My Surgery Part 1
This is going to be a long post. I mean very long, so to help I’m going to break it into sections pertaining to the different parts of the day of surgery and following. Hope you enjoy, and once again sorry I disappeared for so long.
What I Had Done: Laparoscopic Full/Complete Nissens Fundoplication
(I ended up being forced into laparoscopic, which I will discuss later, so don’t get your spoons in a twist.)
Getting There:
I can’t remember everything from that day, but I believe that my surgery was scheduled for 11 am, and we were to be there at 9:30 or 10 am. I woke up, got my “go” bag (I will make a post about a “go” bag later), and left. My mom drove me, my dad trailed behind. I was mad at them because it was day two of no food and they stopped at Akron Children Hospital’s coffee shop. I was a tad hangry, to say the least. We reached our check in location, which involved many turns and elevators. If you know ACH you know they are famous for their elevators. The lady was very nice and took us to a room with a curtain for a door, no biggie.
Paper Work and Procedurals:
First thing first the gown. I changed into the gown and pants and put mine in my go bag. When you are staying for a long surgery and stay, they give you the good, high-quality stuff, none of that paper/plastic fabric or the one size fits all blue drapes. Then we filled out the paperwork of who I was and what allergies I had. I got my two red bands, for my latex and medicine/food allergies, one on each arm, and we were set for paperwork on a legal aspect. It always pissed me off to watch the Red Band Society, because they used the red bands to signify big surgeries, but red bands in almost all hospitals (at least in America) signifies an allergy. I get one when I go to get an x-ray. My girlfriend got one when she went for a checkup and she’s a normal all spoons intact kind of person. Anyway, after that, I had to pee in a cup, which was dumb. Quick fact, I’m trans if you didn’t know, FTM, and I’m been on T for almost two years. My ovaries have been out of commission for awhile, and I’m not sexually active, but apparently, a pregnancy check was in order. I am aware its a legal thing, but I don’t think God is looking for the next Virgin Mary to be a trans kid about to get surgery.
DNR and Religous BS:
Okay so after this was done we met with the social worker. My parents signed some more forms, I signed some forms, and so on. I then told her that I wanted to get a DNR in place. Just to be clear, this is a SUPER SIMPLE EASY process, well she kinda did an 180, and I guess a few screws fell loose or something, because after she left, about 10 mins later, a Chaplain walked in. First off, I did not ask, nor did my parents ask for a Chaplain, or any kind of religious, or any other form of counseling. We were perfectly fine. I knew what I wanted, I knew the legal proceedings, and I knew who needed to be there to do what. So the hospital assumed just because we asked about a DNR we were somehow religiously affiliated. I told this woman I didn’t need her help, nor did I want it. She would not leave. She spent 20 mins about a foot from me (closer than my parents were) trying to talk me out of it. I told her I wasn’t interested in retracting my statement. Eventually, she left, only to return 10 mins later. At this point I was pissed. I previously was calm, and happy to be having this life changing surgery so I could fix a debilitating problem, but she had ruined this. She proceeded to try to talk me out of it and spoke to me as if I was a 6-year-old. If you knew me personally you would know that I do not like confrontation, and I do not like to be challenged on things pertaining to myself, in short, I’m bullheaded, and I do my research. This woman was getting on my last straw. She told me that ACH had a policy against DNR’s, and wouldn’t treat me if I had one. For one I have a feeling she was lying or didn’t know what she was talking about, and two if not, I think that is highly illegal. As DNR’s are the law. She gave me this hokey stuff to fill out with my parents about what I would like in the event I was going to die, but this only applied if I was brain-dead, which is not the point as to why I wanted the DNR. The papers were also only suggestions from child to parent, not law. The whole thing made me mad as hell. I ended up talking to my doctor, who is a great man, but also made me mad. He told me that he wouldn’t work on a patient who had a DNR. I think that is dumb, it defeats the purpose of a DNR. DNR’s are supposed to help improve life, not worsen. Refusing all treatment is the opposite of DNR. The whole thing was baloney. He also said that a healthy boy like me doesn’t need a DNR, which for one, anyone can have it, and two I’m not healthy. It just goes to show that even to doctors our disability/illness is invisible. So I ended up just consenting to the surgery without the DNR. I still plan on getting one, one day, but I needed that surgery, and unfortunately, that was the risk I had to take.
The Delay
Now technically this happened in the midst of the previous body of text, but it made more sense to describe it after. My surgery was scheduled for 11 am, but I did not have surgery until noon. This really isn’t a big deal I just thought I would throw it in for explanation sake, and so people know what to expect. My surgery was delayed because there was an emergency gastro surgery from the ER that my doctor had to help with. Like I said I was very happy to wait. We ended up needing the extra time to short out the above BS. Just so you know though things don’t generally follow the planned timeline in hospitals.
Surgery Time
Okay, so it was surgery time. They came and got me, but before I left the room I took off everything they didn’t give me except my underwear (some surgeries that come off too though) and put it in my go bag. So my glasses and what not. Then we walked to the operating room, and it is really bright, you walk unless you are unable. There were TV’s everywhere because it was a laparo surgery, which was cool to see. There was also a bunch of stains on the ground, but it looked more like spilled iodine, not blood. I highly doubt that you will ever see blood when you enter the room. I met my anesthesiologist, another doctor, a nurse who works with the anesthesia, and another nurse. They were all really nice, and I was cracking jokes with the anesthesia doc. I told him that in previous surgeries apon wake up I will rip out my IV, so he took the medical tape and wrapped it around my hand like 5 times which made me laugh. They are really good at their job. Since I’m a-okay with needles all my drugs were done through IV, until I was asleep. I never forget what happens then I go under, it just doesn’t make me forget, I remember the whole process, always have. After set up was done that was that. My doctor and a few others came in said hello, he was talking to me most of the time. Before they put the IV in you slip your arms out of the gown, but you’re always covered when you are awake. They put all the little electrodes on me and started to turn on stuff. As they put the drugs in they kept talking to me, asking me stuff like what I wanted to be, what colleges I was thinking about, how I liked school. My doctor was telling the other doctors about my crazy school and the weird classes I take, so that was fun. The nurse was always explaining things to me, and talking to me. She asked me if I was nervous and I never was. I always go into surgeries with the acceptance that if I die, that’s okay. I want to be at peace of mind. I’m always happy and content/calm when I go under, and I think that’s how it should be. The doctors and nurses I had definitely help with that. I also know a lot of the people at ACH, which helps. It took awhile but I fell asleep. The anesthesia is cold when it runs through your veins but they cover you up with warm blankets, so it's okay.
Well, that’s part one, I will be adding a part two soon. We are currently in the process of trying to move/sell our house so I’ve been very busy. I hope this is helpful to at least some of you, and entertaining to the rest.
