Friday, May 11, 2012

Haunted By The Past

Barbara: I didn’t make a big deal out of Michele’s tonsillectomy in the days leading up to it here on the blog. And I only mentioned it in the comments section on Monday because my stay at the hospital was quite a bit longer than I had anticipated (which was fine), and my internet access wasn’t working as I had planned (which was not!). I didn’t talk about it because I wasn’t really worried. Tonsillectomies are pretty routine as far as surgeries go, right? It was an elective surgery that we had finally decided to go for because Michele’s tonsils were causing more and more trouble the older she got. From the time she was a little girl, the doctors always said they were “impressive” tonsils. And they were: big and round and as shiny-red as jawbreakers in the back of her mouth. But they were getting infected more and more often, which is not good—and so we finally realized we needed to pull out the big guns: surgery. We knew she would be in pain, we knew it would put her out of commission for about 10 days. But we thought it was the right and best thing to do: just a simple and easy decision. Right?

We weren’t scared. We were confidant. We researched and talked about coping strategies for the recovery—which is said to be very painful for adults (which Michele is officially this year). Unfortunately, my husband was scheduled for an out-of-town business trip that he couldn’t change, so a) I was handling any last-minute stress by myself and b) (and most importantly to this story) my husband was far away and feeling increasingly helpless as the day unfolded.

All my “casual” ideas about the “routine”ness of this surgery kinda went out the window the second I saw my child in hospital garb and the doctors and nurses fussing over her. And then there was the waiting. All the waiting. Not the best for jittery nerves. But everything was going smoothly. There was no “need” to worry, even if that didn’t quite stop me from doing so.

Now the other side of this story is that I wasn’t able to keep my husband as posted as he would have liked. He left a bunch of messages for me on my cell phone, checking in anxiously to see how she was doing, if there was any word. I remember thinking his usual stoic reserve was crumbling faster than usual.

Now to skip ahead on the medical side of things: the doctor told me as soon as he was done that the surgery had gone perfectly, with very little bleeding. He said it boded well for her recovery. For her part, Michele came out of the surgery feeling euphoric. The first thing she said to me was that when she woke she felt this overwhelming gratitude; she really really wanted to thank her doctors and nurses. She was so happy, she said, that when they wheeled her back to the recovery bay she was pumping her fists in the air like the female Rocky of the O.R. (if you know Michele at all, this isn’t really her style).

Today, on Day 4 of recovery, she is actually doing much better than any of the info and warnings and online forums had led us to believe. She is in pain, sure, but not such terrible pain that she can’t eat solid foods. Although I am becoming quite the expert at ice-water delivery and smoothie-making (menu so far: real peach freezies; Tofutti “ice cream” bars; honeydew melon popsicles, Glowing Green smoothies; frozen peach, almond milk and silken tofu smoothies; mushy lentil soup, scrambled eggs; mashed potatoes; roasted squash; wilted spinach; and lots and lots of chewing gum!). She is sleeping well and watching lots of movies (she doesn’t quite have the stamina yet for creative projects like drawing or writing). So all good, huh?
(with her permission) Michele recovering with Chaplin as loving nursemaid.
But wait: I haven’t gotten to the punchline of the story yet.

Turns out Phil was hanging on to a bit of a doozy. Turns out his nagging fears on surgery day had a bit more history than a father’s simple concern for his child.

When he saw that everything had turned out well for Michele, he could no longer keep this story to himself. His grandfather—Michele’s great-grandfather—had died when Phil’s father was 7. He’d been a medical doctor in Lebanon named … Michel. Yes, Michele’s namesake. This Michel had died on the operating table during a routine … tonsillectomy.

Boom.

That was my heart exploding.

I was so so grateful that Phil was able to hang onto that little bit of haunting family history until after the operation. But, of course, it had been preying and feeding on his mind the whole time. Michele was grateful he waited to tell us too—but she was strangely philosophical about it. She said that when she’d woken up after the anesthetic had worn off, and when this euphoria had washed over her, she remembered thinking it was strange that she was so overwhelmingly grateful to her medical team. She remembered thinking sarcastically to herself, “Oh, I probably died from a tonsillectomy in another life.” (if you know Michele at all, you’d know sarcastic eye-rolling, even at herself, is totally her style). But no wonder she indulged in a little Rocky-esque fist-pumping when all was said and done.

To put the ancestral death in perspective: Michel Senior died on that operating table in the 1930s. Phil certainly was aware that we’ve come a long way medically since those days. He truly knew he had "nothing to worry about”. But still, huh? Still.

It makes me think of all the times in our lives when we are haunted by our family medical history. When our relatives’ health concerns and issues either become our own or threaten to do so. How many of us live in fear of reliving an ancestor’s awful illness or tragic surgery? Thank God our own story—our routine surgery—had a very happy—and routine—outcome.

Deb: I find it so interesting (ugga bugga, anyone?) that from the first moment I spoke to Barb about Michele the night before and during the first few days of her recovery, that I was focused on Phil. I said to Barb that I was sick about the fact that he was away and that I knew the pain it must be causing him. Now, Phil is a strong guy so it was very unusual that throughout I kept feeling and thinking “poor Phil”. So it was to my grateful amazement (grateful that Michele was okay and amazement at the story) that I discovered the whole truth of it. I am not psychically inclined—Mom is, my brother is, but Dad and I did not get gifted with the prophetic gig.

In fact, any time I have had premonitions, they have turned out to be completely and utterly unfounded. And yet, I could not get Phil and his circumstance out of my mind. And I salute him for keeping this to himself when he knew the extra pain it would cause his wife. It was certainly much tougher on him not being able to share. A fitting tribute to a guy on Mother’s Day. 

34 comments:

  1. It's great that the medical profession has improved so much, but, yes, any surgery carries a degree of risk. I know I'd be incredibly anxious if either of my girls needed surgery for any reason. I'm glad Michele is doing so well. Big hugs to all of you, especially Phil. What a great guy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Roz. And you are so right. We can't ever assume -- even in this day and age -- that nothing can go wrong. We can only assume that the odds are more IN our favour than against it.

      Delete
  2. I'm only on for a moment while Eddie finishes his breakfast. It's time to make the school run. So, I'll have to wait till later to write more. But, I can't step away from the laptop without RUNNING ACROSS THE INTERNET AND TACKLEHUGGING PHIL!!!!!!! Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh! Poor baby! Poor dear man!!!!!!! *chokes up* Strong, burdened, brave, noble man! Poor, sweet baby!!!!!!!!!!! OH, PHIL! *aghast sniffles*

    ReplyDelete
  3. Awwwh Poor Phil !!! *Big Hug*....Ya know...the moment I started reading the post...I knew it was something related to him !!! Gosh I did feel for both of you...and after this story....Gosh....!! That was so sweet of him...and it mustve been so hard...That was really brave....and sweet since it was mother's day...Awhhh... Barb give him a Big hug From all of us !!!

    I know how hard it mustve been for him coz I went through a similar thing with my Mom during my medical saga... When I had those medical issues and the doctors asked me to get a sonogram done to check if anything was wrong in the uterus...My mom (Whose middle name is PANICK) was panicking so much more that usual and she wouldn't tell me what was wrong...and I had no Idea why coz she usually tells me everything.....She waited until the reports came....and she was so so relieved.....and then after a while I realized she was worried coz she had Fibroids in her uterus... and Fibroid cause troubles during pregnancy. and they caused her trouble for 10 years....... So she was worried if it was hereditary and was passed on to me...Poor woman...!!! She hasn't admitted the fact to date...But I KNOW...IDK, I have PSYCHIC ABILITIES I GUESS ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well, there you go -- the same story in your own world! Thank god everything is okay!!!

      Delete
    2. It is honey......don't worry :) xoxo

      Delete
  4. Ohhhh...and I'm officially an Adult this year too.....And I know Michele is in great hands.....well more like paws as Chaplin's taking care of her!! Still great to know she's feeling better....Lots of love to you all (Especially Phil...!!Awwh gosh you Brave Brave fellow!) xoxo

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You are the official-official adult (21), whereas Michele is the junior version (18) :) xoxo

      Delete
  5. Glad it all went well and glad stayed quiet until after the surgery. It is so much harder for an adult to recover than the little ones where you barely can tell they had those suckers taken out.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Wow, your poor husband! And what a gem for not telling you until after the surgery, it must have been so difficult for him to do that.
    I'm named after my great grandmother (just my middle name Rose), and I'd seen a few photos of her when I was younger. It wasnt until I was a teenager that I found out that she died during childbirth having her second baby, who died as well. I'd never really thought about it beyond "oh what a sad story", until I was 43 weeks pregnant (waiting very uncomfortably for labour to start..). The doctor gave me one last exam and said sorry, he didnt think it was possible for me to give birth naturally. I cried all evening (inbetween taking breaks to eat chocolate), then the next day went to the hospital to have a cesarian. I thought I'd panic when I got in the operating room but I just couldn't stop thinking about my great grandmother, and how overwhelmingly lucky I felt to be in the position I was in. 100 years ago I might have had the same fate as her- so even though I wasnt too happy that my birthing plan was out the window, I was really grateful and calm. So I guess I was haunted by family tragedy but in a really good way.

    PS. your menu for your daughter sounds delicious. I'd love to spend a few days watching movies and having someone bring me those snacks, just without the sore throat!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wow, that's another great story about how we could be haunted by our ancestral past. We mothers of a certain age have often swapped stories about our labours where we've realized -- had the medical advancements not been what they are -- that we could have died during childbirth (or lost our babies). Makes you so appreciate how far we've come!

      Delete
  7. Oh wow. Phil must have been a mess of nerves. I can't imagine how he must have felt keeping that to himself and being so far away from you guys in the hospital. So glad all is turing out better than expected : )
    I understand how the ancestors can infulence our lives today. My grandmom's brother died in a car accident when he was just 16 or 18. He was wearing his seatbelt and in a jeep. It was afreak accident and if just one factor had been different he would have lived. But no one in my family is permitted to drive a jeep. It makes my grandmom nervous to be around jeeps still. We don't even have many suv type vehicles in our family because a roll over accident is always on someone's mind.
    Well that's all for now, continuing to send good wishes for Michele!
    Oh and I agree with Samara your menu sounds delicious : )

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, Kelly, that's a doozy too! These scares are really hard to shake off, aren't they??? Even if they are "freak".

      Delete
  8. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  9. My father's brother died of a burst appendix when he was only 4 years old (many moons ago). When my daughter had an emergency appendectomy at 15 if was very frightening for all of us - even though that I know that medicine has advanced so much since then. Thanks for sharing your story.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And I guess you had that playing on your mind the whole time she was in there! Sooo scary. Thanks for sharing, Dolores.

      Delete
  10. That story hit home in so many ways. I know we all have our own stories. What I always find amazing is the connection. We may not always understand in the beginning why we have certain feelings, but I do believe in gut feelings. I believe our family members in our past can project themselves into us. After all we are their DNA. Not in the way, most people think, of watching over or being an Angel, but just in the fact that they continue to be part of us.
    Heidi

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Heidi, I have to say I absolutely believe this: yes, they ARE in our DNA! Why do we assume our connection to them is just in physical realities and not also in their visceral energy? Which, of course, doesn't just disappear after they die. Thanks for tweaking this thought a little more for me today!

      Delete
  11. Aww poor Phil that must have made this extra hard. Boy what a sweetheart though for trying to protect you and Michele from extra worry until all was said and done. It's odd how knowing of an odd death or experience can make you fear it happenning again but having happenned once the odds are against it. I guess our knowledge that some things are hereditary makes us worry about repeats of everything.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yeah, you are so right: you'd think that we'd assume the odds are now with us for it NOT happening! But I guess our worries don't work that way... (or at least they consider the worst even if they don't quite give in to believing it)

      Delete
  12. I am so happy that it all worked out. What an amazing story. I cannot believe it. I worry sometimes about family medical history (it's not exactly pleasant), but I try not to think about it. When I was a kid, doctors wanted to take my tonsils out but i refused (as did my mom). We waited. Finally, when I was a bit older, all of the problems just stopped and I didn't need to have them removed. I have never had any form of surgery, actually, thankfully. However, I have spent a lot of time in the hospital with family, and the horrors that you see sometimes...
    I am glad that Phil didn't tell you that story until later. He really protected you from the thoughts that would have haunted you probably.
    I hope she has a speedy recovery! And Chaplin...so cute!
    Barbara and Deb, and all the moms here, I hope you have a lovely, wonderful Mother's Day! xoxo Where would we be without our moms?!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Steph!! As for the tonsils thing: we contemplated (as a family and in conference with the docs) many times what we should do. It was always best in the past that we did nothing... Until we had to do something. I wish her issues had cleared up. You are so lucky!

      Delete
  13. You had me going there, Barbara; I thought you were going to give us bad news. Whew! So relieved. I find it "more than coincidence" that Michele responded as she did when waking up after the surgery. How cool is that!

    "Poor Phil" is right. I can just imagine his anxiety. And being far away, on top of it. Extraordinary self-control, I think.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think so too, Kate. I am so so grateful that he was able to hold onto that for a few more days (although I truly feel for him!!). And I agree about the "more than coincidence" thing.

      Delete
  14. I recently had my wisdom teeth taken out and although it's not the same as having my tonsils removed I know how it can be annoying waiting for everything to heal...so i hope she is back to 100% very soon :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Garret -- Michele had her wisdom teeth out at Christmas. She was not very impressed to have her Christmas holidays start with a dental surgery and her summer holiday start with the tonsillectomy!

      Delete
  15. Wow. So lovely of Phil to keep it to himself until after the surgery!
    It's also great that Michele's recovery is going well, and it sounds like you're creating great food for her while she's healing :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Aimee! She really is recovering remarkably well! And thank god she can eat this great variety of stuff.

      Delete
  16. Glad to hear she is doing well! Bit of a scary story there. Love it! (with the happy ending.) I would have replied earlier, but I have been busy reading articles and writing school papers. Also did a presentation for Wednesday, about a vision (in leaders). So yeah, I have been a busy bee.

    I chose the topic for my presentation in January (when the school started) and haven't been bothered to read the chapter untill this week. It wasn't kind of what I had thought it would be. In short it is how every leader has a story and how they tell it and use the teachings of their past that make them great leaders... Part of the chapter is to make your own leadership story aka write your life story.

    I'm just going to let you connect the points. (to see how that little anecdote relates to this post.)

    ReplyDelete
  17. Awww...that you were so worried and concerned is sooooo cute!
    I'm glad she's recovering nicely. Only had my wisdom teeth removed in the hospital. Not a pleasant experience...but at least I could eat as much icecream as I wanted to.

    And the story with Phil's Grandfather...sent shivers down my spine...this is scary.

    And although everything improved...things like that still could happen...a lot of bad things happen in hospitals. Sadly.

    ReplyDelete
  18. FIRST, I'm SO SORRY I haven't responded to this sooner. I'm sure you know I care, but I wish to reiterate that, and I'm glad things actually did end up okay. {{HUGS}} xoxo

    OOOF! That was literally my gut reaction upon hearing of Phil's family's experience. It's very difficult to reconcile "I KNOW it's going to be okay. I KNOW it's going to be okay," with "Yeah, but what if? WHAT IF?"
    It's mind-boggling that he was able to hold that all in until after everything was "over and done with." I understand perfectly why he did, but that he was able to... wow.

    I actually have something of the opposite problem. I know almost nothing about my family's health history, no anecdotal evidence that anything has ever gone wrong. I WISH I did. I WISH I could hear stories, anecdotal evidence, particularly about the mental health of my maternal grandmother. It would mean an awful lot to me to know that I wasn't so "strange," so far from the norm in my family. However, ironically, "nothing was wrong," according to my mother. She was just sad about losing my grandfather.
    Twenty-five years after the fact.

    She was dependent on my mother for every activity that brought her out of her home, but don't worry.

    Everything was fine.

    ReplyDelete

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.