December 19, 2000

Today marks the ten year anniversary of my colectomy. Ten years ago, today, I lost my large intestine... It all feels very surreal. Some aspects of that day are as crystal clear as the images I'm viewing on my computer screen, at this moment. While other aspects are only known to me because my mom has informed me of them over the years.

More for my own records, here is a list of what I remember about December 19, 2000 and the weeks/months following it.

I remember...

• Being wheeled back to the OR
• Drifting off to sleep
• Waking in my hospital room where my mom, dad, brother, and grandma waited for me
• Having some sort of test done which caused excruciating pain ("more pain than I should have been feeling at the point"), later to find out I had masses of infections in my abdomen
• My mom sleeping on a recliner. (She had the night shifts and would switch off with my dad around 6am every morning so she could head back to the hotel to get some sleep/a shower.)
• Frosted Flakes
• The sound of my mom's shoes as she exited the elevator and headed toward my room.
• The old lady next to me who sounded exactly. like. Yoda. and somehow got used popcicle sticks stuck behind her.....
• My morphine pump
• Nearly fainting when trying to stand up for a CT scan and my dad catching me before I fell.
• Trying to walk for the first time and not being able to stand up straight.
• Snow. Lots and lots of snow.
• Finding out my white blood cell count had finally decreased enough that we could go home 17 days post surgery. I should note, this is pretty significant as we were told I'd be in Cleveland for 5-6 days post surgery which would have gotten us home in time for Christmas. Instead, we were stuck in Cleveland for Christmas, my brother's 21st birthday, and New Years.
• My aunt, uncle, and cousins bringing us Christmas dinner and a video from my family from Christmas Eve.
• What I wore home from Cleveland (red waffle shirt, overalls, matching socks)
• Sleeping in my own bed for the first time in nearly three weeks
• Finding out that after one night in my own bed, I had to go back to the hospital for another week.
• Encountering the worst nurse I've ever dealt with.
• Multiple IV attempts in one night because my veins were so shot.

• Finally having a quality of life again....... I'll admit, I don't remember the exact moment when I noticed I had my life back, but at some point it happened. At some point, all of the pain (physical and emotional) for myself and my family finally became worth it. At some point, perhaps 6 months or so post surgery, I regained my life. At some point, I actually felt well. And it wasn't until that point when I finally realized how terrible and miserable I had felt all those years leading up to surgery. It wasn't until that point that I realized how lucky I was that surgery was an option for me at all and was successful (aside for the complications throughout) in the end.

Today, I feel nervous. Plain and simple. I feel nervous that I don't have much time left with my health and things will soon take a turn. At the same time, I feel lucky. Lucky to have gotten the years I had and lucky to have regained my life for so long.