Well, I know it has been a while since I last blogged, something came up. I was diagnosed with a disc protrusion problem in my spine which caused left-sided sciatica. I needed the disc matter removed from my spine so that it did not block a nerve that ran down my left leg (causing unprecedented amounts of pain and lack of mobility). I had my surgery on May 14th at Vancouver General Hospital and am pleased to let you know that I am on the road to recovery. Regardless, it will still be a long time before I can watch an abdominal exercise commercial without cringing or tearing up!
I thought of blogging all my experiences, mostly so that I won't forget and many, many years from now, I can look at them and laugh. As all of you know, my blogs are purposefully funny and entertaining and I have done my best to make the most of even the bleakest situations so the next series of my blog entries is dedicated to my condition and recovery. My sincerest hope is that you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed observing and writing about my experiences.
And as a tie-in to my previous weight-loss blogs, I hope that the brand new Sonia Nanwani (or "Gimpy" as I am so affectionately called given my reliance on my walking stick :) with some less L5-S1 disc matter post-surgery would be a couple of pounds lighter. Hee hee!
Darn, who am I kidding....I got rid of some light disc matter not an entire butt cheek! *lol*
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Where Can A Girl Get Some Veggie Food?
As everyone who knows me know I am a vegetarian. (People who know me better know that I’m not too fond of vegetables, but I digress!) So, one of the most pertinent things pre-surgery was to ensure that I was booked for vegetarian meals during my hospital stay at VGH. When my appointment was booked with my surgeon’s assistant two weeks prior to the surgery date, I asked her if she could reserve a vegetarian meal for me. She politely said that it would be the actually staff of VGH who would be able to help.
Four days prior to my surgery, I was “interviewed” over the phone with pre-surgery questions (regarding my allergies, health history, etc) and I asked the interviewer if I could request my special meal with her. She said I needed to speak to someone on the day of my surgery.
On the day of my surgery, I was asked to report to the Admitting Department at the Jim Pattison South Pavilion. Upon arrival and submitting all my information, the staff member asked me “What religion do you belong to?” I beamed. Finally. He is going to take down my meal preference. I proudly said “Hindu”. It felt like checking in at ticketing counter at the airport and I was stating my meal and seat preference. The tag around my arm with my name and care card information felt like my personal boarding pass. Nice!
So, fast-forward to post-surgery. I’m starving and thirsty because I’ve not eaten anything since the night before. I await my meal. It finally arrives and lo behold, I am served fish. I’m like “Dude, I’m Hindu and vegetarian”. The meal server (for lack of a better word) shrugs and says, “All I have is fish!” I then turned to a friend and asked, “Why did they ask me upfront if I was Hindu if they didn’t translate it to my meal choice? The reply was not one I expected.
She said “They ask you your religion so that they know who to call in the event that they need to perform your final rites”.
Gulp.
Thank god I didn’t clue into this pre-surgery. Well, I guess it’s good to know that even though VGH cannot get the meal information right, they will be able to get the final rites down pat. But then again, what good does it to me anyways? I still would be hungry either way!?!?
Four days prior to my surgery, I was “interviewed” over the phone with pre-surgery questions (regarding my allergies, health history, etc) and I asked the interviewer if I could request my special meal with her. She said I needed to speak to someone on the day of my surgery.
On the day of my surgery, I was asked to report to the Admitting Department at the Jim Pattison South Pavilion. Upon arrival and submitting all my information, the staff member asked me “What religion do you belong to?” I beamed. Finally. He is going to take down my meal preference. I proudly said “Hindu”. It felt like checking in at ticketing counter at the airport and I was stating my meal and seat preference. The tag around my arm with my name and care card information felt like my personal boarding pass. Nice!
So, fast-forward to post-surgery. I’m starving and thirsty because I’ve not eaten anything since the night before. I await my meal. It finally arrives and lo behold, I am served fish. I’m like “Dude, I’m Hindu and vegetarian”. The meal server (for lack of a better word) shrugs and says, “All I have is fish!” I then turned to a friend and asked, “Why did they ask me upfront if I was Hindu if they didn’t translate it to my meal choice? The reply was not one I expected.
She said “They ask you your religion so that they know who to call in the event that they need to perform your final rites”.
Gulp.
Thank god I didn’t clue into this pre-surgery. Well, I guess it’s good to know that even though VGH cannot get the meal information right, they will be able to get the final rites down pat. But then again, what good does it to me anyways? I still would be hungry either way!?!?
Don't Poke Me with Your Big Needle!
So, in addition to everything else I suffer from intense needle phobia. Good for my parents, I will never consider being a drug addict :) But in all seriousness, I regress to a 2 year old when it comes to being poked and prodded. I cry, kick and scream, create a fuss, bargain, sometimes threaten...very un-Sonia-like. But I guess that is what fear does to one. So, in my pre-surgery interview I mentioned that I had needle-phobia and the nurse noted it down on my chart. On the day of my surgery, I was admitted to the pre-operative department where I was “set up” for my surgery: IV with saline and a series of blood tests was performed on me.
I don’t know about you, but blood testing really scares me. And the nurse who was given the royal task was not helpful at all. I was already upset with the IV in my left arm when she came by. She looked at my chart and started assembling the vials that will need to be filled up. These vials are colour-coded (each probably bearing a different test). And I was alarmed when the nurse picked two blue vials, two yellow, two pink, one green....and I looked away at that point. I was like “Dude, are you drawing blood for testing or shopping on rollback pricing at Walmart?” Was she the Princess of Darkness taking my blood for another series of shooters on the movie set of True Blood. I’m usually really good at sucking it up, but I was distraught.
Then I timidly asked her, will it hurt? I think she laughed and there was a lightening flash followed by several claps of thunder. I think she was wearing a black cape too. She put a “butterfly” (or something like that) so that she could use the same line to fill the millions of vials she had instead of poking me over and over again. I closed my eyes. Do it quickly. Do it quickly. Do it quickly. The butterfly was hurting. Then the Duchess of Doom decides, let us verify my name and other information. I was so tempted to say “Yo, Queen of Things that Go Bump in the Night, can you do this AFTER drawing out my blood? You’re not guzzling gas or sucking Pepsi through a straw where you can take your time! This really hurts!!!”
After what seems like an eternity, the butterfly is out and she walks away satisfied. I guess I did my part for the cast of Twilight. I’m pretty darn sure ALL that blood did not go towards “testing”. :(
I don’t know about you, but blood testing really scares me. And the nurse who was given the royal task was not helpful at all. I was already upset with the IV in my left arm when she came by. She looked at my chart and started assembling the vials that will need to be filled up. These vials are colour-coded (each probably bearing a different test). And I was alarmed when the nurse picked two blue vials, two yellow, two pink, one green....and I looked away at that point. I was like “Dude, are you drawing blood for testing or shopping on rollback pricing at Walmart?” Was she the Princess of Darkness taking my blood for another series of shooters on the movie set of True Blood. I’m usually really good at sucking it up, but I was distraught.
Then I timidly asked her, will it hurt? I think she laughed and there was a lightening flash followed by several claps of thunder. I think she was wearing a black cape too. She put a “butterfly” (or something like that) so that she could use the same line to fill the millions of vials she had instead of poking me over and over again. I closed my eyes. Do it quickly. Do it quickly. Do it quickly. The butterfly was hurting. Then the Duchess of Doom decides, let us verify my name and other information. I was so tempted to say “Yo, Queen of Things that Go Bump in the Night, can you do this AFTER drawing out my blood? You’re not guzzling gas or sucking Pepsi through a straw where you can take your time! This really hurts!!!”
After what seems like an eternity, the butterfly is out and she walks away satisfied. I guess I did my part for the cast of Twilight. I’m pretty darn sure ALL that blood did not go towards “testing”. :(
Time to Sleep!
So, after being prepped in the pre-operative department of VGH, I was wheeled into to operation theatre and met team of 3 nurses, 3 surgeons and 1 anaesthesiologist. They were extremely pleasant and introduced themselves to me. You wouldn’t think I was getting operated on but attending someone’s dinner party. That is because I saw them UNWRAP THE SILVERWARE in front of me! I was like “Dude, I find this whole meet and greet process charming, but I really think you forgot to put me to sleep or something. Should I be seeing all this?” Oliver, my anaesthesiologist smiles and says, “Ooops a daisy! Ms. Nanwani, I am about to administer something that will make you sleep and forget the entire procedure”.
Much better. So much better.
Oh yea, I told him. Before I forget, I’m in here for plastic surgery job. I’m supposed to look like Angelia Jolie. He laughs and I think the last words he said were“You wish”.
Hey, a girl can try *lol*
Much better. So much better.
Oh yea, I told him. Before I forget, I’m in here for plastic surgery job. I’m supposed to look like Angelia Jolie. He laughs and I think the last words he said were“You wish”.
Hey, a girl can try *lol*
Hey, I Remember You!
So, I wake up post surgery and am greeted by the team of surgeons who worked on me. Unfortunately, I still look like me and not Angelina :) Anyways, one of the surgeons asks me how I am feeling and if I can remember what day it is.
I turned to him and said “I feel great and this is the best day of my life!” Then I continued “And hey, I remember you...before I blanked out in there, I remember you and the chainsaw in your hands!” *lol* I thought I would make him laugh. But there was no inkling of a smile on his face. In fact, he said “Ms. Nanwani, that observation was incorrect. As per the hospital procedures, a chainsaw is not considered an instrument of medicine. And given that we performed a discectomy on you, there is no instrument even resembling a chain saw that was used during your surgery”.
What do you say to a response like that? Of course there was a chainsaw, but I think it was up your......
I think I have watched too many medical drams with cute doctors with a great sense of humour: ER, Grey’s Anatomy, Scrubs, etc. Sorry gals, not all doctors are like McDreamy or McSteamy...*sigh*
I turned to him and said “I feel great and this is the best day of my life!” Then I continued “And hey, I remember you...before I blanked out in there, I remember you and the chainsaw in your hands!” *lol* I thought I would make him laugh. But there was no inkling of a smile on his face. In fact, he said “Ms. Nanwani, that observation was incorrect. As per the hospital procedures, a chainsaw is not considered an instrument of medicine. And given that we performed a discectomy on you, there is no instrument even resembling a chain saw that was used during your surgery”.
What do you say to a response like that? Of course there was a chainsaw, but I think it was up your......
I think I have watched too many medical drams with cute doctors with a great sense of humour: ER, Grey’s Anatomy, Scrubs, etc. Sorry gals, not all doctors are like McDreamy or McSteamy...*sigh*
What Is This? Air India?
So...I think I mentioned that I likened my whole hospital experience akin to checking in at the airport to catch a flight. Meals, Seats/Rooms, ID Tags/Boarding Passes.....so why should the luggage situation be any different? At the pre-operative room, I was given the option of leaving my luggage in my “cubical with a curtain” and it was promised to be transported directly to my room post-surgery.
Post Surgery – I’m in a shared-room sans luggage. It was a lot of effort to speak given my throat was sore after the breathing tube was removed. But I tried to ask for my luggage and was told that it was “temporarily unavailable”. What does that mean? How does a hospital lose luggage?
Thankfully I had my best friend to do the legwork for me to find the luggage. He looked in the pre-operative room, and all the other floors and wards where neurosurgery patients were taken till he finally found it. I was so ecstatic to see my purple Lululemon podium bag with the most precious of all contents – toilet paper. The stuff that is in the ward’s bathroom is NOT toilet paper. It’s made out of sandpaper for people who enjoy exfoliating their bottoms! And real toilet paper is like a precious commodity in a hospital. Kinda like cigarettes are in prison. They can be bartered for food, protection and drugs. So I made sure I packed lots and asked all visitors to give me toilet paper in lieu of flowers, chocolates and other gifts :)
It can get annoying sometimes though – especially when you are resting and someone sidles by your bed begging for “the good stuff” in exchange for anything. Dude, where were you when the Bride of Dracula was pumping my blood like cheap gas from the US?
Post Surgery – I’m in a shared-room sans luggage. It was a lot of effort to speak given my throat was sore after the breathing tube was removed. But I tried to ask for my luggage and was told that it was “temporarily unavailable”. What does that mean? How does a hospital lose luggage?
Thankfully I had my best friend to do the legwork for me to find the luggage. He looked in the pre-operative room, and all the other floors and wards where neurosurgery patients were taken till he finally found it. I was so ecstatic to see my purple Lululemon podium bag with the most precious of all contents – toilet paper. The stuff that is in the ward’s bathroom is NOT toilet paper. It’s made out of sandpaper for people who enjoy exfoliating their bottoms! And real toilet paper is like a precious commodity in a hospital. Kinda like cigarettes are in prison. They can be bartered for food, protection and drugs. So I made sure I packed lots and asked all visitors to give me toilet paper in lieu of flowers, chocolates and other gifts :)
It can get annoying sometimes though – especially when you are resting and someone sidles by your bed begging for “the good stuff” in exchange for anything. Dude, where were you when the Bride of Dracula was pumping my blood like cheap gas from the US?
If I Ran a Hospital...
Hospitals are busy places – and here are some tips they should give to patients before their surgical procedure, as an orientation of sorts, to make the patient’s stay easier :)
1. Explain what do the different coloured uniforms mean? I saw nurses in pink, green, blue and yellow. Do they refer to different types of nurses? Then tell the patient which one can prescribe the GOOD drugs? I want to be BFF with that one!
2. Allow the patient to put mini note on their door, curtain or at the of the their bed to let the nurse/doctor/food server know as to “Do not disturb” or “Disturb ONLY if you have good drugs” or “Wake when the food is good” :)
3. Encourage waxing before surgery. This is highly important but often overlooked. With the number of adhesives that will be put on and taken off pre, during and post surgery, it is highly recommended that, regardless of gender, the patient should consider waxing. This will greatly ease the process of adhesive removal (Who needs more pain? Seriously?)
4. Overlook the patient sneaking in their cell phone to make personal calls because installing a land line costs $3.25 per day. They’ll need those savings if they want a telly at $17 a day! (And trust me, this is not a rip off – the PARKADE folks at VGH have a PhD in Daylight Robbery)
5. Ensure patients bring a pad of paper and a pen and keep it on hand. Doctors believe in visiting bright and early (6.30am) and giving patients vital surgery, recovery and drug information while they are exhausted and on a heavy dosage of intravenous drugs. Ask the doctors to write everything down because, trust me, patients will have no recollection of the conversation later.
1. Explain what do the different coloured uniforms mean? I saw nurses in pink, green, blue and yellow. Do they refer to different types of nurses? Then tell the patient which one can prescribe the GOOD drugs? I want to be BFF with that one!
2. Allow the patient to put mini note on their door, curtain or at the of the their bed to let the nurse/doctor/food server know as to “Do not disturb” or “Disturb ONLY if you have good drugs” or “Wake when the food is good” :)
3. Encourage waxing before surgery. This is highly important but often overlooked. With the number of adhesives that will be put on and taken off pre, during and post surgery, it is highly recommended that, regardless of gender, the patient should consider waxing. This will greatly ease the process of adhesive removal (Who needs more pain? Seriously?)
4. Overlook the patient sneaking in their cell phone to make personal calls because installing a land line costs $3.25 per day. They’ll need those savings if they want a telly at $17 a day! (And trust me, this is not a rip off – the PARKADE folks at VGH have a PhD in Daylight Robbery)
5. Ensure patients bring a pad of paper and a pen and keep it on hand. Doctors believe in visiting bright and early (6.30am) and giving patients vital surgery, recovery and drug information while they are exhausted and on a heavy dosage of intravenous drugs. Ask the doctors to write everything down because, trust me, patients will have no recollection of the conversation later.
What Happens When the Lights Go Out?
So, I’m released from the hospital within 24 hours of surgery. Not sure why coz I was still not feeling well and drowsy. I was graciously invited to live with family friends post-surgery to recover so I was heading to their home. I arrived at 5pm and went to bed right away. It so happened that they were having a pre-scheduled dinner party on the same day I arrived, at 6pm. The dinner party was eventually underway while I napped and woke up only to take my meds. At 9pm, I was invited by one of the family members to have something to eat. I thought it would be a great opportunity to “practise” walking and stretch out my muscles so I opted to go to the kitchen where the dinner was. I was fine as I tried to mingle and eat my food (that was so thoughtfully mashed up and heated so that I could swallow it, given my sore throat). Did I mention how I love these people for their kindness?
So, here I am standing by the island and having just finished my meal. I turn to my host who asks me if I would like some chocolate mousse cake for dessert. At that exact moment I felt a wave of nausea overcome me. I thought I was going to need to go to the bathroom so I looked at my host and a lady guest and said “I’ve got to go now”...
And then I fainted.
All I recollect is the next morning when I was told the gory details. I passed out in the middle of the kitchen and my quick-thinking friends “caught” me so that I did not fall and tear my stitches. One of the guests summoned up the mean who were downstairs and it took two-able bodied family members to lift me (in all my glory) and put me back on my bed. There was contemplation of calling 911 as well.
Holy cow! How was I to know that between dinner and dessert at the party I would actually give everyone a show? I felt embarrassed as I have always prided myself as this tough cookie. Never did I think that I would experience a system shut-down. But the interesting part is that the embarrassment quickly turned to extreme humility and gratefulness.
Humility: I felt humbled when I realised that I am not “in control” as I often think. In fact, it is entirely a myth if I feel that I have an infinite power over everything that concerns me. The fact that my body failed me and that the past many months have been the most physically painful, made me realise that there is more to ME than my body. As a Hindu, I’ve always believed the concept of a soul but it is the first time I felt the distinct separation between my soul and my body. This experience has taught me that I am more than the sum of my visible parts. There will be times when I will have no control over my body, the pain it is subjected to and the pain that is inflicted on it – but my soul remains intact, serene and peaceful. In this journey of life, my body is simply a conduit. If I always remember this, than pain loses its relevance, doesn’t it? Deep eh?
Gratefulness: I felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the family that cared for me during my dark, painful moments. I cannot even count the number of tears they wiped, the number of times they held my hand when I was fearful and the number of times they taped together the broken fragments of my body. It was their healing hands and loving hearts that put me together, physically and emotionally. I read somewhere a long time ago that “one can easily judge the character of a person by the way they treat people who can do nothing for them” – and based on the way I was treated, I was humbled to meet people whose character traits I aspire to.
**This particular blog is dedicated to Kam, Sarb, Suki, Amrit and their mom :)**
So, here I am standing by the island and having just finished my meal. I turn to my host who asks me if I would like some chocolate mousse cake for dessert. At that exact moment I felt a wave of nausea overcome me. I thought I was going to need to go to the bathroom so I looked at my host and a lady guest and said “I’ve got to go now”...
And then I fainted.
All I recollect is the next morning when I was told the gory details. I passed out in the middle of the kitchen and my quick-thinking friends “caught” me so that I did not fall and tear my stitches. One of the guests summoned up the mean who were downstairs and it took two-able bodied family members to lift me (in all my glory) and put me back on my bed. There was contemplation of calling 911 as well.
Holy cow! How was I to know that between dinner and dessert at the party I would actually give everyone a show? I felt embarrassed as I have always prided myself as this tough cookie. Never did I think that I would experience a system shut-down. But the interesting part is that the embarrassment quickly turned to extreme humility and gratefulness.
Humility: I felt humbled when I realised that I am not “in control” as I often think. In fact, it is entirely a myth if I feel that I have an infinite power over everything that concerns me. The fact that my body failed me and that the past many months have been the most physically painful, made me realise that there is more to ME than my body. As a Hindu, I’ve always believed the concept of a soul but it is the first time I felt the distinct separation between my soul and my body. This experience has taught me that I am more than the sum of my visible parts. There will be times when I will have no control over my body, the pain it is subjected to and the pain that is inflicted on it – but my soul remains intact, serene and peaceful. In this journey of life, my body is simply a conduit. If I always remember this, than pain loses its relevance, doesn’t it? Deep eh?
Gratefulness: I felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the family that cared for me during my dark, painful moments. I cannot even count the number of tears they wiped, the number of times they held my hand when I was fearful and the number of times they taped together the broken fragments of my body. It was their healing hands and loving hearts that put me together, physically and emotionally. I read somewhere a long time ago that “one can easily judge the character of a person by the way they treat people who can do nothing for them” – and based on the way I was treated, I was humbled to meet people whose character traits I aspire to.
**This particular blog is dedicated to Kam, Sarb, Suki, Amrit and their mom :)**
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