This morning the doorbell rang and Kyle got out of bed to answer it. From bed, I hear a small voice say "Here, this is because Ms. April had surgery." If I were a fly on the wall, I would have seen Kyle tear up due to what she gave him...a VERY full box of Lamar's donuts; something I can't allow in the house because we would all end up with a stomach ache due to overconsumption. Thank you McMillin family. These acts of kindness, be it a tasty batch of Buffey Hauptmann's chicken and noodles or my parents taking the kids to go see Santa while the home health nurse taught us how to administer my antibiotics are so tremendously appreciated.
Back to the story. So Kyle and I thought I would get admitted and simply receive fluids and antibiotics and leave. This plan began to swerve when the nurse banned me from food and drink in case of surgery. Surgery on what? Why? I am only 6 months out out of my last surgery on my noggin'.
Monday morning Dr. Basta and his nurses (he never travels without at least one attractive nurse practitioner sometimes it is 4) lay it out for me. He needs to put me in the OR so he can clean the wound and get a sample of the CSF Cerebral Spinal Fluid to see if it is infected. If it is infected the entire shunt HAS to come out. To deal with my high pressure (the original condition) they could stick a drain in my spine and I spent 2 weeks in ICU. BAM!!! Wait...what happened to our original plan of fluids/antibiotics and home by How I Met your Mother? For heaven's sake it is a scratch. I wanted to know more about the this spinal drain because I had read about this treatment when I was reading about the VP drain. All I knew is that I DID NOT want it. After a blurred conversation everyone settled on if the shunt was infected he would pull it, but we would deal with the high pressure with less invasive treatments like spinal taps and possible medication. We agreed and he said they would come get me this afternoon and then like any superhero his nurses and him flew out of the room.
Kyle looked at me and said "Weeell ok then..." and I exhaled. Kyle pretty much had to recount the whole conversation and tell me that I could NOT just walk out of the hospital and go straight to a bar and start downing gin and tonics. Since this was a surgery that could go two directions and the direction would be chosen based on the labs of the CSF, I would not be conscience to know the direction we were headed. So it was very important Kyle know I did not want a spinal drain (even though Mom and Kyle were not updated throughout the surgery like promised).
Giving myself until "afternoon" to wrap my infected brain around this, I felt my body's need to sleep and I drifted off only to be wakened by a peppy nurse's aid. In his bright red shirt, he announced "I am here to take you down pre-op." Kyle mumbles "Oh shit" and I insist that I was suppose to go in the afternoon, not at 10am. When he nicely said, "they told me to get you now" I launched into an intense and irractic panic attack...turning red, breathing hard, crying hysterically, sweating. Now I do have a diagnosed Panic Disorder that I will share about later, but this poor nurse's aid must have thought I had escaped from the psychiatric facility down the road. He went to get my nurse and my nurse went to go get one of Basta's gorgeous NPs to calm me down. And I will tell you what, she did! Maybe it was her enchanting beauty, or she had a skill to ask questions. She started belting out: Do you have questions? What are fears? You know we can control your pain? I answered all these and felt my nerves calm. I hadn't had this reaction before the first surgeries, but the pretty NP and I agreed that I was scared because I didn't have control of the situation because the surgery could go two ways. By the time the now timid nurse's aid could take me down to pre-op, I was at peace with the situation and I had remembered something I neglected this time...that God would be with me.
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