At about 3pm in the afternoon, (I don't have a journal entry for this but I am like Rain Man when it comes to remembering treatment dates) I went in for bowel surgery. Almost ten months after my last chemotherapy I ended up in emergency with a partial bowel obstruction and the surgeon was about to take out a section of my jejunum. I had been sick all November and December and my doctors were pretty sure that I had scarring from the Lymphoma in my bowel that was causing partial obstructions and subsequently pain and nausea. However, every time I went for tests, they couldn't find anything. Now, I was obstructed and in pain and they could see the blockage on Xray.
I was excited about the operation. Or at least relieved. I had been struggling for months without answers and I was relieved to have a fix. The only issue was that I was feeling really sick and over-drugged before surgery. This was Thursday. I had had nothing by mouth since Monday, and I had been having Morphine every four hours. I was starting to hallucinate and feel panic. I think that my kidneys were having trouble breaking down the morphine. By the time I was prepped for surgery I was shaking and beside myself with fear. And I was weak. I was so scared that my body was too weak to handle the surgery. I remember laying out by the desk in the Surgery ward, waiting to be taken in. I closed my eyes and tried to meditate. I tried to see my chakras, I tried my yoga breathing, I even just tried digging my fingernails into my hand. Tears were streaming down my face when the surgeon came to talk to me. I think he was surprised at my state. I know I was. This was a routine, almost boring operation for him. But I was in a place where I had lost all my strength. He squeezed my hand and rolled me in.
