“So tomorrow is the big day. The day I finally have my surgery. I don't know how well I'm going to sleep tonight. I'm not scared but I'm anxious and excited because I've been waiting so long for this moment. I guess I'm at the point of thinking let's just do it so we can start the healing process. I'd love nothing more than to go back home and spend nights with my family instead of spending nights alone in the hospital.
This past week has been quite the experience. Although I've enjoyed alone time, quiet time and caught up on a ton of reading, I really do miss being home with my family.
There won't be any posts or updates from me tomorrow so please look out for them on Friday or Saturday.
My mom and my husband will be keeping those close to us updated on when I come out of surgery.
Thank you all for your love and support over these last few months. Especially to my husband who's been doing it all, literally all on his own.”
That was my Facebook post, one year ago.
January 12, 2017 was the day I went in for surgery. My first surgery. The surgery that I was so desperately waiting for.
As I reflect back to that day a TON of emotions flood through me. It was such a dark time for me. The lowest I have ever felt. I was filled with fear, guilt, anxiety – I was a ball of stress – but, I tried my best to hide it. There was no way I was going to add more worry for my family. I smiled when I had visitors. I cried when I was alone. It wasn’t until three days after surgery that I finally felt that heavy burden of fear, guilt and anxiety, lift from me.
I will never forget sitting on the stretcher, waiting to be taken into the operating room. I was with my Dad, my Mom, my Brother and my Husband. I was laughing with them, trying so hard to show them that I was going to be okay and that they had nothing to worry about. Inside, I was shaking. When the nurse began to roll me into the room, my heart was racing. I had no idea what to expect and what the other side of the door was going to look like. A particular moment I will never forget was laying on the operating table, while one doctor gave me the rundown, asked my name, my date of birth, and another doctor hooked me up to heart monitors – I had this outer body experience. It was like I was watching it from above me, watching me laying on the table – and I panicked.
As I write this, like most my blog posts, I have to stop and cry it out. Not just tears rolling down my cheek as I type, but a good, ugly cry is happening right now. I’m currently wrapped in one of the blankets I had with me in the hospital. Then, it was a piece of comfort and home to have with me. Today, it’s a reminder of where I once was, and how far I’ve come.
It’s extremely difficult to put into words how I truly felt a year ago. I was scared. So scared. Scared my kids were going to lose their mom. Scared my husband would be a single dad. Scared my parents would lose their daughter.
I am forever grateful for the team of doctors who took care of me that day. For them, it was another day in the office. For me, it was a second chance at life.
Recently, my father in law asked me if I still worry about it coming back; the crohn’s disease becoming active again. He was extremely shocked my quick response of YES. Despite the successful surgery, the year of recovery, the weight gain, the healthy eating, the better sleep, greater energy and all this, I am still extremely fearful. Why? Because there is NO CURE. I carry the gene, it can, and most likely will again in my lifetime, reoccur. I don’t necessarily live in fear; however, I live cautiously. I try very hard to eat a diet of foods that don’t trigger me. I try to listen to my body more, and rest when I know I’ve over done it. I spend more time with my kids and enjoy little moments with them. I try not to stress so much, especially over things I can not change. I feel like, the moment I forget how much the pain hurt, how much I hated seeing my body lose so much weight, that’ll be the moment I get sick again.
I hope I never go through what I went through prior to surgery. In fact, I hope it never comes down to surgery, ever again.
I am grateful for the second chance. I blessed for this past year of recovery. But I doubt I will ever forget what happened one year ago.
*to read about my surgery, click here*
"A scare simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you."