A More Serious Blog About Life

It was September 2003 and My Life was About to Change . . . Forever

The hospital waiting room, a place often associated with discomfort and mental aguish; this particular hospital room was no different, especially for me. It was a cozy room with a slight chill in the air, off to the side sat a television with the sole intent of easing a patients troubled mind. The impending ear surgery had a venomous grip on my mind, body, and soul. I see my parents to the left of me, looking visibly shaken as any parent would at this particular moment. I can tell they are trying to be strong for me, but I can see the worry grimly shine through the blank expressions on their faces. As the nurses feverishly work to do their jobs skillfully—with a hint of joy in their voices to lighten the mood, I notice the IV slightly itches at the point of contact with my wrist. The four hours of waiting felt like a decade of despair--the thoughts racing through my mind wondering what course of action my life would take after this day.

The surgery itself was four hours in length and of a very complex nature; over a ten year period a cyst had developed in my inner ear creating a very dangerous infection that not only destroyed my hearing but also easily could have caused me facial paralysis. The surgeon, a thirty-year veteran of the medical profession from the country of Pakistan, even had his doubts if I would come out of this in the same form as I had before the surgery.

The last thing I remember before going into surgery was being wheeled from the waiting room to the cold, morgue-like room where my surgery would be performed. My thoughts, admittedly scattered were dis-jointed by the powerful anesthetic that was coursing through my body. No matter how I tried to rationalize it, the thoughts went something like this: why was this happening to me, why didn’t the doctors catch it sooner.”

The next memory I can re-call is awaking in a state of confusion; my mind had not yet caught up with my eyes that were trying to once again open to the free world. Over to my right I see my parents; my mom with tears of joy in her eyes; my dad standing up tall and firm with wide eyes showing very little emotion, being strong during the time of my biggest internal weakness.

After clearing the cobwebs, I surveyed the damage. I found an abnormally huge bandage that completely covered my ear as well as most of the left side of my face. After feeling the bandage that was soaked with clear drainage and freshly warmed blood that was dispersing from the widen canal of my damaged ear drum. I then turned my attention to behind my ear where the surgery was performed; upon feeling behind my ear I found many stitches that were rough to the touch feeling almost as how rusted barbed wire would feel rubbed against bare flesh.

The next eighteen hours were the most painful of my entire life. The first few hours were not terribly bad as my parents were there talking and giving me steady encouragement at all times. As the night came and my parents left, the pain started to intensify; perhaps it was the night air, or maybe it was being all alone in that dark, empty room with the only comfort being the television that sat on the wall? It was an endless night, with sleep barely being a plausible option. Every couple of hours a nurse would come in to change my IV or give me some strong medicine that would take away the physical pain for a mere couple of hours.

When morning came I opened my tired eyes and realized that within only a few short hours it would be time to go home and move on with my life. The doctor told my parents that in his thirty years of performing this surgery that I was undoubtedly the worst case he had ever seen. In his medical opinion, he felt that it was a miracle the surgery turned out as well as it did without any real damage other than some hearing loss. My mom came in mid-morning, looking much better than she had the evening before. The nurses frantically tried to get me to eat and walk, two things I had no desire to. In all actuality if I could have stayed in that hospital bed for a week without moving, I would have, no questions asked. I never felt that down and out before; surely it was a helpless feeling of exhaustion and nervousness that plagued my kindred sprit. Knowing it was for my own benefit, finally after much resistance, I agreed to eat the “delicious” hospital food and walk for this first time since the surgery.

The first mistake I made was agreeing to all this was I actually had to eat the hospital food; that by itself figured to prolong my hospital stay, rather than shorten it. The food basically made the weight watchers program seem like a four star restaurant deep in the heart of NYC. The walking part was where it became interesting and rather pathetic; the doctor said that I would experience a balance issue at first due to how the ear drum is connected to the equilibrium in terms of walking. As I started to walk my legs felt like play-doh that was being bent beneath the fingers of the small child. A simple task like walking quickly became very trivial; I felt like a small infant taking steps for the very first time. I thought it would take forever to regain my balance, but after just two laps around the hospital I felt more confident and ready for next step in my rehabilitation.

By late morning I was discharged from the hospital; finally it was time to go home and start my life as if it were starting all over again. I never really thought anything like this would ever happen to me. I was the typical happy, healthy adolescent with a bright future ahead of me . . . or so I thought. Sometimes in life you need something major to happen in order to learn the reality of the hardship and just how unfair life can be. There are times in life, like a defining moment where you mature; turning from a mere boy, into a man--for me this experience was that defining moment. After this surgery I gained a newfound respect for life, took nothing for granted, and realized that everything I knew about life could change in the mere blink of an eye.