Re: Kate's upcoming surgery with Dr. Kebaish

[Guest guest]

Hi Kate,

I have to tell you that I was in so much pain before surgery that anything was

better than to live like that and had actually saved up all my pain meds to end

it all. So, from someone who has been on your side, I will now tell you where I

am 2 years post op...

AMAZING!!! I am now 52 but am back to where I was at 38. I am pain free... I

where heels again.... I work out... ride a bike....and can sit on a plane for 8

hours in coach!I went from 125lbs before surgery to a buff 113 lb.

I am back in a bikini scars and all.... which have faded so much it is amazing.

I only look at my back scar once every 6 months so that I really see the fading.

My stomach scar is totally faded out.

What I cannot do.... I cannot do laps in a pool. I do not jog or run except to

catch a bus.

I am back to working full time in the fashion industry. For exercise I go into a

lap pool and with web gloves on my hands... I walk back and forth and change arm

strokes every five minutes. Last 10 minutes I hook onto the side of the pool and

do leg kicks.

If you asked me would I do it again I would have to say I should have done it 5

years earlier! I wasted 5 years of my life.

I am truly a different person now. I am NEVER in a bad mood. I always have a

smile on my face. I NEVER sweat the small stuff.

Everyday is a gift.

Good luck in your surgery. You will do great! I have posted my x-ray in the

photos. Pretty amazing what my insides look like!

Best of luck!

Peri.

[Guest guest]

Damn, girl! You're 52 and wear a bikini? You got guts! I hope my tummy scar fades but I'll never be in a bikini! PeggySent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryFrom: "PERIB" <peribasel@...>Sender: Date: Sat, 21 May 2011 11:02:11 -0000< >Reply Subject: Re: Kate's upcoming surgery with Dr. Kebaish Hi Kate,I have to tell you that I was in so much pain before surgery that anything was better than to live like that and had actually saved up all my pain meds to end it all. So, from someone who has been on your side, I will now tell you where I am 2 years post op...AMAZING!!! I am now 52 but am back to where I was at 38. I am pain free... I where heels again.... I work out... ride a bike....and can sit on a plane for 8 hours in coach!I went from 125lbs before surgery to a buff 113 lb.I am back in a bikini scars and all.... which have faded so much it is amazing. I only look at my back scar once every 6 months so that I really see the fading. My stomach scar is totally faded out. What I cannot do.... I cannot do laps in a pool. I do not jog or run except to catch a bus. I am back to working full time in the fashion industry. For exercise I go into a lap pool and with web gloves on my hands... I walk back and forth and change arm strokes every five minutes. Last 10 minutes I hook onto the side of the pool and do leg kicks. If you asked me would I do it again I would have to say I should have done it 5 years earlier! I wasted 5 years of my life. I am truly a different person now. I am NEVER in a bad mood. I always have a smile on my face. I NEVER sweat the small stuff. Everyday is a gift.Good luck in your surgery. You will do great! I have posted my x-ray in the photos. Pretty amazing what my insides look like!Best of luck!Peri.

[Guest guest]

Bravo, Kate!Yes, you can definitely do this! I never thought I could go through with it, but when your back's up against the wall (well, not literally -- bending ever closer to your waistline is more like it), you do what you have to do. I think your mantra is excellent -- truly first-rate. Just in case you could use any supplemental tactics or mindsets,. I hope you will indulge me while I add my 2 cents . . . I suspect you are likely to be swept by powerful emotions right now, with your surgery just two days away. Just ride them out as best you can and do whatever you think might soothe the anxieties a little -- the mantra, your favorite music, some great escape-literature or entertaining video. Depending on your personal belief system, you might find that some form of meditation or mindful prayer is helpful. Rebbe Nachman, the father of Breslover Hasidism, encouraged all his followers to find a beautiful spot in nature and go there, preferably late at night, to cry out their deepest feelings to God in a form of spontaneous prayer called hisbodidus -- to scream, to weep inconsolably, to go where the spirit led. I bet you could do something similar in your car with the windows rolled up. In fact, I wish I'd found such an outlet myself in the last day or two before my first revision in Boston. I was staying with relatives who lived in the Maine woods, so why didn't it occur to me that I could slip out amongst the trees at some point and unburden myself to the heavens -- "Why me, why this, all-merciful Creator? Did I ever once ask for this? Did I say I was yearning for a few more osteoteotomies and a whole new bundle of titatanium implants? I mean, what am I, crazy? Would you just please CALL IT OFF ALREADY?! (etc., etc.)" Instead, I was an unusually stressed-out and possiby even rude houseguest whom my long-lost cousins (I hadn't seen them since I was a sweet little kid) are probably quite happy never to see again! But hey, I figure that's their problem --a certain failure of imagination or empathy. Flatback revision surgery is a biggie. Maybe the biggest biggie of your life. In my opinion, based on numerous conversations with other revision grads, it is absoutely routine for a person to freak out preoperatively. The only abnormal reaction to the prospect of this surgery is a calm, accepting, well-adjusted-type reaction. Shaking is de rigeur. Bawling out your nearest and dearest, crying or shaking uncontrollably, walking around in a daze, emitting erratic streams of invective --all of these responses are totally acceptable and respectable. I always like to tell the true story of one particular research physician, progressively and hopelessly more hunchbacked with each passing month, who finally consented to revision surgery . She remained surprisingly unafffected and unflappable, at least to all outward appearances, through all the weeks leading up to the operation. Such dignity! Such cool! Such couth! Such mature and admirable restraint! (All the while, day and night, she was obsessively singing her favorite Gilbert & Sullivan arias over and over in her head.) Finally the appointed day and hour of surgery arrived. She was trundled onto a gurney: still beatifically composed, still silently singing (". . . I've tea and I've treacle . . . and a right good Captain too! . . . I'm called little Buttercup, dear little Buttercup . . . ") as the gurney rolled on through the hospital toward the operating room. Then, just as the surgical suite loomed up ahead, this petite young woman spied a tall wooden column of some kind. The self-protective singing in her head must have gone silent for a split-second. The reality must have hit her full-force, albeit at the last possible moment. Reaching out from the gurney, she hauled off and slammed one diminutive fist, as hard as could, into that stout wood column. The column cracked and splintered explosively-- shards of lumber flying everywhere, blanketing the floor of the hospital corridor -- as she went sailing on into the OR.So you see, Kate -- though you may have known this already from following the revisionary exploits of your fellow Feisty folk -- stark raving terror is a perfectly normal and expected reaction to what you are facing. Speaking personally, I have to say that this particular phase of the ordeal is the hardest part of all -- the major, most heart-stopping challenge -- as you're forced to leap into the vast unknown with 'nary a net in sight. Post-op has its rigors and sometimes its unexpected probems to be tackled, but for me, at least, none of that could compare with the total terror, the wild distress, preceding my first revision. You just have to get yourself from here to there -- to the point at which they give you a nice prefatory needle in the arm. Well, at least if you're like me, anyway. I have a phobia of the mask from my tonsillectomy at age 10 and will not let anyone come near me with anything in a mask, even oxygen, until I'm out cold from the barbiturate or whatever potion's in that syringe or catheter. If you have any such requests or preference, be sure to tell the anesthesiologist -- repeating it later on if necessary, e.g., if a colleague or resident should show up in his place. The same with any special requests to Dr. Kebaish -- for instance, if you want him to keep your MP3 player plugged in and feeding you the soundtrack of your choice throughout your surgery; or if you would like any special person(s) to be with you right before you go into the O.R. (I didn't, but my revision surgeon sent me someone anyway -- an earnest hospital chaplain who popped in for the second time, having previously given me instructions in self-hypnosis for an optimal surgical experience! I figured it couldn't hurt.)Regarding pain relief after your surgery, I trust you will have a bedside pump that enables you to self-administer morphine as needed. There will be a certain mandatory interval between doses, so the trick is not to be asleep at the time your next dose is allowed -- otherwise you might later wake up in pretty bad pain. It helps a lot if you have a clued-in family member keeping vigil who can press the button for you if you happen to drift off. Medical centers are mandated to provide adequate pain relief to patients and can technically lose their accreditation for failing to do so. Again in my experience, the teaching hospitals seem well aware of this obligation these days and genuinely make every effort to live up to it. A patient who is not getting enough pain relief should not hesitate to assert her needs -- holler, raise heck, whatever. Since you may not be up to strident self-assertion so soon after surgery, here again it's best if you can have a friend or loved one stationed at your bedside and ready to do battle for you as your advocate.We'll be thinking about you, Kate -- praying for you, rooting for you. whatever all we Feisties do to dispatch good vibes to one another on The Big Day. How wonderful that you're about to put this behind you! You'll be so glad when it's over!Thanks so much for keeping us posted and letting us know this was happening.Please give yourself all the credit in the world for making this decision -- for taking this momentous step toward a more livable life.Hang in there. Godspeed. >> Hello to all, I saw Dr. Kebaish in preparation for my surgery next Tues. and realize I had either misheard or somehow, blocked out what he had told me previously so that I thought the surgery would be much less involved than it is. The mind is amazingly protective when it thinks one is not ready to receive some info. However it seems I'm having the typical revision surgery so many of you have gotten through. Dr. Kebaish plans on placing rods from T10 or T11 to the> sacrum with screws at each level and very large screws at the base to support the structure. He will do an osteotomy at L2 0r 3. I am terrified and hope I will be able to stay on the table until they can sedate me. The thoughts of all of you who have gone before are what make me think I can do this. I cannot thank this group enough for being here and sharing experiences as it makes the process of considering this undertaking much easier than it might otherwise be. The stories from is site keep running through my mind and they help give me courage, which anyone who's had a botched surgery knows is sorely needed when moving toward revision.> I was impressed that, as I went from visits with anesthesia to bloodwork etc.at s Hopkins, a number of people commented on what a great surgeon I have and what a miracle worker he is. I am not impressed with his personality but am impressed by all the comments he generated.> Dr. Kebaish would not assure me that they can manage the post op pain, given how much narcotic I'm on. He merely said "it is a large amount but I've certainly had people on more." I wanted him to say they could handle whatever came up and found myself amazingly inept at asking the questions that might get such reassurance, due to the fact I was literally shaking while in the office. Anyone who knows me would be surprised at my being so tongue tied and I was surprised by how much this surgery has me frightened. I wished I had someone> with me who could have gone through the list of questions I had. However, I guess what I really need to do now is keep reminding myself that: taking this risk is the only way I can move forward, that I've chosen a well qualified surgeon and that I can handle whatever comes up as a result of taking this step. This will be my mantra through Tues. Thank you all, Kate>