In my prior post, https://braincancerbabe.com/2016/06/29/the-confirmed-recurrence-and-yet-another-brain-surgery I explained that on June 30, 2015, I underwent my second brain surgery.
There isn’t much I’d detail about the day of that second surgery. It was pretty much the same routine over again. There were several ridiculous moments in the pre-op process though. Just to add some levity to a seriously scary situation, I’ll explain.
My surgery was delayed for quite a while (at least an hour or more) because the nursing staff found that my results of the routine pregnancy test, given to any female patient under a certain age, was “inconclusive.” The chaos this caused around the staff was almost unbelievable – laughable even, if it hadn’t been me. The staff even went so far as to call down a “specialist” to review the results. Mind you, they never spoke to me directly – I overheard it all through my very bare curtain while sitting in my pre-op bed. Of course, I knew full-well I was not pregnant. Did I really need this on top of waiting for my second brain surgery???
My neurosurgeon finally came in with a smile on his face. “So, you’re not pregnant!” He clearly realized the ridiculousness too. He always does though. That’s why I love him so much.
Another thing I will never forget is the first nurse they assigned to prepare me for surgery. I can say with absolute sincerity, I have never encountered what I’d consider a “bad nurse” in my hospital… with the exception of this one. Let’s call her Jane (I don’t even know her real name anyway).
Jane was relatively young. She was probably in her late 20s. She never smiled. She was completely monotone when she spoke. Basically, she seemed like this was the last place she wanted to be. Ya know, mind you, she was dealing with patients going into brain surgery! Suck it up, honey! If you’re having a “bad day” mine is probably a little worse. So, needless to say, the pre-op station was probably the last place she should have been assigned.
On top of her miserable demeanor, it was her duty to give me my IV. I mentioned casually as she was prepping the IV that I had great veins and no one had ever missed a vein. Murphy’s Law, of course. What would you know? She was so mindless that of course, she missed my vein. Apart from failing to get my vein, it actually hurt a lot. I immediately began to cry, hard. Rather than apologize, she took out the needle, rolled her eyes and sighed in annoyance. Then, she stalked out of the area.
As if in a movie, kinda like Wonder Woman, another nurse (Let’s call her Mary) pulled back the curtain, swooped in and took charge! While Jane attempted to come back in, Mary abruptly turned to her and said in no uncertain terms, “I’ve got this!” I never saw Jane again, thankfully.
From then on, Mary stayed with me, even wheeling me into the operating room. We talked about imagining my favorite place, the beach, and sipping cocktails all day in the sun. She helped soothe me and calm me down. I laughed and smiled the whole time she was with me. Thank God for Mary.
So, with Mary by my side, there I was, in the operating room. I was surrounded by surgical staff frantically running all around. Once again, I was looking up at the enormous operating room lights. I could hear the loud hum of the MRI machine. I was just about to undergo my second brain surgery, just doing it all over again.