I’ve been told this a lot recently
I just had my second major surgery. It went well and though it was only a week ago, I can tell it’s healing pretty good thus far. The surgery prep was less than phenomenal, though it wasn’t the fault of a bad nursing staff. They dug around in various spots on my arms eight times before calling someone from the midline team.
I’ll state it again, the staff was fantastic. They were all very skilled nurses, and one was even my anesthesiologist that is familiar with EDS. The problem was completely with my veins that would blow or collapse on them. I can’t, and won’t, blame any of them because of my zebra veins causing problems. They were all kind, patient with my anxiety and slowly rising stress, and as gentle as trying to get the necessary IV allowed them to be. They even gave me a nice Ativan to help me calm down half way through the attempts and gave me warm blankets for my arms that were icy because of the Raynauds. Despite that, I will admit that I was struggling to hold back tears after one of the last attempts on my wrists. My surgeon happened to meander by at that time and asked how I was holding up. I looked at the anesthesiologist and back to my surgeon, and asked the both of them…
Can I Please, PLEASE Stop Being A Zebra Now?
My anesthesiologist responded with much appreciated humor and my surgeon responded with sincerity and empathy that, while I adore him, was unexpected. Though I was stressed so I don’t remember exactly, but it was something along the lines that while I can’t just stop being a zebra, how amazingly strong I must be to be able to handle being a zebra in the first place…only…I promise he was much more eloquent than that.
My pre-op nurses when I apologized for being a nervous wreck THANKED ME for my patience and cooperation and strength with this. I was told similar from my Primary Care Doctor, my Gynecologist, even my Acupuncturist. Not to mention friends that seem to never miss an opportunity to tell me. Even strangers that are visitors to where I work…”Wow, you’ve got an amazing attitude! You’re so strong!”
…But I Don’t Feel Strong
Especially not lying in that hospital bed, in a paper dress, arms with bumps from blown veins wrapped in warm towels, failing to hold back tears because I’m so broken I can’t even get an IV. Knowing I’d be going home to be confined to needing help with something as basic as taking a shower for about a month at least. Knowing I can’t be trusted to use a knee scooter the 200 yards to my work without supervision for at least a month. Yep, there’s the broken girl crying in the pre-op room.
I’m in pain all the time, and sometimes I break down because I just am completely overwhelmed with the fact I rarely have a day where something doesn’t hurt. I break down because I’ve been mobility impaired in some significant way with my ankles for over a year now. I break down because I’ve been breaking down more often than what I consider normal. Here I am, on the verge of breaking down in the hospital before surgery and they’re telling me how strong I am? And every time, I immediately think there’s something wrong with each person that sees me as having strength through any of this.
But Strength Isn’t About Never Breaking
This is something that I’ve still not learned well and will have to work on accepting. But strength in this situation is about choosing to push forward. I could have very well stopped after the fourth IV attempt, or even the second, and walked out. I could say “fuck it” to sticking to a strict diet that keeps me from going out to most places or eating without concern when friends cook. I could say I’m done seeing doctors for a while because it causes too much pain, and grief, and hopelessness.
Though I personally don’t see it as a choice, I persevere through each challenge the best I can. That after each time I break, I try and see what I can do next. If I stop being able to sit at my desk and paint, I wonder about ways to make it safe for me to do it in bed or on the couch. I am always on the look out for new things to try with my diet that will be replacements for foods I desperately miss. I’m even learning to let trusted friends know when I am truly not alright and should be checked in on occasionally. And though I still don’t see this strength most days, I have plenty that will remind me that while it feels inconsequential while elbow deep it in, the sheer fact of pushing forward in the face of adversity is where strength lies.
You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I lived through this horror. ~Eleanor Roosevelt
