Alright, dear readers of the page, it’s time to write a little bit about surgery, and my fears surrounding it. Before that, we need to take a trip into the past.
June of 2007. We were living in South Florida at the time. I had been really sick with my Crohn’s, so it was decided that surgery was the only option. If I remember correctly (if not, ask Egg. She was there too), we had a date on the books, but I didn’t make it and had to go to the ER. Something like four/five hours later, I’m admitted to the hospital, then the battery of tests began.
I think somewhere in this period, or maybe it had crept on and I just didn’t catch it, but I must have had some type of mood event, because my anxiety cranked up past 10, and I was freaking out, screaming resisting, and crying. I was a mess, and truly, don’t remember too much, just patches and fog. I think the morphine may have been playing with me, so, at some point, I was switched to dilauded. Now, that is one hell of a drup, lemme tell you! Whoo! But, I digress…
During the actual surgery, which was a small bowel resection btw, I had just over a foot of my small and large intestines taken out. They sewed me up and took me to recovery. Oh, but before wheeling me into recovery, they didn’t have my spinal ready. so I was in the worst pain of my life when I finally awoke from surgery. Then, some hours after my surgery, and while me and Egg are in recovery, Egg notices that my side is red and bruised and that I am in quite a lot of pain. She finally gets the nurse who checks me out, then back we go for a second emergency surgery, where they took out more diseased intestine, then sew me back up again. But damn, if I don’t get pneumonia and land my ass in ICU (intensive care unit) for six/seven days. A short recovery turned into life or death, and very near death in my circumstance. It was scary, to say the least.
All of this brings me to the next question. After having this horrendous surgery where I almost died, what makes me want to go under the knife again, this time willingly? And the answer to that is: I don’t know. I am hoping that my surgery in 2007 was a fluke. From what I’ve read, it was a fluke. So, I guess the overriding thought here is that I am trans, and this is one of the ways I reconcile the disconnect between my mind and body. I’m not severely dysphoric about my nether regions. But I do sincerely believe that this will help to ease the constant drone of “what if” that plays in my mind.
So, here’s hoping that this surgery in April will go smoothly. If it doesn’t, then that is the end of elective surgery for me. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me, friends!!