What's your pain number?

Howdy howdy howdy!!

Well I'll begin where I left off...


Early morning of surgery.

-Can't sleep. I'll be in a drug induced sleep soon enough. I'll rest then. In the meantime, I have to be quiet so JM can.

So what do I do to kill time until then?
-Worry.
-Thank God. That things are being handled so well and that so many are here to be supportive.
-Watch my youngest while he sleeps and enjoy the sound of his snores.
-Pray.
-Pray for my family. For each of them to know that I am fine and that everything is in good hands.
-Pray that I convince myself that this is indeed true before I come undone in front of them.

What else can I do?

Time comes to get going all too soon. Jm is quiet and funny. I know he is exhausted. Kait is awake and I hug her almost too hard. Sheesh... keep it together woman. I sneak into Zach's room and climb up to him. He meets me at the top of his ladder. Tearful "I love yous" and reassurances that all will be fine. I make him promise to go easy on his sister today and I promise that I will talk with him this afternoon or as soon as I am able, but he will hear from me later today. He has been so strong until now. I sneak back to Jake's room and snuggle him one more time. My angel monkey. So big and yet still so little.

I have to be OK for all of them. This is what needs to happen. This will fix so much of the pain. This will make me stronger. So I can be here for them.

I sit quietly in the truck. Staring out into the darkness and up at the night sky. So many stars. I hear JM's words and I know that he is being supportive but I feel the need for quiet. I feel so small. I love this feeling when I look at where I live and feel only the tiniest part of it. It reminds me that it is indeed real. To hear the animals and creatures in the shadows and smell the moisture on the air the only light is what is found in the world and of course the occasional headlights. These are the things that comfort me most right now. Knowing that all of this is waiting. Knowing that the world is waiting.

When we arrive at the hospital things are as they always are. Quiet and busy. Have you ever noticed that? All urban hospitals are this way I believe. Quiet, yet everything seems to be humming and alive with movement. No Matter what the circumstances are, they are always the same. The bad filter on the waiting room aquarium makes a horrible racket. I want to go and fix it. There are only a handful of us waiting this morning. With our immediate loved one or significant other. Only one cannot hide why he is there. Some type of arm or hand injury. I need to go to the restroom. The closest one is in labor and delivery across the hall. One of my favorite places in the world. A place of hope and renewal. I take care of business and then decide to steal a peek in on the nursery.

There is only one infant in there. I have no idea if the tiny bundle is male or female. I don't care. It is nothing less than a gift. A beautiful, perfect, sleeping miracle. I say a small prayer for it, it's new family, all the other newcomers on their way and their families, the people recovering, grieving, worrying, hoping, healing, working, helping today. On this day (and everyday), be open to the Force that guides, consoles, cares, focuses all of us. We are not alone and that every moment is precious.

On a side note... I've always thought prayers should be articulated in some lofty and rhythmic way. Like poetry. Everyone knows that one person who will pray out loud for a group, at a gathering or has the best way to sum things up at a family function or even just says "Grace" at dinner really well. That's not me. It's aggravating to say the least. I say it plainly, honestly. I wanted to be that person that was just able to open my mouth and say things in a way that sounded like the type of stuff that God would listen to and could possibly evoke a response similar to that of Charlton Heston as Moses in the Ten Commandments. Whatever. Regardless of your religion and without getting off topic, prayer works. So if you are like me and find yourself at a loss for something profound and meaningful to say, remember this... He knows your heart better than you do and understands without explanation. So while my religious philosophies and beliefs may not be exact or like anyone elses, I know that some one is listening and gets me. In all my frustration to get things right and solemn and grown-up, Someone answers my prayers.

Anyway, in tears I return to the waiting room. JM is there and asks, "What?". I tell him that "I peeked at the babies". He smiles and says, "Without me?" We laugh. Damn it all, I love this man. He gets it. He always knows. I say another quick prayer of appreciation and we are asked to attend to our final check in paperwork. Blah blah blah... sign here, initial this, in triplicate. "Thank you for choosing our hospital and good luck." They give me my ID bracelet and ask that I verify all info is correct. It is, I think. My nerves are taking over so I have JM double check for me. He looks so tired and I wish for just a moment that he didn't have to be here, alone. I'm suddenly no longer nervous. I'm scared for him to be alone. I wish someone was here to be strong for him. He wouldn't dream of telling me, but I can see his worry now. I can hear it in his voice. So I do what I do. I laugh. We make jokes. I tell him as much as I can that I love him and that things will be OK. I will be OK. I try very hard to be convincing. For both our sakes.

As usual common sense, tells me I will be fine. Better than fine. This is the road that will put me back to where I need to be. Mobile and pain free. They call all of us in the waiting room almost as a group. I am asked to step to the side as I am actually having surgery and the others are only having 'procedures'. I'm not sure if I feel special or terrified. LOL In any case I am comforted that so far they are not asking JM to wait somewhere. I'm not ready to be wheeled anywhere on my own yet. They nurse escorts us to a hall and asks us to wait while she shows the others where they will be taking care of their needs. JM and I look at each other and make jokes. She returns and leads us to the pre-op room.

It's about as big a large walk in closet. Barely holds the gurney, a table, a chair and the three of us. We all squeeze in, adjusting the furniture as we go so that we may all fit. I see my new outfit laid on the foot of the gurney for me to change into. While this is not my first surgery, it is certainly the one that I have been most frightened of. I try to remember to keep my breathing even. I don't want to panic. JM is cracking jokes the whole time to keep me (and the nurses) laughing. People keep poking their heads in and asking questions and introducing themselves. "Yes, I understand what we are doing today, I can indeed tell you step by step what is going to happen today, I have all the appropriate paperwork on file and no, I do not have any extra questions for you".

JM gets to help change into my surgical gown, hairnet, stockings and booties. He does the stripper music in the bathroom while I'm trying to change and acts like he's going to get naked too. I can't stop laughing. Thank you again for putting this dork in my life. I can't imagine what the nurse is hearing or thinking for that matter. At this point I don't care. I need his humor right now. We come back into the room and the nurse hooks up a hose ( like those from and old fashioned hairdryer that connects over your hairdo via what looks like a shower cap) to my gown and it starts blowing warm air in. Weird, but very comfy. So there I am in bed with this thing blowing warm air into my gown, feeling more exposed than scared. There are now several people in the room. Well in the doorway anyway. Anesthesia, IOM, and another member of the surgical team. All asking the same questions. " Yes I understand and no I don't have any other questions."

Finally Dr. R shows up. Introductions for him and JM. A brief Q&A between the two and lots of reassurances. What has been two and a half hours has passed since our arrival and now a woman comes in and says that JM has to wait. "I need a couple more minutes with him." "Sorry it's now or never." We share a quick kiss and hug, then he's gone.

I can't help it anymore, I'm crying.

I don't want this. I don't want to be alone with these people. I don't want Dr. R cutting into me. I can't breathe. I have to calm down. I can't fall apart in front to them. All of my insecurities about this operation are standing on top of my chest like one huge old bull elephant. I go to wipe my tears away and I can smell JM on my hands. It helps but I cry harder. Then they all start talking around me in urgent tones about how some drip should have been started thirty minutes ago and that the doctor should have ordered it. I was starting to calm down. Then someone behind me makes the decision to start the drip (antibiotics, I think.) and urges everyone else to shut up and get their game faces on. Well thank God you showed up, honey because I was really starting to doubt things. Sheesh!

I get wheeled into the operating suite. Which feels like it is located in the back of a catacomb somewhere in the bowels of the hospital. It's not as stark and clinical as some others I have been in, but it is definitely all business. Lights, table, machines and monitors, portable x-ray and CT scanner. All the whistles and bells. They transfer me to the operating table and I look around some more. I see the woman that will be monitoring the operation, the anesthesiologist, the surgical nurses and assistants, the friendly older nurse that held my hand when JM had to wait behind, and then...

I woke up.

Not like in a horror movie during the operation or anything. I was in the recovery ward. I couldn't really focus or see much of anything. Lights, colors, shapes mostly. I couldn't really move and I was a bit chilly. I could hear other people around me and machines moving. So I called out and waved my hand, "Hello?". A woman came to my side almost immediately and started talking to me and asking questions. The surgery was over and it had gone very well. I was OK. I was frustrated that I couldn't see straight enough to make out anything more than her basic shape and hair color, but I was OK. She urged me to rest and assured me that I was in good hands. I asked if I could see JM and again she said that things were fine that I would see him soon enough.

::sigh::

He needed to know that I was OK. I know they were going to update him on my progress and if something happened, but he needed to hear it from me. I needed him to hear it from me. And that was it, it was over and within forty minutes of waking up I was in my own room. Meeting the first of the three nurses that would care for me during my brief stay.

And JM, my love, my friend.

He was there. He knew I was OK. He held my hand and smiled his smile and I really was OK. And even after having had my four hour nap via some really great drugs, I was finally ready to sleep. (Not that I would get to while I was at the hospital.) Later that day I was visited by my earth bound angels, Miss Mouse, G, my Tom and my beasties. Tom was kind enough to grab the kids and bring them to the hospital to see me. Everyone was happy, joking and smiling, but visibly concerned. The kids were great and got in on the jokes almost immediately. Kait gets props for calling me her "PEZ dispenser". Zach (AKA Rooster Boy) created some memorable moments with the rubber gloves. Jake was scared, but you can only explain so much to a toddler. He did finally, quietly and very carefully give me a hug before they left. I have the best family.

Now that that is finished. I started this post almost three weeks ago. Right after I had returned home from this mess. So it's a bit out of order. I may have included too much information or perhaps not enough. Again I post this for me as a reminder. Things are only getting better. I am doing so much better than I had anticipated or hoped. Good reports from the doc. FINALLY got my bone stim today. So far so good. Almost weened off the meds. Although I'll be nervous when they run out as I'm not sure how my body will process without them. I'm still not as mobile as I'd like. Mostly due to cabin fever, the fact that I still can't drive myself anywhere and the fact that we live so far away from everything. My momma came and stayed with us for a weekend to help out. As usual, it was not a long enough visit.

JM is doing everything he can to keep me entertained and off my feet so that I can heal. He really is a blessing. He gets up everyday, works out in virtual silence, showers, gets ready for work, eats, makes his lunch, wakes up the baby, gets him ready to go, feeds him and then gets the baby to daycare and himself to work. Gets off work, picks up the baby, runs errands/ gets groceries, comes home, fixes dinner (although I have been helping or cooking with help from the kids more), hangs out with the kids or relaxes, bathes the baby, gets him into bed, helps me do what I need to do, gets me into bed and then attends to his stuffs, before getting into bed himself. He stays positive and supportive and has been putting up with an assload of negativity from outside sources. Everyday. Without fail. It has been hard to let him take charge of so much. I am picking up my usual duties more everyday, but he still is there with a smile. I'll be so happy when I can get back to our regular routine and I can get back to work. If nothing else just to end the ugliness that has been in the shadows since this started.

That is a post for another day however.

For now I end this knowing that things could always be worse, but for me no matter what...

I am blessed.