I watched as the floor numbers flashed on the elevator screen. My stomach lurched as the elevator came to a stop. "Eighth floor, general, reconstructive, and plastic surgery," announced a robotic-sounding voice. I filed out alongside my mom and several others, making my way to the sign-in kiosk. It had been almost a year since I had been in the Johns Hopkins Outpatient Center and, while a few things had changed, it looked all too familiar. After checking in, I could feel my heart pounding as I looked down the long hallway labeled "GENERAL SURGERY." I had walked, limped, and been pushed in a wheelchair down that very hallway and I could not stop the memories from flooding in. After getting vitals, my mom and I were led to a tiny examination room among a quad of other rooms. The thin walls made it easy for voices to carry from room to room and I could hear my surgeon next door talking to another patient.
I was nervous. More nervous than I expected to be going into this appointment. Just a couple of weeks prior, I had an appointment with wound care at a local hospital to address the wound from my j-pouch removal surgery that has given me grief for almost two years. The appointment was filled with lots of tears and my wound care doctor urging me to return to my surgeon to talk about my next options. So, there I was, sitting in the spot that I had set many times before, awaiting an answer. The butterflies in my stomach felt more like tiny dragons as I wiggled nervously in my seat. Finally, almost 30 minutes past my origional appointment time, my surgeon emerged through the door. "You look great!" he exclaimed. My surgeon has followed along with my since the very beginnnig when I was only 72 pounds and could not even walk, so I can only imagine how proud he feels to see me much healthier than before, despite a few setbacks.
I explained my visits with wound care the last year to catch him up and then he examined my wound. "Okay..," he said. "Okay." My stomach twisted. I could tell that he was trying to find the right way to respond. After a few moments of silence, he discussed with us his next recommendation, the gracilis muscle flap surgery. In the surgery, the gracilis muscle is taken from the thigh and placed within the wound to help it close. He explained that he was afraid that if we simply went in a cleaned the wound out and sewed it back up that it would reopen yet again - because we have already tried that and it was unsucessful. I listen carefully as he explains the surgery and recovery time. I expected to feel more emotion, but in that moment I felt numb. I knew that I wanted to cry, but the tears felt paralyzed.
You would think that after three years and six surgeries that I would be used to this by now, but it never gets any easier. It is heavy. You feel a sense of helplessness, fear, confusion, and uncertainty, all wrapped up together. Obviously, I am doing my best to maintain an optimistic attitude and I am hopeful that this is the answer to an almost two-year battle with this wound, but there are moments when I simply have to let myself feel the emotions.
I will never have the right words to decribe the feeling, but facing tribulations like this has a way of grounding you. Suddenly, all of the little things that you are worrying about seem even smaller.
While the last week has been a lot to process, I wanted to take a moment to give a little update on the rest of my life. As many of you may know, I started a new, full-time job in January that I absolutely love. I truly could not ask for a better, more fitting job. With that came a move, which was stressful, but I am thankful for my home. In March, I adopted a new fur baby into my home: a chorkie puppy named Aspen. He is quite the personality, but has been such a wonderful addition to my home. The cats are even learning to love him (slowly). After years of hospital beds, doctor's appointments, and setbacks, it feels unreal to be where I am now. Despite the setbacks that I have faced and will face in the near future, I have worked so hard to continue to grow, flourish, and pursue my dreams. In June, I turned 25 (eeek!) and celebrated the day with my family.
My health outside of my wound has improved greatly. I have been walking, running, and working to grow stronger each day. With the help of DripDrop ORS, I have avoided the ER for fluids this entire year so far - which is amazing! I highly recommend DripDrop ORS to everyone as a great oral rehydration solution for the summer. My entire family has been using it as well and they swear by it.
The next month will be filled with many changes, but if there is one thing that I know, it is that I can handle whatever is thrown my way. I have come so far in this journey and proved to myself just how strong I truly can be, and I hope to continue that journey of self-growth. I will try to provide updates along the way.
Until next time,
Kristen