4. Microdiscectomy and failure
I arrived to the hospital early, something like 4:30 am for a 7am start time. It was dark, I was nervous, and I had to start the business end of the surgery process: Check in. I thought to myself I am walking in here, no one would believe you need spine surgery, you look totally normal. I checked in with the receptionist and got my wrist band, listed insurance info, asked if I had a medical directive, gave my emergency contact, etc. and then a porter came and showed us to the surgical area. This hospital is in Santa Monica and when we arrived to the entrance it was like a nice hotel’s valet. I think we did valet as I don’t remember what happened to the car. This hospital is one of the nicest I’ve ever been to. I had to say goodbye to my husband at the surgery center and I was pulled back to my waiting area. I had to change into a paper gown, hair net, and hospital socks. Jan was allowed back after a little bit and he stayed and waited with me. Surgery policy is you can’t wear contacts, only glasses, no jewelry, and I had to do a week’s regimen of using hibicleans to limit possibility of infection.
Once you’re waiting a while you start to get cold. This paper gown had all these ports in different areas. When I asked for more blankets the nurse asked if I wanted the hot air instead. The paper gown is an air suit. Amazing. The rest of the surgical floor staff came over to make their acquaintances which included my floor nurse, floor doctor, OR nurses, anesthesiologist, phlebotomist, and others I can’t remember. Since I didn’t know my blood type that test was done along with some prelabs. After 7:30 the nurses said they were waiting on orders from the doctor to start my IV but he hadn’t arrived to the hospital. At 9:30 they told me he was running late but that they had some of my orders and were going to start my IV fuids and antibiotics. Immediately after given the antibiotic my scalp started to itch. Then my neck and ears. I told my husband and he said it was red but only because I was scratching. I said no something is up and I’m really itchy. We called our my nurse and she flung everything off of my body, bush up and out to the world, and said “oh crap”. The floor doctor ran over and said “she’s having an allergic reaction” and I was given Benadryl though the IV.
After the rash calmed down we waited and waited some more. Still no doctor. I got up to pee several times, started becoming friendly with all the staff as they were waiting around too, ready to get to work. I asked one of the nurses if they could do anything to make me calmer, I was starting to have major anxiety and I was extremely thirsty and hungry as I was fasting since the afternoon before. The anesthesiologist gave me a light sedative to relax and then I heard the doctor had finally arrived. It was close to 11:30 now. Zero explanation when he arrived. I couldn’t help but think Super Bowl was the night before and maybe things got out of control? I walked myself into the OR and got into the bed. The large male nurse with the beard hair net asked me what music I wanted to hear and he had Native American Flute planning for me as I walked in. seconds after laying down they said they were starting sedation and I was out. Completely.
When I woke up my left leg was tingling like it was hooked up to electrical lines. I was thirsty, I was starving, and I couldn’t see anything. They took away my glasses. It was 4:30 PM. My surgery started hours late and went hours longer than expected. The herniation was massive. It was 6mm by 8mm by 11mm and crescent shaped. I felt ok and was eager to go home and eat food. When Jan made it to my room they were overwhelming him with the dos and don’t, running to the pharmacy, and he kept telling me my tits we out. I went into OR with the paper gown and came out stark naked. Only half a blanket over my waist. What the hell? I was discharged with a walker and pain meds and a feeling I needed to get the hell out as I’ve way out stayed my welcome. The ride home was uneventful and I even walked my dog and felt really good. I didn’t feel like anything happened except I had a bandage and completely numb left foot and lower leg.
This was way less scary than I thought it would be. I was concerned about my foot, and the fact the surgeon was extremely later, but overall I felt very hopeful.
Until 3am. 3am is when the anesthesia wore off and I felt extreme nerve pain for the first time in my life. And this, this was no joke.
Recovery was way harder than I thought. Sleeping was harder than I thought it would be. The pain was worse than I imagined it could be. And progress, it was slow. I used medical marijuanna to help extend the pain meds, it seemed to give them an extra few hours effectiveness and it helped with the nausea. I couldn’t tolerate the pain pills more than a few days which was good because the nausea patch wore off and I wasn’t pooping either. It was a struggle to get a hold of the doctor’s office. I needed something for the nausea and something to help me poop. It took two weeks for them to give me a stool softener. I was bloated on top of everything else.
I’m not sure exactly when, but sometime in the weeks after surgery I started having night terror dreams/ nightmares. I was having these sleep conversations with a terror demon (a gooey black blurry evil entity stuck in the corners of the rooms) and they (the entity) were trying to convince me I was dead. I was dead and stop fighting it and just let go. It was terrifying. I am an atheist and don’t believe in an afterlife of heaven or hell, or that there is a god or gods, or even evil spirits. I believe humans make up their beliefs and now my brain was manifesting this.
Cool.
Two weeks post op I got the bandage and sutures removed and saw the ortho surgeon. I told him about how I now had these nerve symptoms on my left leg and that parts of my leg and foot were numb and buzzing. He said it was nothing to worry about and sent me on my way. At my one month follow up, I again mentioned the new nerve issues and numbness and the continued back pain and he said oh that’s unusual and now called my surgery a failure. I again asked about the possibility of dealing with the Bertolotti’s issues and a resection and again he refused to discuss any possible treatments. Told me I needed to do PT but refused to give a referral. He wrote the script and “best of luck to you”. Ok, I’ll go fuck myself.