We can rebuild her. We have the technology. :: 2

A Second Date with the OR

Just as Dave showed up with my GTL, I was told it was no more liquids or food time. Dr Levy gave me the option of surgery that evening or wait until Monday. There was no way in hell I wanted to wait until Monday, I wanted this over with so I could start pushing myself in PT. Little did I know I'd be stuck in the hospital until Tuesday regardless...

I had already survived one surgery, but the thought of the second one was scaring me still. Mike & Kim came up to be with us a few hours beforehand. I was so grateful to not only have Dave by my side, but to also have two of my biggest supporters there to help put me at ease. I knew everything would be okay, but it really helped to have three people I love to death there with me.

It was time for surgery. The pre-op room was more entertaining this time around. The anesthesiologist wanted to know what music I wanted playing as I went under and I just drew a blank. I remember Dr Levy coming in to see me and he was eating sour patch jelly beans. I was jealous. I remember being wheeled into the operating room and being just a little weirded out by it. I remember hearing Rocket Man...    

Stronger. Better. Faster.

Waking up in pain is never a good sign and this might have been a new level of it for me. I guess that happens when you are laying on the 8+ inch spine incision. It was a friendly reminder that I never want to have spine surgery again! Every bump the bed went over on the way back to my room made me want to scream. That night made the night after my first surgery seem like a cakewalk. 

The Bionic Back. Insane.

The next several days were a blur and seemed to drag on. I still hated the hospital food and barely had the ability to stomach any of it. I still hated having to go for X-rays and CT scans (mostly because those taking me didn't know how to do a proper bed-to-gurney transfer), but I had some badass hardware in my back now. I was still going stir-crazy. I just wanted to make a break for it... only I wasn't fast or sneaky enough yet.

PT was going quite well, even the day after the second surgery. I was in pain from the operation, but I was pretty much able to pick right back up where I left off with walking. Transferring from the bed to the wheelchair, walker or bedside commode was getting easier every day. I'll admit, it still was slow and painful, but I was doing it on my own. It was also a little weird because it felt like my back weighted an extra 20 pounds or so. It was difficult for me to stand with the walker and brush my teeth because my knees and hips were weak. I felt like such a failure at times because I needed someone there with me when I was brushing my teeth so I didn't collapse. How do you even begin to adjust to things like that? Life suddenly became a game of adapting...

Two incisions and a drain spot. Lovely.

The last few days at the hospital were quite frustrating. I was very thankful for everyone that helped me get through it because it was not easy. The combination of lots of pain killers and iron pills made my body hate me more than it already did. Not knowing when I was leaving for Health South was also complicating things. Eventually everything worked itself out on all levels. 

Finally, after days of waiting and not knowing, my ride to Health South was here. For the first time since arriving at the hospital, I had an awesome bed to gurney transfer too (why did it finally happen on the last day?!)! After 11 days and two surgeries in Fresno, I was heading to Bakersfield for my next adventure...

** Disclaimer: My heart and head weren't really in this post. The post following this one will explain a bit of the why they weren't into it. I wanted to share a bit about the second half of my hospital stay, but I am probably going to be thinking of different ways to share the progress on this blog when I start the next part of the adventure (acute therapy at Health South).

We can rebuild her. We have the technology. :: 1

Waiting

I felt like I was caught in a whirlwind laying on the gurney in the trauma room. There was so much going on around me and it almost felt like I wasn't there. I honestly don't remember much of the initial few hours I was in so much pain. I remember being annoyed because none of the doctors would tell me why they were only focusing on my back and not the pain in my legs/feet. I remember them somehow getting the rest of my clothes off aside from the sports bra. I remember how painful it was having the sheet draped over my feet and specifically asking them to pull it off my feet. I remember waiting for the X-ray. I remember them transferring me to the table for the X-ray and how much it fucking hurt. I didn't think it was possible to be in more pain. I was wrong.

I remember being put in another trauma room with a kid that wasn't doing so good. Trust me, definitely not doing good. I remember finally seeing Dave at some point. I remember seeing the X-ray image. I will never forget that image. I was broken. That's when it hit me. That's when I knew nothing was going to be the same again.

Not pretty. An L1 burst fracture.

The Hallway

There is nothing quite as awesome as being put in the hallway to wait... and wait... and wait. I remember the nurses rotating between morphine and some other liquid painkiller in the IV. I remember Dave handling the "letting everyone know what was going on" aspect of things because I was in no shape for it mentally. Honestly, I don't think either of us were mentally prepared for it or anything that was to come. I remember emailing back and forth with Kim about the situation and being scared. I remember getting a text from Mike joking about "no more cartoons for you" and it made me smile and giggle a little (inside joke from earlier in the week). Yes, I actually smiled for what seemed like the first time since before the fall. I don't remember much of what else happened in the hall and maybe it's for the best. I'll let Dave enjoy those memories of crazy patients pissing on themselves that I clearly forgot for a reason. 

I somehow managed to get a little sleep in the hallway. How that happened, I don't know. As we waited and waited until surgery, I was happy to have a few visitors. Sandy, Jenn, and Steve made several hour drive to spend some time with me before surgery; it meant the world to me. As shitty as I felt, it really helped to see them. I was on a lot of drugs and scared to death about surgery, but they helped make the ordeal easier to handle. I know they helped put Dave at ease too... or they at least gave him a distraction from what was going on.

The time had finally arrived after several delays, they were taking me to the pre-op room. I was scared to be going to surgery, but so happy to be getting out of the hallway. I remember Dave was in there. I remember a needle being put in my IV. That's all I remember...

We Can Rebuild Her. We Have The Technology.

I remember waking up in the post-op room. My back was in pain, but the shooting pains in my legs and feet were gone. I remember being taken to the elevator and Dave, Jenn & Steve, and Mike & Kim being there. I was still in a daze and didn't say much, but was so grateful to see all of them. I was surrounded by people I love and really had no way of showing my appreciation for all of them being there.

That night marked the first of many, many challenging nights. Sleeping was difficult. Between the pain in my back and left side (where the incision was), the annoying circulation things on my calves, and the bed movements, I didn't know if I was going to get any sleep. On top of that, needing help to turn on my right side was tough for me. Nothing was comfortable. I remember the nurse being really helpful and supportive, but it was still a long night. 

The next day was a huge smack in the face and a preview of the long road ahead for me. It started off well - Dave was there by my side, the neurosurgeon stopped in and said everything looked good from their end, the flowers that Mike & Kim brought were beautiful. I was having a really hard time being stuck in bed all the time, but I didn't really have any other option. It all really hit when PT paid me a visit. It all started with the log roll to get out of bed. My legs didn't want to cooperate and it was hard to push myself up because of the back pain. Standing up from bed wasn't easy, but I did it with some help. Then came the blow - trying to walk. I could barely move my legs. I managed two or three baby steps and my left foot was uncooperative. It was like I was hit by a semi. I felt like I hit rock bottom at that point. How does someone who runs up and down mountain passes in the Sierra all the time deal with barely managing to move her legs?! Not well. Not well at all. I knew it would get better, but at the time it felt so hopeless. I was really grateful Dave was there for encouragement and a shoulder to cry on. After I told Kim what happened, she told me to "celebrate that you can stand". It was true. Things could have been a lot worse. To this day, that has stuck with me. After what happened, I will always celebrate that I can stand. 

It was rough over the next few days. Dave and I were going stir-crazy. He was going back and forth between the hospital and the hotel and I was just, well, spending my days in room 904B. I still don't know how he did it. He was always there being supportive, spending hours upon hours at my bedside. When I was struggling with anything from PT to dealing the pain to, well, anything, he was always there. He is amazing.

PT was improving day by day. I went from barely taking two steps, to taking 10 steps in the hall, to walking almost all the way down the hall. As someone who hiked 10-15 miles/day with significant elevation gain every weekend, I never thought walking down a hallway would be so exhausting. I wanted to keep pushing myself though, to go a little farther every PT session. It was frustrating at times, but I could see the progress every day. I was transferring to/from the bed more on my own, sitting up more and almost standing up on my own. I was still struggling with not being able to get my legs back up onto the bed and not being able to pull my feet up when laying in bed, but I was still seeing progress.

The outpouring of support and love from friends since the accident really helped me survive being stuck in the hospital. Dave and I were overwhelmed by all of it and couldn't thank everyone enough. Calls, visits, messages. So much love and support. I remember getting a phone call from my arm-twisting buddy, Stacey, which totally made my day. She always finds a way to make me giggle. Our hiking buddy, Natacha, and Jenn & Al from work came to visit me and keep us company for a few hours. The support from Mike & Kim was beyond amazing; they are like family. Mike liked to send me words of encouragement from time to time. He's also quite the jokester too because I found out from Kim that he asked the surgeon to fix my attitude. I have yet to pay him back for that comment - there will be lots of post-it notes and paper airplanes. Kim was always texting me to see how I was doing, checking on my progress, sending words of encouragement, etc. She was great at making me laugh when I needed it and just being there when I needed to 'chat'. Mike and Kim are just amazing, there is no other way to put it. 

Five days after the accident, I was using the walker in the hallway during PT and my neurosurgeon walked by us and watched for a bit. He said he was impressed with how much I was walking so quickly after surgery. He must have seen something or realized just how active of a person I was, because later that morning I found out that he wanted to do a second procedure. That afternoon, we were still waiting to hear what the second operation was and when it would be. Nobody seemed to have answers for us, so all we could do was wait... and be frustrated. That night I didn't sleep well. The thought of a second surgery, and thinking I might have to start recovery all over again, scared me.

The next morning, the news came. I found out I was having surgery that evening.

To be continued...