The Post Surgery Letdown

Your surgeon will always promise the best outcome. And sometimes, when they're predicting your outcome, they exaggerate. Mine promised that my body would only take six weeks, and then I would be
able to eat as much roughage as I want, and be as active as I want.

A piece I studied in music, called "The Gallbladder Operation", tries to depict surgery for those who have never experienced it. The piece was written before IVs, or painkillers, when people would be held down during an operation until they were in too much pain to think about running away. Even if we aren't tying people down anymore, anyone who has ever been in this position knows that the same uncertainty still exists. By agreeing to be operated on, you are placing your life in someone else's hands. And if you are going to be put to sleep, you not only have no control over your body, but you cannot see what's happening to it. Sensational stories in the news about patients having the wrong organ removed don't help the situation.

If you have enough energy to think, these possibilities probably circle around your head, and hit you full on when you sign the release. You do it anyway, because you know that this is your last option. But you do not want to give up control, so you keep your eyes open until you can't see straight.

The battle does not end when you go to sleep. It does not end when the operation's over. And it certainly does not end after six weeks. It's continues as long as you do. The test comes, not on the days that you feel as though nobody's ever manipulated your body, but on the days where you have an extra ache in your shoulder, a headache, or a stomach ache.

In my first college semester, I took twelve credits. When my classes were over, I used to sit in Klapper Hall, wondering where I'd get the energy to finish any of my schoolwork. I cried. Now, you'd be hard-pressed to see me without a smile. If I attributed my newfound happiness to my perfect health, I would be lying. My body is not the same as it was before I was ever operated on. If I'm out in the heat too long, if I overeat, or even if I overexercise, I pay the price the next day. There are many imperfect days. But for every imperfect day, I have four perfect ones. And I'll take that over the alternative any day.