Post Surgery

This past week has been somewhat life changing for me. I am struggling to know where to start as tears are rolling down my face, but start I will because in doing so I hope that perhaps anyone reading this may draw strength from my own experience.

I was born with a congenital condition. you can read more about it here I survived it and more than that I learnt to thrive. Some of us back then didn’t, because like a lot of these things, other abnormalities and conditions became apparent. Some don’t even get discovered until much later on in life. But I was one of the lucky ones and defied the medical field which I hope to again given my current situation.

So fast forward 41 years, my deaf ear that I had since birth, that I have lived with, adapted to and come to accept as part of my identity, I chose to explore the possibilities of finding a way forward to being able to hear. I was informed that technology has progressed so much, that definitely something could be done. In fact in the end I was offered three options. Conventional Hearing aids, Bone Anchor hearing aids and most excitingly, a ‘Corrective procedure’ which entailed getting inside the inner ear and replacing or fixing any one of the tiny bones that wasn’t connecting so that I would finally be able to transfer sound directly through my inner ear.

I took months to think these options through and then when I was given the demonstration Bone Anchor kit to trial, for the first time in my 41 years I discovered what I had been missing all this time. My quality of life was transformed. I have written about that experience and will publish it in another post.

Basically after more soul searching I decided to go for the corrective procedure. I was assured that the risks were low and I was happy and comfortable with my consultant in charge. He had done thousands before and no such incidents had ever occurred. Unfortunately for us all, it turns out, my original CT scans were not studied in depth.

Lesson number one. Always trust your own instincts. I had a niggling doubt, I cannot explain why, but I was concerned about the risk to my nerves. Call it intuition. I brushed it aside because I wanted desperately for this to work and I did trust my surgeons judgement.

So surgery date was last Thursday. A last chat with my surgeon assuring me that he would look after me. He had a kind face. Always smiling, I got the impression during all my appointment visits leading up to that day that he was held in high regard by all his colleagues, from way up top, down to all the nurses and anaesthetists. Because I don’t hear very well, I learnt over the years to gather information in other ways. Through body language and to sense invisible threads that tie and tangle each and every one of us together. My sense felt comfortable.

The procedure took about 1.5 hours. I woke up from a dream where I was running through a beautiful meadow. And then I tried to smile but couldn’t. My surgeon approached me with a somewhat worried expression on his face. He told me that I needed to stay in overnight because he wanted to give me another CT scan and access my progress over the next few hours. I was a most peculiar case he said.

I still wasn’t that worried and I was wheeled off to the ward. The other ladies who had undergone similar procedures to me were throwing up and feeling pretty unwell. I had a silent chuckle to myself gloating at the fact that at least I wasn’t sick! I even got out my bed and remade it because my sheets were so twisted up, I accidentally pressed the emergency button, apologized and slinked back into bed before I caused anymore mishaps. I waved to the lady opposite once she recovered herself and then shortly after, I was wheeled back downstairs for the CT scan.

When I was told the news, I was more shocked by the reaction of the nurse who was with me than with my own predicament that I was suddenly faced with.

Lesson number two. Don’t allow other people’s own fears confuse your own because we all have our own realities according to our perceptions. Our experiences may look the same on the outside but they are not felt the same.

I learn later, that her 8yr old daughter had undergone minor surgery that sadly went wrong and at the age of 14, she is still in chronic pain. I explained the best I could that I wasn’t in pain and that I wasn’t scared and I would get through this. I tried to muster up a smile, but found out I still couldn’t. I hope that one day, that nurse will find some peace for the choices she made on behalf of her daughter.

So off I hopped back to the ward. I wasn’t expecting to stay overnight and I wasn’t prepared for PJ’s so I got dressed instead. I could see the lady opposite me was in a much fitter state and so we began chatting. Turns out her sister is also called Melissa. She had just had a lovely trip to Cornwall visiting all the gardens. We shared photos and stories and talked about community living. I hope that we can remain friends.

Later on, the hospital DJ came to see us and her name was also Melissa! I got very excited choosing my playlist and settled down to a good couple of hours jigging to some good tunes.

And then the late shift team came along. Another nurse came to check my blood pressure and told me her best friend was called Melissa. And here I was thinking my name was relatively uncommon!

Of course, day eventually turned to night and with it comes the dark. Along with the dark came the blackest of thoughts. All the ‘What ifs’ and the ‘Why me’s’.

Lesson number three. Don’t allow them to become part of you and takeover. Whenever a thought like that popped into my head, I would acknowledge it but then think of something I was grateful for. It wasn’t always easy but then focusing on the latter felt far more harmful and destructive. I knew that \I just could not afford to allow those thoughts destroy my inner peace.

I don’t know what helped me through that night, but some unknown force did and I am eternally grateful. I didn't sleep but I felt ok.

The next day after a catalyst of ministerial errors I finally get discharged. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically and I was just happy to get home. I had a good night sleep that night.

Today I was seen by two top surgeons specializing in ENT (ear nose and throat) and Neurology. Both my parents came with me and for that I am so grateful because what they had to say to me was hard hitting. Reading between the lines, Mistakes were made, big ones. He told me that had it been him taking on my case he would have been very cautious on taking on the risks, I referred him to my original scans asking if he was able to see any abnormalities from them. His silence spoke volumes. It took him a long time before he could look at me again and then his colleague came in where they discussed very long and in depth the kind of steps they could take to rectify the stuff up their other colleague made. They used big words, scary words, they consulted and discussed options in front of me and my parents.

Basically, as it stands, there is no other choice, than to go into an extremely sensitive area that is already scarred and is not the average ear that one would expect from an average healthy born adult and attempt to fix the damage that had been done last Thursday. Time is of the essence. I believe this is the right move to make for me, the alternative is that I will eventually succumb to muscle wastage in my face, I will not be able to blink and my smile will be a memory.

Lesson number four. Learn to keep moving forward. Whatever has been done, or said, rightly or wrongly, I have just got to take that step forward in the best most constructive way possible, otherwise it will slowly eat away and I will suffer more for it.

Lesson number five. I realise not everyone will agree and that’s ok, but for me, forgiveness is key. I have to forgive myself for my choices first and foremost. I am still on that journey.

It may be a long one and I will be a different person arriving the other end, but I am surrounded with so much love and support. I am scared, but that’s ok. I can also see this as an adventure. Adventures aren’t meant to be easy. They are soul searching, sometimes I am grappling in the dark, sometimes I am lifted so much in sheer unconditional love and sometimes I am humbled by the actions and words of kind strangers. But most of all I will try and embrace every moment, every challenge and treat this experience as one big lesson to a much grander more beautiful evolving picture.

There will be time to reflect. I cannot afford to add to the mess with blame. Healing is all I need right now and healing I will strive for until I am well again.