Prayer Request

Hi folks,
This time tomorrow I'll be at the beginning of the next stage of this journey. Russell will be updating the blog while I'm getting the ability to type and read back. Please keep me in your prayers and good thoughts (however you connect to spirit and good). Here are some of the things I'm inviting into this journey if you want to help more specifically.

• Countless opportunities to appreciate the humor, strength, generosity, kindness and love of my amazing family and friends
• Amazement in the human mind and body's ability to heal and adapt
• Moments of pride for excelling at tasks once thought too hard to attempt
• Fast and clean healing of the tissue on my back that leads to continued strength and flexibility for years to come
• A stable and healthy spine that gives me the structural support needed to feel sound and grounded.
• Commitment to continuing to take care of my body
• A surplus of financial resources to meet my obligations
• A surgery and recovery that goes smoother than anyone could reasonably predict

Everything's a priority

Posted to another discussion board earlier today:

I mentioned a little bit ago that my life was full of lists as the surgery approached. Well, as common sense would predict, the lists haven't gotten any smaller really. It seems like the closer I get closer to the day the more stuff pops up demanding immediate attention. This is the kind of vanilla problem that mucks up the works for kinky lifestyles all the time. But this time it's happening to me and I want to whine about it a little.

Max and I have a precedent that I write a detailed reflective narrative after each overnight date. At first they were necessary for clear communication, then they were a tool for course correction, now they function as a verbal photo album. He can search through his archives of emails from me and dig up all kinds of little tid-bits to play with in other scenes. As you might predict, he was really clear about wanting one after our first long weekend together--so much so that he made time for me to make notes while we were still up at the cabin. Even with the set of notes though, it still takes about 4 hours to compose the kind of reflection I've become accustomed to giving about just one day and I had 4 to write about. I love writing these things because they give me a chance to relive the experiences while I'm trying to describe them to him. This was an absolute priority to get done. I got the first two days done in successive evenings at the peril of other deadlines and priorities, but then the rest of life just wouldn't be ignored anymore.

Work deadlines came home with me and overrode all other activities Wednesday night. The next night was dedicated to my last chance to dance at Grind for a while. Friday was swallowed whole with miscellaneous pre-surgery errands (half of which went unaccomplished). Yesterday I finally got some quality time with Russell, but half-way through the evening I got a "where-the-heck is the rest of your homework" email from Max. Max is a smart man, so that was really a rhetorical question. Intellectually he understood what was going on even before I told him, but that didn't change what a priority this project was for him. He's helping me make time to finish it up tonight, but that doesn't change the way my inner perfectionist feels about getting a "where-the-heck is it" email from my dominant. Surely it shouldn't be so hard to:

• prepare mentally and physically for surgery
• re-arrange the house for recovery
• prioritize the doing things that I will miss most during recovery (like walking in the woods and dancing at Grind)
• make quality time for Russell
• make quality time for Kaylee
• make more quality time for Max
• make quality time for my bio-family
• purchase all the weird little things I'll need for recovery
• clean the house
• make it to doctors' appointments
• keep my long-distance friends updated about life
• meet my work deadlines
• prepare my office and job to turn over to my (seriously overworked) supervisor for 6 weeks or more
• and write a standard detailed narrative of an awesome weekend

all before Wednesday morning. I mean, it's not like I didn't see this date coming for more than 3 months!

"Unrealistic" you say? "Ask for help" you say? Well yes, I agree on both accounts in principle, but sometimes I need to let my inner perfectionist throw a GradeA hissy fit before I can really put her back in the corner where she belongs. I'm wondering if part of all this list making is a subconscious attempt to force more time to appear between where I am and Wednesday morning. It's completely counter productive of course. I've talked many perfectionist/overachieving friends out of emotional trees by forcing them to tear up their to-do lists. It's a little more difficult to do that from the inside though.

Great Grind!

Yesterday I met my work deadline (well not to my perfectionist standards, but passably anyway) and felt a big weight off my shoulders. Which was good because last night I had A LOT of dancing to do. I love Grind and have missed it while dealing with the busy season at work and then getting wound up for the surgery.

Last night was the last Thursday before surgery so I was quite determined to make the most of it. The long absence coupled with the long day at work meant taking a little longer to transition from work to club-wear. I wasn't all that late, but late enough that I missed out on the warm-up music. I walked in the door and made a B-line for the dance floor without pausing to realize that my body has been pretty sedentary this week and might benefit from a wee little bit of stretching. But the DJ is a sadistic man and was playing some of my favorite fast-tempo music so what was I to do? (My sore legs and feet have several suggestions for me today)

Many of my friends made it out for some portion of the night and danced with me or gave me good luck squeezes between songs. During one of the quieter DJ phases, one friend even made some time to guide some spiritual healing work in preparation for all of this.

When the event ended, some of my up-all-night friends stayed to help Kaylee, Russell, and I capture some video of me dancing. Who knows, there might even be something fun for you two watch while you're waiting for surgery reports next week.

The schedule takes another hit.

First of all, thank you everyone who took the time to comment on the last post.

As things get closer, I'm feeling less inspired to reflect and more information-oriented so here ya go:
I had a lovely weekend away.
I woke up this morning with a UTI (connect the dots there any way you like)
After much fussing and fretting, we've established that the infection will clear up in three days or so and I will be able to have the surgery even though I will have missed donating a second unit of blood.

Now I have those approaching work deadlines to deal with so I'll probably not be back here until Thursday night or Friday. (Maybe I'll have more yummy pictures to share though)

Micro-update and Question List

I came down with a nasty little virus mid-day Thursday and I'm only just coming back up. That means that my blood donation schedule is off now. Oh well, the best laid plans...

Here's an interactive bit:
I'm starting to compile a list of the various things I want to ask my surgeon and his nurse less than 24 hours before surgery. I'll keep a running list on this post. If you have a question you think I should add to the list, drop me a comment. I need help with this people. I'm pretty damn good at gathering information indirectly through intuition and synthesis, but asking direct questions is not my strong suit.

The question list:

• How long do they expect I'll be in which parts of the hospital? (Surgery, ICU/Recovery, Patient room)
  
• Will I see the surgeon before surgery? How soon after will he check in?
  
• What are the policies around electronics in patient rooms? (iPod? Laptop? Wireless access?)
• At what point will the first people come see me after surgery?
• How do updates of my surgery progress get to family members? (Should they all hang out there all day? Should they rotate through, but keep someone there all day? Is there some pager system in case they all wander off?)
• Who do I need to tell about my picky diet stuff? How much space is there for making accommodations?
• Will there be more digital x-rays or other images I can have access to?
• What items should I bring with or specifically leave home? (I have several lists, but I want to cross reference with what the nurse says on this one.)
  

Praise be to the merciful Red Tape gods

They are sadistic fuckers, but in the end they came out on my side so I guess that's alright. I've been toodeling about making appointments getting ready for 10/1. Yesterday was full of a little more generalized panic than usual, but all in all I'm fairing pretty well. Then this afternoon my phone rings at work...

It's the business office for my orthopedic group. They're calling to let me know that my insurance company is not going to cover my costs the way they should because I don't have a direct referral on file. WHAT?!! I've been seeing this Dr for more than a year and now they bring that up?

After making a small scene in my office and several confused and frantic phone calls to my primary care Dr's office, there was nothing more I could do but wait. I'm used to waiting days and even weeks for things to work out. Today, it was about an hour before I got a call back. For reasons the office administrator didn't fully understand, all the referrals I needed were applied retroactively no questions asked.

Health care in this country is really weird.

Are you ok talking about this?

"Are you ok talking about this?" Several friends asked me this question last night. Almost apologetically, they ask for the details of my surgery and recovery. They are curious but don't want to overstep or stir-up more anxiety. "Hell, I blog about this stuff…" I reply in an almost dismissive tone. It occurs to me to ask if they are ok listening to me talk about this. I watch the way I rattle off the median statistics for a healthy adult's progression through surgery and recovery. Am I presenting as too detached? I certainly am anxious, but talking about it or not talking about it doesn't seem to make much difference.

The funny thing is most of these friends have just returned from Burning Man. While the two experiences don't directly compare the way we tell stories about them is remarkably similar. The month before the event, we simply can't avoid talking about it: when do you leave? what are you doing to get ready? do you have enough help? what are you expecting? what are the risks? how long are you going to be gone? why in the hell do you think this is a good idea again? Then we're gone, incommunicado, for about a week. We try to document the experience while its happening, but we know there's really not any way to convey this experience to people who aren't there with you. We come back, dazed and a little incapacitated for a while but full of stories to tell about hardships and triumphs and ridiculously stupid things we did. The big difference here… I don't plan to start this game up again next year.

Lately I'm trying to be more aware of the kinds of stories I'm telling about my future. I don't want to set up unreasonable expectations, but also want to avoid giving too much voice and energy to the worst-case scenarios. It's a surprisingly delicate line to walk. It's not going to happen, but what if it does? How do I stay optimistic and centered while still preparing for the worst? It's not necessary to ask "What could possibly go wrong?" so often. (Anyone who watches Joss Wheadon television knows that's a HORRIBLE question to start an episode.) The thing about story telling is when those questions get asked, the universe feels compelled to answer them clearly. I guess the best thing I can do is speak to the giant pile of resources and circumstances I already have lined up in my favor.
These are the stories I want to spend the most time telling over the next couple weeks:

• Russell, Kaylee, Max, my parents, my coworkers, and a wealth of extended chosen family are all standing strong beside me.
• I have a fantastic lead surgeon with a spectacular assistant surgeon all part of one of the area's premier orthopedic groups.
• I'll be having the surgery at a new hospital purpose-built for orthopedics.
• My body is young and healthy.
• The hospital is close to home (as in a matter of blocks) so even recovery check-up visits will be easier than many people have it.
• There are two remarkably comfortable beds in my home.
• I have a laptop and wireless internet so I don't have to feel so isolated.
• I have a fantastic health-plan and work for an incredibly supportive organization.
• I am generally self-aware and practiced at spotting unhealthy patterns and asking for the help I need to correct them.
• My partners have partners to lean on and places to go when things are challenging at home.
• While I still don't like or seek out pain, I have a much better understanding of how to process it than I would have 10 years ago.
• Most of all though, I know I am loved; that right there is going to make all the difference in the world.

It started

Apparently, the threshold for surgery worries invading my dreams has finally been crossed. The most stressful part of last night's dream was the large number of school-aged children (relatives of some sort) roaming about needing attention and reassurance. Well, that and my inability to figure out how to get into the crocheted afghan/sleeping bag on my gurney or whether to lie face up or face down. I think Russell needs a bigger blanket on his new bed. :)

I'm quickly reaching the point where there's noting left to do but watch the surgery date approach like a freight train. I've been coping these last couple weeks (and this weekend) by busying myself with schedules and to-do lists, but those are both running out of space pretty quickly. My conscious awareness may be finding these kinds of activities helpful, but the sub-conscious mind in charge of body functions is not fooled. It's already calling for preparations. While I haven't significantly changed my eating or activity habits, I'm storing more fat and gaining weight. My body temp, which usually runs at a cool 97.9, has been slowly but steadily increasing over the last week. It was at 99.0 when I went in to donate blood yesterday although I'm not feeling particularly ill. I'm trying to pace myself, have some quiet time, stop fixating. I think I'm going to need more reminders and external support on this goal next week. Fortunately, I have a community of friends and family capable of doing just that.

April 08 X-rays

Today was the day of getting little stuff done. In addition to basic domestic duties, I started yet another small health-insurance battle, completed a pre-admission form for the hospital, scheduled my pre-surgery haircut for tomorrow, rescheduled the trip to the fair previously planned for tomorrow, successfully donated a unit of blood, scheduled the final office visit with my surgeon, and picked up the digital x-rays from my April visit to Dr. Wagner at UW.

You may note the x-ray in the sidebar has changed. With much thanks to Russell who just happened to have magic software for reading medical image files, that's actually me over there now. The curves appear to be going the opposite direction of the original, but that's because they were showing them from the back instead of the front.

I've gone ahead and posted these under a link in case someone is feeling squeamish about pictures of bones today: Here is a very reduced version of my full length x-ray and a slightly closer view of just the torso (this is the same as the one in the side bar, only large enough for you to see).

Gratitudes!

Time to toss out a list of things I'm really grateful for (in stream of consciousness order):

• Making it through the one-month count-down mark without panicking.
• Finding the exact shoes I'd searched 4 Target stores to find at Value Village... in good shape, on 50% off everything day.
• Piles and piles of quality moments with Russell.
  
• I'm extra super grateful for Russell in general.
• Taking Paige and Russell to visit my mom in my home town and spontaneously getting to introduce them to some of my old-school extended family (My mom took care of her in college, she babysat me, I babysat her daughter--who graduated college recently GAWD I'M OLD, and every year we still take cookies to their house at Christmas)
• Supportive--if sometimes a little stress inducing--comments from my coworkers.
• Having a seriously relaxed couple days at work recovering from the busy season.
• Easy on-line booking systems for the only nice campground I know about (yes, I know, some tree-hugger I am... but I like to visit trees, not take up residence with them)
  
• Spready Cheese on crackers (Russell who brings them to me)
  
• The guy at Quiznos who always gives me the discount price even though I order the wrong ingredients on my sandwich.
• Aleive that knocks out my cramps.
• Happy news from a redhead about to start school at Mt. Holyoke
  
• Paigelett now has extra time in her schedule
• Friends and Family (including Paige, Russell, and Max) who make time in their schedules to be with me even when they don't really have it.
• A mid-day massage appointment.
• The brand new extra comfy bed in Russell's bedroom (even if it isn't the one I'm sleeping on tonight)
• Having my own blog to occasionally fill with a pile of random happiness

More topic oriented content coming soon... probably.

All This and Better Please

Posted to LJ on: Apr. 18th, 2008 at 4:21 PM

A lovely and wise friend reminded me to let spirit in on this whole support structure thing. As such I'm going to list some of the best possible outcomes of this surgery so we can keep them in focus and help them happen.

• Countless opportunities to appreciate the humor, strength, generosity, kindness and love of my amazing family and friends
• Amazement in the human mind and body's ability to heal and adapt
• Moments of pride for excelling at tasks once thought too hard to attempt
• Fast and clean healing of the tissue on my back
• A stable and healthy spine
• Commitment to continuing to take care of my body
• A surplus of financial resources to meet my obligations
• A surgery and recovery that goes smoother than anyone could reasonably predict