Last Tuesday Eric and I went to the hospital for a double appointment with the neurosurgeon and with the plastic surgeon. They wanted to examine my scalp to assess its condition for surgery: they needed to put back the bone plate that the neurosurgeon had taken out (see Adventure chapter). The neurosurgeon was concerned about the health of the skin because of the number of surgeries I’d undergone. That’s why he wanted discuss with a plastic surgeon the need for skin expansion. Our first appointment was with the neurosurgeon. Since it was in the morning, we had to leave early. Eric made my breakfast, and I ate it quickly. Then, we left for the city. We got to the hospital, put on our masks, went through several checks of vaccine shots and proof of negative tests, took the elevator to the neurosurgery department, and went inside the office to wait for him.
After lunch, we went to the plastic surgeon’s office. There, a resident saw me because the surgeon was performing an emergency surgery. The resident was new to the profession, as he told us over and over. So, he talked to me about methods and complications in such a way, that after hearing him I was convinced that I didn’t want to submit myself to this surgery. Fortunately, the surgeon came back. He examined my scalp and said it had already been expanded. Although he admitted that coplications might develop, he didn’t attach such significance to them. Then, he described the potential surgery step by step. In short, his attitude made me feel confident about having the operation (but my fear, though diminished, remained). After this appointment, it was time to go home.
When we got back, our conversation with the surgeons was fresh on our minds. We discussed the pros and cons of replacing the prosthesis: safety and quality of life (I would no longer have to lie down in bed all the time!), versus complications such as infection, bleeding, and clots. We promptly chose for having it. Yet I couldn’t but feel haunted by memories of my past coma, even if I was aware that this operation was fundamentally different.The next morning, when I talked to my older brother about it, he had no doubts about the need to replace the bone plate.
Then, in the evening Eric and I received a call from the neurosurgery nurse asking if I had made a decision regarding the surgery: was I going to go ahead with it? I said yes. After she hung up, I felt relieved and content. Today, several days later, the fear is still haunting me, but I think of myself without a helmet and going on the deck in my wheelchair, and I’m happy that Eric and I leaned toward the replacement.
After lunch, we went to the plastic surgeon’s office. There, a resident saw me because the surgeon was performing an emergency surgery. The resident was new to the profession, as he told us over and over. So, he talked to me about methods and complications in such a way, that after hearing him I was convinced that I didn’t want to submit myself to this surgery. Fortunately, the surgeon came back. He examined my scalp and said it had already been expanded. Although he admitted that coplications might develop, he didn’t attach such significance to them. Then, he described the potential surgery step by step. In short, his attitude made me feel confident about having the operation (but my fear, though diminished, remained). After this appointment, it was time to go home.
When we got back, our conversation with the surgeons was fresh on our minds. We discussed the pros and cons of replacing the prosthesis: safety and quality of life (I would no longer have to lie down in bed all the time!), versus complications such as infection, bleeding, and clots. We promptly chose for having it. Yet I couldn’t but feel haunted by memories of my past coma, even if I was aware that this operation was fundamentally different.The next morning, when I talked to my older brother about it, he had no doubts about the need to replace the bone plate.
Then, in the evening Eric and I received a call from the neurosurgery nurse asking if I had made a decision regarding the surgery: was I going to go ahead with it? I said yes. After she hung up, I felt relieved and content. Today, several days later, the fear is still haunting me, but I think of myself without a helmet and going on the deck in my wheelchair, and I’m happy that Eric and I leaned toward the replacement.
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