So this is a little embarrassing, but I messed up the timing a little bit in my last post. I removed the last paragraph of the last one. Forget what I said about heading towards February... I got the timing of the gall bladder surgery wrong! It's embarrassing when you have so many surgeries that you get them mixed around. Oops!
So I went into the new year quite happily! My school schedule wasn't too challenging, I was learning about how to make robots take over the world, and I was heading back and forth to Hanna every other weekend. I figured out that not only does lengthy highway driving put a lot of strain on my joints, Hanna in general puts a lot of strain on my migraines. But I decided it was okay, because I was pretty into this guy, so I'd just live with it. So, zoom zoom. School was pretty fantastic, I was in a lot of art classes, and I was starting to get grades that were high enough that I was thinking of going to grad school in a few years after University. I was still taking a few group things at the pain clinic and I was doing one on one stuff with my doctor now, and they were helping in ways I'd never dreamed! So my first semester of my first year motored on quite smoothly, and I hit summer pretty quickly. And summer is where everything blew up.
I started out by seeing my gall bladder surgeon. He told me that I did indeed have stones, and it was likely from the steroids I had from the brain surgery. My daily attacks would likely be cured by a gall bladder removal, he said, so we should definitely take it out. Then he drew a little picture for me on the bed that looked like a smiley face. I said "okay." So I walked out and texted my parents, saying "woot, surgery number 5." Someday we hope to remove the sarcastic bone in my body, but that wouldn't be this surgery. I now had a solid date to take this baby out of me! I was pumped! I told them to put me in line to get the surgery, and if it came up before I got my call for my shoulder, then I'd get this. Sounds perfect! Right? I mean, I'd been waiting so long for my shoulder and I hadn't got my call, so why would I get it now?
Of course, when you're thinking something won't happen, it happens.
So a little while later, in the summer of 2012, I got my call. I was so excited. They told me that a shoulder became available and that I should get prepared. They said there was still more tests to do on it and they would tell me in a week if it was good, but I should be ready to get surgery within a month. I can't even explain how I felt. I called my parents, then I called my brother, and we were all just ecstatic. I got everything ready for work so they'd know I was away. I was ready. I couldn't have been more ready. And when they didn't call after a week I started telling myself it just meant good news, that they'd forgotten to call because they were busy getting it ready for surgery. My parents weren't so optimistic. They started telling me to not be too excited. There would be another time. I shouldn't be heartbroken if it didn't work out this time
I already was.
They called a week and a half after that first call, and told me the bone didn't pass it's tests. I was sitting at the top of my stairs, and all I could say was "okay. Thank you." I cried for a long, long time. It wasn't just me that didn't get a donor that day, it was a lot of people. I'm sure all of us were crushed. I understand the process, but it was like they handed me the world and then said "oops, that's not good enough for you, sorry. No replacements." Eventually I called Mom and told her. She could tell how terrible I felt, and she felt terrible for me. Poor Mom. She's really always been the cushion I fall on, every time.
Over the next month or so, I took some time to just calm down from the whole thing. I still had this gall bladder to look forward too (right? That's what you do for surgery, right? Look forward to it?) so I couldn't be totally dismayed.
At the end of July, something extremely unexpected happened... I got another call! I went through the whole cycle again, calling everyone, being excited. After waiting so long for the first call, what were the odds that the second call would happen after only a month? I got everything ready, and I was optimistic. For some reason I just felt that this time, it was going to work out. I have bad luck, but I don't have THAT much bad luck. Mom was cautious like a deer in front of all the headlights in the world. She said she just didn't want to see me hurt again. I totally got that, but I just didn't want to be scared and hurt anymore. We started looking through the obituaries and watching the news to see if we could maybe find who it was that my graft came from. For bone grafts, the donor could only be in Southern Alberta, which is why it's so important to sign your donor card. We think we found her, because (assuming she was from Calgary) there could really only be one person that could have been a donor for me. The situation of the woman that we found was eerie in a way that made even Mom think it was maybe meant to be.
A week later, I got the second call. It was a go! I was to get the surgery August 28th. Both my regular shoulder surgeon and the surgeon in charge of the graft clinic was to do the surgery. I was ready! I put only healthy things into my body for the next few weeks. The Chronic Pain Center told me that they would assist for pain control after the surgery. I called my gall bladder surgeon and told him that I'd have to hold off for a bit. There was really nothing that could go wrong! I should stop thinking those words!
No matter how prepared I thought I was, I wasn't prepared. But I was definitely ready to have my shoulder stop dislocating and have my life back in order. All I could think was: bring it on!
