What My Latest Spine Fusion Surgery Means To Me

I woke up slowly after surgery last week (abt 1 1/2 weeks now, taking me awhile to write/post). I seem to have a little trouble coming out of anesthesia each time. I am missing two days this time.

Real Events

Between the time the nurse put the anti-nausea patch behind my ear to when my memory no longer moved along in fragments, I remember the following events:

  • Trying to loose my arms from long Velcro bindings while trying to sit up against the pain I was having in my neck and arms
  • Someone telling someone else, “she is very strong”, “she is very strong”
  • Someone lifting one of my legs and asking me to push or pull or do something with it – I couldn’t, judging from the lack of movement in my leg
  • Two people asking me the same questions, over and over again
  • Me asking the two over and over, why they kept asking me the same questions over and over again
  • Me trying to figure out how long it had been since surgery, while trying to answer the repeat questions
  • The very moment the breathing tube left my throat
  • The ICU nurse who knows where Rice Lake, WI, is
  • PT David at the hospital is not the same PT David where I went for PT for months after my first surgery

My Recurring Dreams

I have recurring dreams. Since I was very young, I’ve had recurring dreams. Sometimes the recurring dream follows the same path as its previous instance. But more often, especially nowadays, my dreams advance.

I have had recurring dreams during this hospital stay. They seem to have spun out of the sequence of dreams I had from my first back surgery. I will call this the “Tiki God” ritual recurring dream-set. From both hospital stays, the base events of these dreams are:

  • trying to spit out the plastic drugs, how bad they tasted.
  • the Indian doctor being in the dream and talking to me.
  • the pontoon and the silver lake, and the really bad part of the land I was in – I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to leave – of which now I cannot seem to recall its details from either the first time I was there, or this last time.
  • Just a glimpse in my mind while typing this – filling up on whatever the vehicle fuel was, everything was so white. This was somewhere near the mass transit place, and everyone being in white or dirty-white “space suits”.
  • at the mass-transit place, people were lined up and moved onto/into the vehicles like they do at Disney World roller coaster rides, for example.

My Recurring Dream, continued

Somewhere, sometime after surgery, I started dreaming. I have experienced parts of these dreams months before. Such as quite possibly from my previous surgery at this same hospital.

I was once again weaving in and out of a world near a silver lake, including the following:

  • buying plastic rectangle drugs – see-through, sparkly, or having designs on them
  • vomiting or trying to spit out the taste of those drugs from my mouth in an alley-way
  • a woman and a man in front of me in the alley, he kicked her away and left her there because she was so drugged and I think he beat her up
  • an ancient-world Indian doctor who seemed to know the underground land, and the things that happen on it, very well. She followed me a little ways this time, just like she did last time. She even said something to me, I think the same thing as last time. I was walking from one hospital grounds to my hospital, holding my back because I just had surgery. I knew she was somewhere behind me, seeing me, but she told me I can’t go back in there. I thought to myself, I just had surgery, I have to go back in there. I kept walking into my hospital and she continued on, talking to other people around the hospital grounds. There were no boundaries between the hospitals and the underground worlds for her, and I think she wanted me to understand that. Her clothing was so white against the dark of night, especially within the underground. Interestingly, I did not see her again, asleep or awake, after I had that particular dream.
  • I had been part of a “Tiki God” ritual (not sure of the phrase Tiki God, but Tiki something ritual) in past dreams, near the alley or near a pool where there were so many people in it that they were lined up along strung lines going across the pool – dozens and dozens of people in each pool
  • accessing the underground/“Tiki God” area through what seemed like long lines of people wanting or waiting to get in – like trying to get into a club. I went straight up to the start of a line during a subsequent dream sequence this time, to talk to the ticket-taker or bouncer person to let them know I needed in only to find someone. I was let in, or at least my purpose was served quickly after the initial plastic drug incident that happened in an earlier dream / the first night.
  • selling some kind of weird pack of cigarettes in trade for some “underworld” money
  • at the pontoon area – a folded piece of paper with a number – 580, 385, or something with an 8 – it was my ticket number or ticket receipt number for the pontoon ride. This is the second time I was supposed to ride on this pontoon, but I had to get off from riding it – again. The first time (a dream from my first surgery, I believe) it was a big inconvenience for me to get off the pontoon right away. This time I told the lady I need to get right back off. She said no, but no one stopped me when I got off. It seemed much more convenient to leave the pontoon this time. I didn’t get another receipt, which may be why it was more convenient. But now I don’t have a ticket for next time?
  • I was more familiar with being in the wrong part of the land this time, and wasn’t as afraid when I had to pass through a small piece of it after getting off the pontoon
  • taking part in some other-world mass transit system where people wore soft, thick clothes similar to space suits

Truck Driving in the Snow

Another part of recurring dreams while in the hospital, I remember driving a semi – just the front part of the semi – to pick up coffee or maybe there is some large ball of yarn/twine that I’m hauling around. It is the middle of a snowy night and I’m trying to drive cross-country, or at least on the interstate to somewhere, and I’m driving through the fields instead of the road, so I figure it’s just easier to drive as straight-line as possible, so I stay driving in the fields, plowing through snow and field leftovers.

Enough With Dreams, This is How I’m Feeling

I still have my left leg numbness and weakness. Three fingers on my right hand are numb/sensitive/painful/cold/tingly and I can’t provide one word to accurately describe how they feel.

The ever-present arm/hand/finger pain is reduced to a shooting pain between my neck and shoulder, or a shooting pain from my shoulder to hand, that sometimes feels like it is so intense that it crosses my eyes for an instant. But the pain isn’t leaving me constantly weighted down like it did before the surgery. Thank goodness. The same pain meds seem to be covering better than pre-surgery, and even immediately post-surgery.

I recently covered my right three/numb fingers with band-aids. It is more acceptable to me that I can’t feel my fingers because of the band-aids, rather than because they are actually, physically impaired.

Best Costume 2017 Goes To…

My baby sister deservedly owns Halloween just because it’s her birthday.

Happy Birthday, Nay!

But I submitted my photo for a Best Halloween Costume bid via mass text to my family on that day. I got no response other than my mother-in-law’s “Yeah. I think you won honey.” Classic.

I have an awesome, gross surgery-site black mess thing on the front of my neck. Photo inserted here, if I feel daring enough. If not, then I didn’t feel daring enough.

Lately, sometimes it seems like I’m looking at text through a mirror.

I would like to find out what really happened to me during those two days. I can ask my husband for some answers, but I don’t know how much I can get related to what I would really like to know about – my dreams.

I had my surgery on Thursday. I was moved from ICU into a regular room on Sunday. I was release from the hospital on Tuesday. I think the last of the underworld dreams persisted through Monday? I saw the Indian doctor for the second and last time on Sunday evening. It was that night that she walked my dream, talking directly to me that once. And the thing is, both my husband and I like her. She is always upbeat and is funny. Why would she want to be in such a dark and scary dream?

She did the same thing the last time I had surgery – I saw her in person a few times, but it wasn’t until after the last time I saw her that she walked my dream the same way, talking to me across hospital grounds.

I’m a little afraid to ever have surgery again. But I wish I could remember everything so I could write it down. I’m sure it would make a great story for someone/me to read, beginning to end. Scare myself into not sleeping for a few nights.

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