Hello and welcome back! Fear....as defined in the Merriam Webster dictionary, fear is an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger accompanied by increased autonomic activity.
I started having surgeries when I was about 2. It's not like as we get older our fear goes away, but I think the way in which we express it becomes different. As a child, I felt like I was able to express my fears more freely, and usually did that through crying mostly. I can vividly remember a lot of my departures from my parents as the surgical teams wheeled me away from them, always at a certain point before entering the OR. They were only allowed to go so far with me. The bed I was being wheeled in would stop, and I would hug my parents, listen to them tell me to be brave, and tell me it would all be over soon. I know they were scared too, but they never showed it. As a parent, I can now imagine the fear and anxiety they must have felt themselves. Then I would be wheeled away from them with people I didn't know. Usually the only person I knew in the room would be my surgeon, and that was usually a brief hello before they put me under. Operating rooms are cold, bright, sometimes loud if the surgeon wants music, always bustling with activity, and everyone has a mask and big gown on, so you can't really see their faces. It's a lot to take in, especially as a child. Then, you also know that some stranger is going to put a mask over your face that tastes and smells yucky, and the next thing you know you wake up disoriented and groggy from the anesthesia. I was usually in tremendous pain from various orthopedic procedures, sometimes on both legs. Most often, everyone was very kind and tried to comfort me, but it was still so scary.
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| It's been a long journey |
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| Surgery in 2000, bone from my hip fused into my ankle, months of recovery |
My most recent procedure of the stem cell treatment reminded me of the times when I would have to say goodbye to my parents. My husband was not allowed to go in while I had the procedure done. Honestly not sure he would have liked being in there anyway, but I was scared. I had some idea what I was in for, but at the same time not really sure of what it would feel like. I just knew that I would be awake during the procedure.
The team was very kind and explained everything very thoroughly (for more detail on the actual procedure, please refer to my blog titled "An Unexpected Opportunity"). The procedure was done in a few different steps, and each one was carefully explained to me. We also chatted, and tried to take my mind off of what was happening. Even though I was surrounded by people, I felt so alone and honestly I was terrified. I didn't cry, but I REALLY wanted to. I wanted to scream. I have been poked and prodded my whole life, and I think each time it happens it just triggers a response of anger in me. Yes, I did choose to have the stem cell procedure done. I chose it because I was desperate. I am desperate to keep walking, and to not feel my body getting weaker by the day. Desperate times, call for desperate measures, and taking risks. I made it through the procedure just fine. By the time Jamie got into the room, I just wanted to get dressed and get out as quickly as I could. I had some time in between when the fat was extracted, and separated into the stem cells that would be infused back into me (my very brief, non medical explanation).
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| Stem cell day! |
As soon as we got out to the car, I just started sobbing. All that fear that I had bottled up for the past hour just came pouring out. I couldn't hold it in. It had to come out. I don't know what it is. I think it's a little bit that I am an adult and I feel like I shouldn't cry, but I mostly think that it's an expectation I put on myself to tough it out. They know I'm a seasoned veteran so to speak. I feel like I need to prove to the doctors and nurses that they can't break me. That I've been through hell and back, and I am strong enough to handle whatever they throw my way. I don't want them to feel that they have the power to make me cry, and that I will win the battle. I know this sounds silly, and seems even sillier as I type it out, but it's honest. I know they aren't trying to break me, it's just something inside of me that I deal with.
We are all faced with fears...often. Some big, some smaller. Some fears are because of choices we make, but some are uninvited. I also think that out of fear, big trust can be born. In my case, not so much trusting in the doctors as much as I mean, trusting in God. Trust that even though things may be painful and scary, I'm never truly alone. If a tear or two rolls down my cheek because it hurts, I'm scared, or just plain sad that I'm going through another medical procedure that's OK!
As I count down the days until my next stem cell treatment next week (a double procedure this time) I am reminded that once again, I am called to walk humbly courageously towards my fear. The difference in facing my fears these days is TRUST. I wholeheartedly trust in the plan for my life. Maybe I will cry this time, maybe I won't. If I do, this time I won't feel like I've lost. Finally, and most importantly, I pray. I pray throughout the whole procedure, which in this case I'm awake for. That brings me comfort and peace, and I definitely feel less alone. It's great to be brave, but it's also ok to say out loud, I'm scared. That doesn't make you weak, it just reminds us that we are human. Stay tuned. Next week's blog will be all about stem cell procedure number two!
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