Lessons of the Heart, Part 6: Surgery and On-Going Recovery

 

Lessons of the Heart, Part 6:  Surgery and On-Going Recovery

April 25.  This is the first day I was able to find a way to sit at the computer due the fact that my body has been retaining water and I am supposed to keep my legs elevated as much as possible.  So much has happened since the last post, it is hard to know where to start.  It seems best to write this as a chronology of major events accompanied by explanation of the practices I used (not always successfully!).

April 26 and 27, the night before, and day of surgery.  I didn’t put any pressure on myself to sleep.  I just said to myself,  “You can lay here and rest and breathe in a relaxed way.”  To my surprise, I fell asleep fairly quickly and slept for three and a half hours.  I woke up at 1:30 am and went back to resting and breathing in a relaxed way  I talked a little to my heart saying “We’re going to get you some help, my friend.  We’re going to get you healed.”  I got up at 3 a.m. and felt surprisingly calm, very alert, and also slightly keyed up.  I arrived at the hospital at 5:30 am, and went through almost 2 hours of pre-surgery prep.  Surgery was scheduled to begin at 7:30.  As we got to about 10-15 minutes before surgery I could feel my fear and anxiety level starting to creep up.  When I told this to the anesthesiologist, he offered me a mild sedative and I said “yes.”  I recognized that I did not want to rely solely on my meditation practice for this last stretch of time before surgery. 

                I remember being wheeled into the operating room and laying on my back looking at 3 very large and bright banks of light.  I had no sensation of time having passed when I  opened my eyes in the intensive care unit some 6 to 8 hours later.

April 27, afternoon and evening of surgery.   I awoke in the intensive care unit surrounded by people and with a ¾ inch diameter breathing (ventilator) tube inserted deep into my airway.  Every single cell in my body rebelled against the presence of the tube and the rebellion was primal.  The end of the tube was causing a stabbing pain in my throat.  I felt like I was choking.  I felt like I was drowning.  When you are under water and drowning, the ONLY thing that matters to you is to get to the surface and breathe.  My mind knew that the tube needed to stay there, but my body surged up on its own and tried to move the tube a half inch so that it wouldn’t cause so much pain. I wasn’t able to use my meditation practice of opening to what I was feeling and just sit with it.

                Of course, everyone in the room became immediately extremely agitated and yelled “You CANNOT take that tube out!!!”  I  wanted to tell them that I only wanted to adjust the tube’s position, but with the tube in my airway and mouth I could not get out a single word, and nobody thought to ask me the yes/no questions that would enable me to respond by nodding or shaking my head. 

                I don’t know what happened next.  Maybe they gave me a strong sedative.  I have no memory of the breathing tube being removed, but it was gone when I woke up and apparently was removed a few hours later while I was unconscious.

Later that same day I realized that I knew absolutely and with immediacy that I had my mind, emotions, memories, and knowledge intact and without brain damage.  I silently expressed my gratitude to my surgeon, the heart team, and the universe.

April 9 and 25. I began noticing a tendency to live in the future:  “When such-and such happens, then life will be good/enjoyable/okay again.”  “Such-and such “ was things like :  when I can sleep on my side, I’m out of the hospital, reach the point of being 2 weeks post-surgery, get off of all these pills, my neck doesn’t hurt and I can sleep better, etc.  Each time when this happens, I remind myself to surrender to the fact that I don’t control the pace of my healing.  I remind myself that when I live in the future this way, I lose the value of fully living this moment right now.  At the same time, I realize that I have faith in the future and in my ability to heal:  that the work that I am doing now will make a positive impact on my healing, and that the existence of my faith will also help me to heal.

                During my time of recovery, many medical people who were attending to me told me that everything in my recovery was going very well.  But I discovered that ”things going well”  contained two perspectives.  (1) Things really were going well medically. (2)  But from the perspective of my own personal experience, I consistently felt like crap and things were not going well.   

                I found that It helped me to remind myself that the most important aspect of my situation were good:  I didn't die during surgery, all of my heart issues got fixed, I didn't get brain damage from
having my heart stopped and going on the heart/lung machine, I didn't have a stroke afterwards (blood clots), and there was no infection at all.  After bringing all of that to mind, everything I might want to complain about—trouble sleeping, fatigue, food having little taste--seemed trivial by comparison!  I became more grateful.

April 24.  Today is the 4 week anniversary of my surgery. I'm doing pretty well:  gaining in strength and mobility little by little.  The doctors said prior to surgery that recovery from this kind of surgery would be
tough and long (3 to 6 months)--and they were right! 

 

Note:   My intention is to add new posts to the blog approximately every 7 to 14 days. If you would like to receive an e-mail notification each time a new blog post is made, please let me know and I will add you to the list of recipients. This notification will also include the title of the new post.  Some of the material that appears in this blog is copyrighted, but in keeping with the Buddha’s teaching that the dharma is not to be sold, the contents of this blog may be freely copied and given away, but not sold.