Only six more days! Are we panicking yet?

Countdown commenced

Yesterday, I was officially one week away from surgery. I cannot believe that I am doing this. I'm to the point lately where it's a 50/50 shot that I could get emotional when asked about it. At dinner with Matt last night, I started to ask him if he would stay the night at my parents' house with me the night before since I have to be at the hospital super early and then had to stop because I felt tears coming.

The worst part is when people ask you about it or how you're doing, you answer and then they stare at you nodding their heads with a puppy dog look plastered across their faces waiting for you to say something else about how awful the ordeal is. I get it. They're being kind and concerned. But the moment I see that look, I get freaked out. I don't know what to say. And then the tears start to well up.

They don't start in the eyes, either. That's a common misconception. Real, emotion starts in the stomach. "Gut wrenching" is the term. That's where I start fighting it. I feel all this shakiness there and it creeps up quickly to my throat (hello, frog) and then my head starts to feel a little light and my eyes start to water. I try to think about something else--people naked sometimes works, as it can shock me out of the emotion. Or I bite a small piece on the inside of my lip, where no one can tell what I'm doing and it really hurts because its such a tiny bit. Or I dig my fingernails into my palms. If I can focus on that, I'll be ok.

At the same time, I want people to ask me about it and talk to me. Ignoring it is the worst. I guess its best to just ask me about it matter-of-factly. Don't try to elicit emotion from me. If I do get emotional of my own accord, that's fine. Hey, as I said, it's a 50/50 shot these days.

More preparations

I took two more steps yesterday. First, I went to get my medical clearance from Dr. Nguyen. He's my doctor of internal medicine. While Dr. Hostin will be taking care of my spine, body movements, etc., Dr. Nguyen will be making sure I'm doing ok internally with my major organs and other body systems.

We started off with an EKG to test my heart strength at rest. I laid on a table topless but with an open paper robe on while the nurse stuck multiple electrodes to my chest and arms. I was nervous because they told me not to use lotion that day as it may make the electrodes slip, and of course I forgot and used lotion that morning all over me. But it all worked out.

Next, Dr. Nguyen came in and talked to me about all my medical history. He was pissed about the poor care my mom received after her surgery. For those of you who don't know, my mom had the surgery around eight years ago. Her surgeon moved to California a week later, leaving her to fend for herself.

He said I'm receiving some of the best care in the country. Apparently, and keep in mind that Dr. Nguyen does not work for my surgeon, people come in from all around the nation to have Dr. Hostin and his partner Dr. Shelokov do their back surgeries, and I have them in my backyard. Hey, it impressed me.

Dr. Nguyen went over details about what may happen to my body after surgery. I may not have a period for a few months as my body will be shocked from the surgery. I will probably swell up a lot in the days after surgery since they will be pumping me full of fluids. He said I may look pregnant. Trust me, that's not an appealing thing to me. So the first one to two weeks, I may gain weight from fluids and then will start to lose it--a lot. Not a good thing, he said. I'll lose most of my muscle and a lot of fat because I won't want to eat. I'll be too sick. I know this should bother me, but the thought of being really skinny made me smile just a little bit. (Save your judgements!)

He may give me insulin to control my metabolism and electrolytes to help balance my body's chemistry. Minor conditions I may have include: bladder infection, diarrhea, nausea, distension (that's the looking swollen thing) and bloating, rashes and possibly even pneumonia. When he got to the serious conditions, he talked really slowly, so I could write them all down. The serious complications could involve blood clots (which is why I had to stop birth control last week and can't start it again for three months as birth control can cause blood clots, as can surgery, so we don't want two things working against us), severe bleeding (which may make my anemia worse), low blood count, infection (this would be AWFUL because if my back gets infected, they'll have to do another surgery to clean me out), ileus, abnormal heart rhythm, heart attack, stroke, kidney failure, liver failure, heart failure, a bad allergic reaction to a drug, a reaction to a blood transfusion, seizures or even death.

Don't fret. Most of the serious ones are rare, and he doesn't think any of them will be a problem for me since I'm young and healthy. He said whenever he thinks those might be a problem, he cancels the surgery. It pisses people off, but it may save their lives.

He told me to take vitamin c and iron until my surgery to fight my anemia and told me he'd see me at the hospital next week. One good note, I didn't have to pay anything while there.

MRI adventures

I then drove to the hospital for an MRI. An MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) will show a more detailed picture of my back than just an x-ray. The doctors will be able to see all the muscles and tissues and other things in there, so they'll be better able to plan my surgery.

I had to pay $1,379.47 up front, and they gave me a wristband to wear. A lady (I'm not sure if she was a nurse, doctor or tech) took me to another area and then a little closet-like room with a curtain for a door. I had to take off all of my jewelry and all my clothes, except for my panties and socks. I put on two paper gowns, one open to the front and one open to the back, and a pair of paper socks (more like hair nets for your feet).

She then took me to the MRI room. She kept paying me compliments and being super sweet, as was the guy doctor/tech who was running the show when we got in there. I knew they were trying to help me relax, but I still liked it. I put in ear plugs and laid down on a table in front of the machine. The put pads around my head, sides and under my legs. I was given a panic button to hold, in case I needed assistance. Then, the best part, they draped a very warm blanket over me and tucked me in on all sides. They said to try to go to sleep, don't move and relax. I thought, "yeah, right."

You should see this machine. I'll include a pic from the web of what one looks like. They push you into it's circular hole and you are surrounded on all sides by it with very little space between you and it. I can see why people panic. It was kind of like going into a spaceship or a birth canal, I would think. Maybe a robotic birth canal? I digress...

They push me up and down this tube for the next 45 minutes while all these loud sounds spin all around me. I kept my eyes closed to try to forget about it. Thankfully, I was sleep deprived from work, so I eventually did fall asleep. Every so often, the noises would stop and the guy's voice would come in very faint in the background and ask if I was ok. Eventually, it was over. They pulled me out, I dressed and off I went.

All and all, not too bad. Next step will be tomorrow when I start using a special cleanser everyday to help reduce infection and bacteria.