I didn't Google anything about it because I knew I would read something I didn't want to, but I did make the mistake of joining a Facebook Group for my specific defect. WELL... It was a host of horror stories, mostly about plug closures via the artery. The amount of people who had to go back more than once for the procedure was phenomenal & I was in no way prepared to have my ticker played with multiple times to only end up having open heart anyway (quite a few people had this happen). Needless to say I ended up leaving that group within a week & although I was already mentally prepared for open heart surgery, this gave me the mindset that despite what the tests showed & what the cardiologist said there was no way I was going for anything less than what was going to fix it. I was prepared to question the plug option were it presented to me.
And so, throughout all of the tests & procedures, all of the preparations, despite all of the fear & anxiety about the whole situation, the logical side of my brain always won out. Everything was a question of what needed to be done & how to see it through. The worry could come later. After my angiogram/heart catheter, I knew it would be mere weeks until I had the actually surgery; and because I'm a planner & a stress-head, I was all over that. Leigh, a nurse from the surgical bookings team at the hospital got well acquainted with me over the next week & a half. I could hear her sigh & frustration every time I called. She was never rude but I was certainly being a squeaky wheel - I wanted to be oiled! The pushing kept me on task, not thinking about what was about to happen, just getting busy organising it. The same with the weeks lead up to surgery when I cooked & shopped & tidied to make life easier for Jake while I was away. Even the unexpected extra week I was able to make use of myself.
I knew the night before & the morning of surgery would be super hard. Even in the early days of diagnosis, deep down I was already fearful that something would go wrong & I would not wake up again - that is obvious by the fact that I went to get a Will done. Logically, the surgery was simple & routine in this day & age, there was such a minimal risk for me. Buuuut, because of all the pop-up allergies, particularly medical ones, that had only been found this year alone coupled with the fact that I've watched Final Destination too many times... there was always worry & doubt.
But that was all I had prepared for. I knew I had to hold onto my logical & sane thoughts until that moment when I was finally under, when they could go ahead & do what needed to be done & I wouldn't need to think about it anymore. I had prepared meals, babysitters, drivers, finances, sleeping arrangements, paperwork out the wazoo. I had not prepared for the hospital days which were way harder than anticipated & I had not prepared to come home & do anything other than recover. To follow instructions with medications, wounds, exercised & otherwise enjoy the down time to read, catch up on good shows, paint, play the PlayStation, maybe try to draw a little.
I was not prepared.
My first night home was a little bit of a blur. Discharge from the hospital & getting home had been exhausting. Jake was home with me for the remainder of the week which meant two full days of just us at home while Charli was at daycare & a full weekend to spend together. We went for walks as part of my exercises given by the hospital, Jake slept on the lounge next to me while I slept on the recliner. For company at night when anxieties would pop up. We went to doctors appointments, we watched some movies & each day got harder. I was off the charts with anxiety, which was hard but I can always manage. It was going way off the deep end with depression. A low I haven't felt for a very long time. I was so scared come Sunday night, the combination of everything I was feeling added to the fact that Jake was headed back to work the next day left me in a hot mess.
For anyone who hasn't felt the lowest of what depression can feel like, it's indescribable. The loss of control over your own mind & emotions is incredible. Complete hopelessness, all-consuming fear and despite any logic, despite any previous victorious battles with the condition, nothing will convince you you will feel okay again.
So, Sunday night, still uncomfortable with bowel movements, I was on the loo trying to let anything happen when I was overcome emotionally. I called for Jake & BEGGED for him to do something. Not really knowing what the hell was happening to me, Jake was at a bit of a loss so I ended up blubbering/yelling at him to either take me to the hospital or call someone to come help. To add to the chaos, Charli had woken up from her sleep inconsolable after what we think was a nightmare. So, in the end Jake ended up on the couch cuddling Charli & I ended up on the couch cuddling Mum. A relaxant & a hit of Endone made me less tense & erratic. I was too scared to be alone for a while after that & Jake had an extra day off to make sure I was okay.
None of this made any sense to me. The hardest part of this whole thing was supposed to be just before the surgery. Emotionally & mentally, being home & recovering was supposed to be the easiest part. I planned for everything else but this. Since then I've taken each hour, each day bit by bit. Thankfully the intensity & frequency have both died down but I have found myself with intense fears around death & hospital that I have never had before. At the moment Jake is still sleeping on the couch every night by my side, fighting for space with the dog because he knows Nelson helps too. My Mum still comes every day, not only to help me do all of the things I can't so myself but to make sure I am feeling okay in myself. But, as my pain has become less intense and tiring & I've been able to do more things independently (still so far from back to normal), I seem to have been able to deal with my thoughts & feelings better. I'm hopeful the trend will continue & once I'm back to normal this will be another memorable victory for me.
So it hasn't been a happy chapter, but it's all part of the journey so I'm writing it. I am so thankful for my amazing support team. I've never had a day go by without someone helping or just stopping in to keep me company while I am stuck at home. I appreciate every single message, call & visit. Love you all x
And so, throughout all of the tests & procedures, all of the preparations, despite all of the fear & anxiety about the whole situation, the logical side of my brain always won out. Everything was a question of what needed to be done & how to see it through. The worry could come later. After my angiogram/heart catheter, I knew it would be mere weeks until I had the actually surgery; and because I'm a planner & a stress-head, I was all over that. Leigh, a nurse from the surgical bookings team at the hospital got well acquainted with me over the next week & a half. I could hear her sigh & frustration every time I called. She was never rude but I was certainly being a squeaky wheel - I wanted to be oiled! The pushing kept me on task, not thinking about what was about to happen, just getting busy organising it. The same with the weeks lead up to surgery when I cooked & shopped & tidied to make life easier for Jake while I was away. Even the unexpected extra week I was able to make use of myself.
I knew the night before & the morning of surgery would be super hard. Even in the early days of diagnosis, deep down I was already fearful that something would go wrong & I would not wake up again - that is obvious by the fact that I went to get a Will done. Logically, the surgery was simple & routine in this day & age, there was such a minimal risk for me. Buuuut, because of all the pop-up allergies, particularly medical ones, that had only been found this year alone coupled with the fact that I've watched Final Destination too many times... there was always worry & doubt.
But that was all I had prepared for. I knew I had to hold onto my logical & sane thoughts until that moment when I was finally under, when they could go ahead & do what needed to be done & I wouldn't need to think about it anymore. I had prepared meals, babysitters, drivers, finances, sleeping arrangements, paperwork out the wazoo. I had not prepared for the hospital days which were way harder than anticipated & I had not prepared to come home & do anything other than recover. To follow instructions with medications, wounds, exercised & otherwise enjoy the down time to read, catch up on good shows, paint, play the PlayStation, maybe try to draw a little.
I was not prepared.
My first night home was a little bit of a blur. Discharge from the hospital & getting home had been exhausting. Jake was home with me for the remainder of the week which meant two full days of just us at home while Charli was at daycare & a full weekend to spend together. We went for walks as part of my exercises given by the hospital, Jake slept on the lounge next to me while I slept on the recliner. For company at night when anxieties would pop up. We went to doctors appointments, we watched some movies & each day got harder. I was off the charts with anxiety, which was hard but I can always manage. It was going way off the deep end with depression. A low I haven't felt for a very long time. I was so scared come Sunday night, the combination of everything I was feeling added to the fact that Jake was headed back to work the next day left me in a hot mess.
For anyone who hasn't felt the lowest of what depression can feel like, it's indescribable. The loss of control over your own mind & emotions is incredible. Complete hopelessness, all-consuming fear and despite any logic, despite any previous victorious battles with the condition, nothing will convince you you will feel okay again.
So, Sunday night, still uncomfortable with bowel movements, I was on the loo trying to let anything happen when I was overcome emotionally. I called for Jake & BEGGED for him to do something. Not really knowing what the hell was happening to me, Jake was at a bit of a loss so I ended up blubbering/yelling at him to either take me to the hospital or call someone to come help. To add to the chaos, Charli had woken up from her sleep inconsolable after what we think was a nightmare. So, in the end Jake ended up on the couch cuddling Charli & I ended up on the couch cuddling Mum. A relaxant & a hit of Endone made me less tense & erratic. I was too scared to be alone for a while after that & Jake had an extra day off to make sure I was okay.
None of this made any sense to me. The hardest part of this whole thing was supposed to be just before the surgery. Emotionally & mentally, being home & recovering was supposed to be the easiest part. I planned for everything else but this. Since then I've taken each hour, each day bit by bit. Thankfully the intensity & frequency have both died down but I have found myself with intense fears around death & hospital that I have never had before. At the moment Jake is still sleeping on the couch every night by my side, fighting for space with the dog because he knows Nelson helps too. My Mum still comes every day, not only to help me do all of the things I can't so myself but to make sure I am feeling okay in myself. But, as my pain has become less intense and tiring & I've been able to do more things independently (still so far from back to normal), I seem to have been able to deal with my thoughts & feelings better. I'm hopeful the trend will continue & once I'm back to normal this will be another memorable victory for me.
So it hasn't been a happy chapter, but it's all part of the journey so I'm writing it. I am so thankful for my amazing support team. I've never had a day go by without someone helping or just stopping in to keep me company while I am stuck at home. I appreciate every single message, call & visit. Love you all x
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