Читать книгу Laughing at Cancer - Ros Ben-Moshe - Страница 19

Between Two Worlds: To The Other Side

I was being wheeled down a narrow corridor when my eyes opened just long enough to see a panic-stricken Danny walking beside me. Apparently I emitted a groan, and then I was out again.

I next awakened in a recovery room. My eyes were open, but I was not fully present. I felt like I was falling and falling. I couldn’t make any words come out of my mouth; they were stuck. A nurse came to check on me. I have a vague recollection of her saying something about how long I took to wake up (I later found out it had been several hours and I was in intensive care). Immobilised, I still couldn’t speak, sinking deeper and deeper. I was in my body, but my heart barely was. I passed through both sides of consciousness, at times feeling closer to death than life. My frantically pulsating anchor was unmooring, seemingly trying to exit its own cavity. I wanted to be back in the here and now, but was between two worlds, neither of them comforting. I couldn’t breathe, nor move or motion for the nurse to remove my oxygen mask. Couldn’t they see I couldn’t breathe? It felt like oxygen was being syphoned away rather than supplied. Powerless, trapped and voiceless, I willed my eyes to open. I wished someone could have stayed by my side to hold my hand and comfort me. Why did they have to keep disappearing? All I could see were empty beds.

Finally my mask was removed, but still I was sinking deeper. Words once again failed me. My heart rate was over 128 beats per minute, at times faster. I faintly overheard discussions about the need to page my anaesthetist and another nurse saying it was nearly 3am. 3am? How could it be? My operation was at 2pm. Simultaneously I wanted to throw up and pass out. Thankfully I must have surrendered to sleep because when I next opened my eyes I was in a different room with 5 or so other people—one of them scream-ing to get the nurses’ attention. The beeping of machines filled the room; that and the loud cries of the woman opposite me. Why was she so inconsiderate? Couldn’t she see she was not the only one here? I needed peace and quiet. My heart still seemed to be beating extraneously from my body. I felt like death warmed up yet mustered a smile when a kindly nurse asked if I wanted an oxygen mask. No way did I want that suffocating apparel anywhere near me again. Instead I opted for more morphine.

At least I knew I was alive! I just couldn’t move more than a millimetre without pain gripping every part of my body neck down.

What a mammoth operation, to put it mildly! No one could have prepared me for its enormity. And I don’t blame them; how could they? Thankfully with no live experience of operations (save for wisdom teeth extraction) my only point of reference in terms of non-worldly pain was childbirth, and what a doddle that was!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for delivering me to the other side. I am filled with boundless gratitude for all the love and support I have received. Let the healing and recovery begin!

Xoxoxoxoxoxo