Pre-Surgery Ruminations at Fifty

The following was written a few days before my recent surgery on 11/4/09. More to come on the events leading up to surgery. I couldn't bring myself to post this until now. Too raw.

The panic wells up inside me like molten lava ready to spew forth from a rumbling, angry volcano. I have to swallow it down by sheer force of will in order to keep my composure.

When I was 20 years old and facing the same surgery, I had the naivete of youth to blind me to all the possible outcomes of the horror that lie ahead of me...cutting open my chest, pulling it apart like so much taffy, only to cross clamp my aorta, stop my heart and as they manipulate it,cut into it and hope to God it starts back again after laying dormant in my chest for 4-5 hours. It never occurred to me then that I could die, that I could stroke out or that I could have emboli fly off into my vessels that would go hurtling towards the smaller vessels of my brain causing long term cognitive deficits. What I wouldn't give now for that cloak of protective armor called youth and ignorance. It allows the young to engage in risk taking behaviors without regard to consequences because they believe nothing bad will happen. It's not within their radar to even consider it. It is youth's greatest strength. It allows for great risks and even greater accomplishments.

When I was a child, I always felt older than my age. As an adult, I never felt as old as I was. And so it is now. I don't feel fifty. I don't feel sick. I don't feel sick enough to warrant risking another surgery. And I don't believe that I will die. But that is my internal drive to persevere talking. My brain knows better; it knows more. I am now unwillingly armed with graphic knowledge of the prevalence, incidence risks and complications. I know all the statistics that we don't like talking about with our patients. Only I am the patient. My doctors treat me with professional courtesy, as a fellow provider. They tell me all the gory statistics with clinical detachment, without cushioning the blow. But, I already knew them. I did my research. But it still feels like a sledge hammer in my chest when I hear it spoken out loud.

Never one to show fear, I push it deeper inside. But I am afraid. I am afraid that my children will never know how much I loved them, how much I wanted them and how incredibly proud I am of them. Afraid I will not see them grow into themselves and discover who they will become. Afraid I will miss out on the best part of my life...that with my beloved partner who it took me 36+ years to find. Afraid for her. Afraid for them. Afraid they will feel abandoned. It is only human to wish we have made some impact on others and I suppose I am no different.

But my life has always been about overcoming the odds. My fear now drives me to prove it wrong. My fear is not reality. Reality is what I perceive it to be. Change my perception and I change my reality. And so I choose to believe that I will come through this as I did when I was twenty...only better. I am more fit now than I was then, healthier and more determined. I have more yet to do in this lifetime and I have more to live for than I did then.

I don't feel fifty. I don't feel sick enough. And I don't believe that I will die. That is my reality.