JOSEPH HOLBROOK
I've been fortunate only to have had a few surgeries in my life. . .so far. I did have a recent one that was kind of interesting from a personal standpoint and so it seems appropriate to jot down it down in the Journal:
A right side inguinal hernia had been getting more and more bothersome over the last year or so, aching if I exercised or even walked too much. It's a tear in the groin muscle in case you're unaware. Part of you "pops" out and causes a bump (golf ball size in my case) and you can "push" it back in. The thing that's popping out is your intestines. . .through a torn muscle wall. It's the damnedest thing when you think about it. Putting off repair can be dangerous and I have no excuse for waiting other than I hadn't died from it yet.
It seemed odd to me that the problem was on the same side as a hernia I had about 30 years ago. I remember being told back then that once a hernia was repaired, that side was actually stronger than it was before. I mentioned this to the Doctor and I must say, it's always a little embarrassing when a Doctor looks at you as though he thinks you buy into every wives tale that comes down the pike. He straightened me out about it. He added, however, that repair procedures are much better these days, using polypropylene mesh and plugs sutured to the muscle, rather than just stitching the muscle back together. Pretty neat. And no I'm not worried about how polypropylene might react in the body over the next 20 years, and I'm not going to ask . . . I might look it up though . . .even though it's too late to do anything about it now.
The operation was to be an "out-patient" procedure, which is certainly different than it was 30 years ago. A one or two night stay was normal back then. I called my Mother and my Brother to let them know about the surgery. My wife told me that letting them know about it was the right thing to do, though I'm not absolutely sure why that's so. I suppose it's because caring people like to know ahead of time when someone they care about is going to go through something. . . medical. Nearly all of us have an innate belief that good thoughts before, during and after a medical procedure will be of help to the one going through it. For some, it is a religious effort.
Then again, with other people I think its more like: "I'll think about you at least once while you're in the hospital and that way I'll feel like my bases are covered if you don't make it out alive." And I do believe there are those negative few who silently say good bye: (". . . best of luck with the hospital thing, hope you don't die, but if you do, good bye. . . its been a treat.")
As an aside: When I told my brother about the upcoming hernia surgery and told him it was on the same side that I had one before, he said, "I thought that when you had a hernia fixed, that side was stronger than before." One more of life's questions answered.
A right side inguinal hernia had been getting more and more bothersome over the last year or so, aching if I exercised or even walked too much. It's a tear in the groin muscle in case you're unaware. Part of you "pops" out and causes a bump (golf ball size in my case) and you can "push" it back in. The thing that's popping out is your intestines. . .through a torn muscle wall. It's the damnedest thing when you think about it. Putting off repair can be dangerous and I have no excuse for waiting other than I hadn't died from it yet.
It seemed odd to me that the problem was on the same side as a hernia I had about 30 years ago. I remember being told back then that once a hernia was repaired, that side was actually stronger than it was before. I mentioned this to the Doctor and I must say, it's always a little embarrassing when a Doctor looks at you as though he thinks you buy into every wives tale that comes down the pike. He straightened me out about it. He added, however, that repair procedures are much better these days, using polypropylene mesh and plugs sutured to the muscle, rather than just stitching the muscle back together. Pretty neat. And no I'm not worried about how polypropylene might react in the body over the next 20 years, and I'm not going to ask . . . I might look it up though . . .even though it's too late to do anything about it now.
The operation was to be an "out-patient" procedure, which is certainly different than it was 30 years ago. A one or two night stay was normal back then. I called my Mother and my Brother to let them know about the surgery. My wife told me that letting them know about it was the right thing to do, though I'm not absolutely sure why that's so. I suppose it's because caring people like to know ahead of time when someone they care about is going to go through something. . . medical. Nearly all of us have an innate belief that good thoughts before, during and after a medical procedure will be of help to the one going through it. For some, it is a religious effort.
Then again, with other people I think its more like: "I'll think about you at least once while you're in the hospital and that way I'll feel like my bases are covered if you don't make it out alive." And I do believe there are those negative few who silently say good bye: (". . . best of luck with the hospital thing, hope you don't die, but if you do, good bye. . . its been a treat.")
As an aside: When I told my brother about the upcoming hernia surgery and told him it was on the same side that I had one before, he said, "I thought that when you had a hernia fixed, that side was stronger than before." One more of life's questions answered.
Checking in, preparation and the inevitable waiting for the surgeon took a couple of hours. At the last minute, there was an extenuating circumstance (a high potassium count) that prevented surgery under general anesthetic (where you're totally out); so, I was given a choice: Pass on the surgery, or . . . get a Spinal shot, an Epidural.
I'm sure there are more than a few mothers out there familiar with the term. It's a shot in the spine that paralyzes and totally numbs the lower half of the body. Great for painless birthing, but I'm sure my face became quite contorted as I told the anesthesiologist that I really didn't want to talk about anything that had the word SPINE associated with it. He took his time, explained the procedure thoroughly and after subjecting him to a brief but in-depth interrogation regarding his expertise and experience, I surrendered to the inevitable.
The Epidural went according to Hoyle with the exception of just a tiny fraction of a second while he was poking around with the needle. Despite a previously injected local anesthetic, it literally felt like an electric jolt to the very core of my being. I NEVER had such a feeling before. It was one of those minute glimpses into a realm of penetrating pain that makes you realize what the word "horror" might really mean. An involuntary yelp emanated from my throat and he said: "Sorry, must have touched a nerve". My response was to the point, " Well. . . DON"T do that again !!"
The Epidural was in the process of taking affect and they were preparing the rest of me, when the anesthesiologist said he was going to inject a couple of drugs that would put me into a twilight sleep, but not totally out. I asked him if the drugs were a requirement and he said, "well no, they're not a requirement." I told him I'd pass on the drugs, that I had some ability to meditate effectively when I want and so I'd just rather do that. He agreed, though haltingly, and added that I could ask for the drugs at any time if I changed my mind. I didn't though. Later I found that very few if any people opt for a "no drugs" approach.
Meditation is often interpreted as strictly a religious practice and that's a shame. It certainly can be used for that purpose, but it's actually just a method of focus and relaxation. I've enjoyed using it for decades. There have been years on end when I practiced daily to keep myself centered and relaxed, and I admit to years with almost no meditation at all. It's kind of like one's diet. You can eat responsibly, stay fit and feel well, or slip into periods of eating what you want, getting fat and feeling like a schlub. Like all things, with a little practice, it can all be balanced out to exclude extremes. There's no need for fanaticism in anything.
Meditation is not just an invaluable tool, it's a natural ability. Not using it is rather like being able to walk, but not doing so because it's easier to avoid it. Many people excel in avoidance. I've always believed meditation should be taught in every home and in every school. Leave it to humankind to avoid or prohibit something useful because somebody else has attached their religion to it.
A second and third reason I chose the meditation route over the drugs is (1) I wouldn't have to come "down" from the drugs in order to get the hell out of there and (2) It was a unique opportunity to meditate with only half-a-body. . .figuratively anyway.
There were no complications on the medical side and the 45 minutes it took to do the whole job went reasonably fast. The meditation was also a success. The "numb-half-body" WAS pretty interesting. I remained perfectly motionless during the whole thing and attained that sought after "free-floating calm" quite often. I assume it wasn't continuous because I'm a bit out of practice, but I'm pleased to have chosen the no-drug approach. It was actually the perfect scenario: Someone else did the dirty work, while I attained a genuine sense of peace and accomplishment by doing absolutely nothing. . . but doing it well.
Oddly enough, the most disconcerting part of the whole experience was "Recovery". Of course everyone responds a little differently to drugs, and in my case, it took 4 hours for the Epidural to wear off enough for me to be helped into a wheel chair and wheeled out of there. (It took a total of 6-7 hours for it to wear off completely).
Lying in the Recovery room, totally wide awake and without any feeling whatsoever in the whole lower half of my body is not something I'd necessarily choose to experience again. No matter how disciplined one might be, it's impossible not to think about people with spinal injuries. A dozen or more times over that 4 hour period, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd do if the feeling in my body didn't come back. . .I couldn't help but remember that electric jolt when I was getting the Epidural. It crossed my mind. . .Gee, I haven't felt anything since that guy hit a nerve. I'm a reasonably positive person and it was rather strange to be aware of myself even thinking about these kinds of things.
I don't think I'll ever forget touching my lower body parts, only to have my fingertips feel they were touching something. . .but having absolutely no sense as to what. You know in your mind that it will wear off, but there's a degree of unavoidable angst when half of you is dead to any feeling at all. In answer to your probable question, Yes I did employ more meditation during the recovery, but 6 hours is a long time. It's not like I'm not a professional meditator or anything. . .you know.
All in all I was happy to make the most out of a bad situation and should you ever be given the option of an Epidural, I'd suggest trying it. It's an interesting experience. . . at least once. . .for perspective. (Joseph Holbrook © 2007 )