. Crying jags erupted for no reason and bouts of depression. No matter what Ed said or did, it didn’t help. Ethel paid me daily visits to no avail. Sometimes I spoke to her, sometimes I sat and cried. My mother, sisters, and nieces were so supportive. When I became frustrated, one of them would remind me I’d suffered a TBI – traumatic brain injury. Of
course, they’d tease and try to make me laugh by saying, “At least you know you have a brain.” I will admit, it often made me smile. The first time I went outside it felt like I’d not been out in years. Ed did an amazing job cleaning up the yard and taking care of my flowers. The trees started to turn and fall. It smelled good and the cobwebs in my brain finally cleared. I couldn’t wait to venture out by myself. That was by far the worst period of my life, and I’m still easily distracted, but Ed claims I’ve always been like that. Maybe so, but time goes on, and Ed promised a trip to the cabin. I could hardly wait. Callie stopped by with a batch of photos to look through. The first time she showed them to me, I could barely focus, and I agreed to go through them again. Unfortunately none of the men looked familiar. My kidnapper remained at large. For the first time in my life I didn’t feel like investigating. I didn’t like what was happening to me.
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