Far beyond the call of duty ...

I was first approached by Patrice, my OR nurse from last week (aka "my guardian angel"). She said "hello" and asked how I was doing. We exchanged a few brief words, and she rushed towards a nearby office where she yelled: "Paris is here!" All the doctors and nurses inside giggled. I guess they had come to the conclusion (like so many other people) that I was Paris Hilton's look alike -- so I had acquired a nickname in the hospital already.

Another nurse then came towards me with a clipboard and explained that he would be my nurse during this operation. As he began asking the 100 questions he was required to ask of me, I began feeling uneasy. He was young, quiet, and seemed uneasy. Where is Patrice? I want Patrice!!! I kept quiet. Next, I was approached by another man, who introduced himself as Dr.Jensen (I think) and told me he would be my anesthesist. He was an older and much more serious man than Craig, but all the same, he was a nice man. Where is Craig? I want Craig!!! I thought to myself ... This would be much easier if the same people as last time were here. I now appreciated them even more.

The anesthesist began explaining what he would do to me today and explained the effects of the anesthetic. I cut him off, being anxious: "I don't have to get that freezing needle this time, right?" He looked like he was trying to figure me out: "Ah ... what are you referring to?" I explained that last week Craig gave me a needle in the back, between the lung and spinal chord, which was meant to freeze my left side. He stumbled over his words: "Ah... hehe ... well I had planned to ...em ... give it to you, but its really up to yourself whether you want it or not." Oh no. More decisions! I asked him how much worse off I would be without the freezing and if I would be crazy not to get it. He explained that it provides a considerable amount of comfort to patients following surgery, but it was still my choice. I asked: "Do most people get this?" He answered, snickering at the same time: "Well, yes, most people do have it when offered." I looked at my mother. She looked at me. "I think you should take it," she said. I can't go through with this again. They both stared at me. The anesthesist said: "Listen ... I really don't want you to feel pressured into doing something you are not comfortable with, so why don't we just go ahead with the operation without it?" I agreed. I can't do it again.

The next person to approach me was Dr.Butler. I can't even recall why now, but I do recall that I asked him what he thought about my decision concerning the freezing. His face told me that he knew nothing of this decision ... and he wasn't about to let me stick with it easily. He explained that it would provide me a great deal of post-operative comfort and he definitely did not recommend me not having it. I trusted him, so I put my faith in him. Suck it up. I said: "Ok I guess I'll be brave and have it then. It's gonna be hard without the nurse I had last time to hold onto and squeeze, though." At this point I didn't know the nurse's name was Patrice. All I knew was that she was one special nurse. Dr. Butler smiled and I could tell he was reaching back in his mind, trying to figure out who I was speaking of. Off he went.

My mother and I sat outside the OR, as I rocked back and forth nervously, dreading that same needle I was given last week. You know, I was never a needle wimp before now. I went for bloodwork without flinching and never minded the dentist's needles at all. But now I was beginning to fear them. There is such a great variety of them out there ... and I was getting hit with the worst of them. Another nurse soon came by and told me my aunt was out in the general waiting area and was wondering if she could talk with me. Only one person is allowed in the OR waiting area to wait with a patient, so I asked quietly if she could quickly come in. The nurse was very sweet and said that this would be no problem at all, and she quickly went off to fetch my aunt. It turned out to be my aunt Judy, who came just for support, which I really appreciated. I expressed how frightened I was and she comforted me, assuring me that everything would be fine. I rocked. And I rocked.

Suddenly, I saw Patrice coming around the corner with a smile ear to ear. She came right to me and bent down on her knees, putting her hands in my hands. She said: "I have come on special request! I feel so important!" Tears immediately filled my eyes and I cried (I am crying just thinking back about this) for a number of reasons. I cried mainly because I was so happy that she would be with me again when I really needed her. And I cried also because I was humbled at how very kind people can be. Dr.Butler went out of his way to be sure I was comfortable. He actually went into another operating room, where Patrice was with another patient, and switched her with my nurse so that she could be with me. These people had again gone far beyond their call of duty. I looked around me. My aunt cried. My mom cried. Patrice cried (but still managed to maintain her genuine smile). We all cried together. And suddenly I was called into the operating room.

I hugged my aunt who was filled with tears. I kissed my mom, who is quite the tough woman and managed to keep the tears to a minimum. I wiped away my tears. Patrice took me by the arm and escorted me down that same long hallway and into that same familiar room. "Be strong. You are going to be fine," she whispered, as we opened the doors.