A Guardian Angel and a Double Rum & Coke

I was led through a series of hallways and was asked to have a seat once we landed in the OR area of the hospital. My mom sat with me and holded my hand. She explained that I didn't need to worry ... I would go to sleep and wake up in what would feel like a few minutes, not even knowing anything had happened. I tried to calm down.

At this point in my journey with breast cancer, I was still extremely emotionally sensitive. I was nervous to talk to people because I feared breaking down in front of them. Any talk about cancer or my current situation would have me in tears. So you will understand that when the anesthesiologist approached me for a preoperative chat, I broke down. Again, I should remind you that I was not even minutely familiar with hospitals, so I had no idea who he was or what his job was. He was an extremely friendly man, who came over to me and said "You must be Melanie! ... My name is Craig and I will be your anesthesist today." He began looking over my documents and asked if I was here to have a lumpectomy. I replied yes. He said: "Well the booby is a strange thing Melanie. Lots and lots of women get lumps in their boobies and they usually turn out to be nothing, so don't worry ok?" My only reply was: "Mine is cancer ... I was already tested in South Korea ... this is just a precaution." He looked so sympathetic and so sincere that I began to cry. He put his hand on my leg and told me everything would be alright. He explained the procedure and turned out to be a hilarious guy. Every time he had to mention the breast, he called it a booby, which made me laugh. Most doctors I had seen so far had been so damn serious. He was able to pick me back up and make me feel better.

Soon, a nurse came and told me it was time to go in. I hugged my mother, took a deep breath, and followed the nurse down a long hallway and into the operating room. As I entered the room, everything felt surreal. It looked like something I had seen on reality television, or House, or Gray's Anatomy. It was a large white room with a skinny bed plopped down in the center. All sorts of machines were around its perimeters, and half a dozen doctors and nurses zipped around in their blue hats, slippers, and scrubs, getting everything prepared.

I was immediately approached by my guardian angel ... well, at least that's what I think of her as now. She was a nurse with the most beautiful, sincere eyes I have ever seen. All I could see was her eyes because she had a mask over her nose and mouth. But I will always remember her eyes. She put her hand on my shoulder and talked very quietly to me. She treated me with great respect, care, and sincerity. She directed me to the bed and gave me a heated blanket to put over me. She stood right beside me the entire time I watched everyone buzzing around the room. She continued to ask me if I was ok, if I needed anything, if I would like another blanket, etc. I feel like she went above and beyond her call of duty. She was someone who didn't just do her job, she actually cared. She made my first experience in the hospital and with cancer 1000 times easier.

Soon, Craig approached me. He first hooked me up to the IV (my first experience with this too!) and explained that he would be giving me a needle (which I had previously agreed to) through the back, which would numb the entire left side of my upper body. This is a technique which only some doctors can perform and which requires great precision. It requires the doctor to pinpoint a nerve located in a tiny space between the lung and the spinal chord, and, as you can imagine, it presents the danger of puncturing the lung. But, it also provides a high level of comfort post-operation (for up to 2 days). But ... boy did I NOT know what I was in for. First, I was poked in the back with a needle meant to numb the area. And then ... he came at me with a needle that looked about 6 inches long. I cannot begin to describe the sensation it caused me, but I can tell you that it was not nice. Painful. I yelled. I cried and sobbed. I felt like a small child. It lasted soo long! The only thing that kept me from jumping was Patrice, the nurse I mentioned earlier. She held me from the front and spoke to me softly, telling me that I was going to be alright, that I was doing excellent, and that I was a brave woman. Dr. Butler (my surgeon) also came to me and said: "You're going to be fine, Melanie." This meant so much to me.

I can't tell you how appreciative I was of the care I got that day. I really felt that everyone in that operating room cared about me ... they weren't just there to get a job done. Craig (the anesthesiologist), Patrice (the OR nurse), and Dr.Butler all went above and beyond.

A few minutes later, the dreadful needle was done and they laid me back onto the bed. Craig said: "Mel ... do ya like drinking? What's your favorite drink?" I replied that I liked beer, red wine, and milky drinks. He asked: "What do they drink over in Korea?" I told him all about Soju, one of the big staples of South Korea. He said: "Well, Mel, here is a double rum and coke for ya, on the house." Immediately, the whole room turned into a giant wave. I had never felt so good!!! This feeling made surgery worth it! Then ...

Blackness.