Take a deep breath in, then out. Take a few more deep breaths in and out. Instructions from the anesthesiologist. It must have been barely my third breath and I was asleep like a baby. 6 hours later, I was woken up by someone calling my name. No surgeons in sight and no giant lights above my head in the recovery room.
The day started at the nuclear medicine department at 6:30 am in one hospital, then we drove to another hospital for the surgery. After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, I was moved to the surgery room at 12:30 pm. When Hakan picked me up, it was after 7 pm. It was one giant long day. Without any debriefing from the surgeons, which seems a bit odd, we had to assume that the surgery must have gone as anticipated.
Walking out of the hospital into the chilly and sunny evening with Hakan’s hand steadying me, I felt like a stranger in an alien city. Anesthesia, nerve blockers and painkiller triple whammy certainly made me feel like I wasn’t on solid ground and more like afloat. Yet, another milestone had passed. With it, a sense of relief!
In the car on our way home, we talked about all the sweet and sincere well-wishes and messages that we received the past few days from our friends and families. We’re overwhelmed by so much love and generosity. And truly blessed.
I’m now recuperating, taking one day at a time. No major pain, no troubles so far. Just stiff, groggy and in need of rest. Next week we’ll meet the surgeons and we’ll know more about what’s next on this journey of illumination. Thanks for keeping us company. It’s so good to know we’re not walking alone.
