Surgery Day

Surgery day is a little foggy for me, partially because they gave me drugs to help me forget the surgery.  My doctor had told me a few times that I would be the first surgery of the day and that I needed to arrive at 6:00 a.m.  He said the hospital would call me to confirm my surgery time and arrival time, but that he would tell them I needed to be first.  I don't remember if the hospital called to tell me when to come or not, but I wanted so badly to be first (you really don't want a tired doctor operating on your brain, plus you can't eat or drink after midnight the night before) that we decided to show up at 6:00 a.m. 

The night before surgery I was concerned about what life would be like with my boys after my surgery.  I rocked them and sang to them worried I wouldn't be able to do that afterwards.  Imminent brain surgery was a powerful reminder of what I valued most in life.  The morning of my surgery our dear neighbor and friend came over to stay with the boys until they woke up.  I cannot remember all the details of who cared for my boys during my week at the hospital, but my mom was in town and neighbors and friends helped too when my husband was at the hospital with me. 

We arrived at the hospital and checked in, but they said we weren't supposed to be there.  If I remember correctly there was a ton of uncertainty about when my surgery would start, and eventually my surgeon found us in the MRI waiting room and assured me that I would be having surgery that day, but I remember feeling worried that I would get pushed off.  One of the hardest things about having surgery when you are the mom is that there is so much planning that goes into ensuring things will run smoothly when you are incapable of being on your feet.  I had worked so hard to make plans to cover all that I typically do, but I was incredibly scared that my surgery was not a priority for my doctors and that I would be pushed off to a more convenient time if they didn't decide to treat me. 

I believe around 7:00 a.m. I was able to go get another MRI that they would use during surgery.   We hung out in the MRI waiting room because it was less crowded and chaotic than the general surgery waiting room.  The woman at the MRI check-in desk was very nice and compassionate when we explained our frustration that it seemed no one knew I needed to be checked in for surgery that day.  My surgeon did find us and apologized for the confusion and delay, and then we waited.  And waited.  And my husband went to eat while I waited. 

Around 10 or 11 a.m. I got called back to the surgery prep area.  I changed to a hospital gown and socks.  They finally figured out my IV and I survived even though I hadn't been able to drink water for nearly 12 hours.  Some residents visited us, and I didn't trust them.  The neurologist who would be monitoring my speech visited us.  (A month or two after surgery I saw him in the halls and recognized him, but it took me a minute to place him.  Then I excitedly stopped him and asked, "were you the neurologist on my surgery!?!?" He acted like he remembered, though I'm not sure he did.  Personally, I was thrilled that something was coming back to me and my brain was still working.) 

And then around 2 p.m. they sent my husband to the waiting room and I was whisked down the hall.  I have a flash of memory that I was in the operating room and the doctor was asking me questions.  I was answering them until I couldn't answer anymore--at some point I was unable to speak.  I don't remember anything after that until I woke up in the ICU.  It turns out I had a seizure during the surgery and couldn't talk, so they started me on Vimpat, an anti-convulsant that thankfully does not cause the same effects as Keppra on my body.  Surgery was complete at about 7:00 p.m.

I think I have a vague memory of my mom, my husband, and my surgeon being there at some point while I was in the ICU, maybe around 9:00 p.m.  And then I remember waking up at 1:00 a.m. and wanting to take a walk with the nurses.  And then I woke up at 5:00 a.m. and wanted to take another walk with the nurses.  If they were checking my vital signs every hour, I don't remember it.  At about 10:00 a.m. I think they took me to get another MRI.  After that MRI they took me to the neuro ward instead of the ICU.  That surprised me because I thought I would stay in the ICU for 24 hours.  I was happy to be out of the ICU even though I hardly remember it.  Slowly, in the neuro ward I started to remember more things.  After four days I was able to come home.