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surgery
July 2007 
Seven Seven Oh Seven
Posted on Jul 7th, 2007
by 
Donna
Donna
It is July of the year 2007. July the Seventh. Seven Seven Oh Seven. I sit on my big soft comfy bed in North Vancouver, Canada. Trusty laptop balanced in front of me. I am sore and tired but feel much better than I have for the past four days. Four days ago I had surgery. Laparoscopic Heller Myotomy with partial fundoplication, to be exact. What a mouthful! In other words, the surgeon cut my esophagus in order to repair the muscle, which was squeezing too tight and didnt' allow food to enter my stomach normally.
Outside it's warm and sunny. Unusual for early July in British Columbia. A welcome change, however, from the cold rain and wind we've been having. I'm always surprised when people say it should be warm this time of year. As if it should be summer simply because the calendar says so. I know how the weather is this time of year, because it's my birthday season. The actual date of my birthday is June 29th, and it is rarely ever warm and sunny on that day. Up until recently, I used to get disappointed, and take it personally when it would rain or cloud over on my day. I thought it was because I wasn't worthy, or didn't deserve sunshine on my day. What a silly goose.
I wish I could go outside and go for a walk, but I'm not quite ready to do that yet. Probably this afternoon I'll be ready. My breathing is a bit shallow, taking a full breath is quite an effort, but I must remember to do so, in order to help my recovery. Hospital discharge papers say I have two complications to my surgery - Anxiety and Pneumothorax. I know about anxiety. Not enough to ever have taken prescribed medication - just self-administered, mostly in the form of chocolate, and cheese. Pneumothorax is another thing entirely. Initially I thought it meant pneumonia, and thought that was why they gave me so many antibiotics. But then I googled it, and learn it means collapsed lung. I must ask my surgeon about it. Apparently it's no big deal, however, as I was sent home after only 36 hours in hospital.
Speaking of anxiety - I was so looking forward to receiving morphine in the hospital. I thought it was some sort of secret euphoric drug available only under special circumstances when you were really sick or lucky. For me it was a nightmare - the night nurse gave me 5 times the dose the evening nurse did. She drugged me up and then surfed the internet all night (I was in a huge room with six other patients so her computer was right in my sight). I was too out of it to care and besides, what do I care anyway? The point is, morphine turned out not to be the new friend I was so excited to meet.
Achalasia is a very strange disease. Even now, having undergone surgery in order to correct it, the whole experience seems like a blur. I had ithe condition for at least five years before anyone was able to diagnose it properly. My symptoms started classically, with food "getting stuck" on the way down. I would choke on large bites of hamburger or fries. Anything dense and dry. How silly I was then. I thought it was because I was such a pure eater that I would choke on anything I wasn't "supposed" to have. Then when I started choking on healthy food like bananas and apples, I knew something was wrong.
I tried seeing a specialist, but the disease had not yet progressed to the point where it was possible to make a proper diagnosis. The gastroenterologist said it was gastric reflux, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I knew he was wrong, though. I never filled the anti-acid pills, for fear of beginning a downward spiral of medication, side-effects, more medication to treat the side-effects, and on and on into a medical nightmare. I'd seen that sort of thing happen to relatives and knew better. I told the doctor I'd heard about this disease called achalasia, but he quickly dismissed me: "that is a rare disease, and you don't have it".
For the next three years, I did nothing. The choking became more and more frequent. Finally, it progressed to the point where I could'nt eat a whole meal anymore without choking. then suddenly I couldn't hold anything down. I quickly learned to regurgitate food when it wouldn't go down, in order to save my sanity. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning with remnants of the previous evening's dinner in my throat. That's when the diagnosis was made, first by measuring the strength of the contractions of my esophageal muscle (none) and then by photographing a radioactive isotope for twenty minutes as I tried in vain to swallow it.
I'll never forget the day I was given the gift of my diagnosis. "Achalasia", I would say to myself, as if it was the name of my lover. Honestly it felt like a gift. For so many years, I prayed to God to give me something to control my eating, and make me lose weight. I lost twenty pounds with Achalasia. Thank you Jesus. The doctors gave me a pill that would make my esophageal muscle relax, so I could eat. Then it was the best of both worlds. If I wanted to lose a couple of pounds, I didn't take any medicine for a couple of days. On my birthday, I took two pills, and feasted (and got a headachey side-effect as the pills lowered my blood pressure).
But the pills didn't always work. Sometimes I would take a pill and not be able to swallow. That's when it started to get a little bit scarey. I found a support group on yahoo, and read nearly every message written there on the subject. That was my greatest help, and where I'd learn what could happen if I ignored this condition. Many folks learn to live with this disease. Problem is, the esophagus can get stretched all out of shape from being filled up all the time and not emptied. In many cases, people have needed thier entire esophagus removed. Knowing that could be me in five or ten years, I opted to have the surgery now.
And already, after only four days, I feel so much better! I can swallow. Soup, water, juice, mashed up banana, guacamole. Doctor says I can eat small meals of soft, wet foods. After three weeks, I can start to eat normal foods again -- raw veggies, and tortilla chips.
In the meantime, here is a beautifuly sunny day I can use for reading, writing, dreaming, chatting on the phone with friends, and planning how to keep the weight off.
Life is good.
Outside it's warm and sunny. Unusual for early July in British Columbia. A welcome change, however, from the cold rain and wind we've been having. I'm always surprised when people say it should be warm this time of year. As if it should be summer simply because the calendar says so. I know how the weather is this time of year, because it's my birthday season. The actual date of my birthday is June 29th, and it is rarely ever warm and sunny on that day. Up until recently, I used to get disappointed, and take it personally when it would rain or cloud over on my day. I thought it was because I wasn't worthy, or didn't deserve sunshine on my day. What a silly goose.
I wish I could go outside and go for a walk, but I'm not quite ready to do that yet. Probably this afternoon I'll be ready. My breathing is a bit shallow, taking a full breath is quite an effort, but I must remember to do so, in order to help my recovery. Hospital discharge papers say I have two complications to my surgery - Anxiety and Pneumothorax. I know about anxiety. Not enough to ever have taken prescribed medication - just self-administered, mostly in the form of chocolate, and cheese. Pneumothorax is another thing entirely. Initially I thought it meant pneumonia, and thought that was why they gave me so many antibiotics. But then I googled it, and learn it means collapsed lung. I must ask my surgeon about it. Apparently it's no big deal, however, as I was sent home after only 36 hours in hospital.
Speaking of anxiety - I was so looking forward to receiving morphine in the hospital. I thought it was some sort of secret euphoric drug available only under special circumstances when you were really sick or lucky. For me it was a nightmare - the night nurse gave me 5 times the dose the evening nurse did. She drugged me up and then surfed the internet all night (I was in a huge room with six other patients so her computer was right in my sight). I was too out of it to care and besides, what do I care anyway? The point is, morphine turned out not to be the new friend I was so excited to meet.
Achalasia is a very strange disease. Even now, having undergone surgery in order to correct it, the whole experience seems like a blur. I had ithe condition for at least five years before anyone was able to diagnose it properly. My symptoms started classically, with food "getting stuck" on the way down. I would choke on large bites of hamburger or fries. Anything dense and dry. How silly I was then. I thought it was because I was such a pure eater that I would choke on anything I wasn't "supposed" to have. Then when I started choking on healthy food like bananas and apples, I knew something was wrong.
I tried seeing a specialist, but the disease had not yet progressed to the point where it was possible to make a proper diagnosis. The gastroenterologist said it was gastric reflux, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I knew he was wrong, though. I never filled the anti-acid pills, for fear of beginning a downward spiral of medication, side-effects, more medication to treat the side-effects, and on and on into a medical nightmare. I'd seen that sort of thing happen to relatives and knew better. I told the doctor I'd heard about this disease called achalasia, but he quickly dismissed me: "that is a rare disease, and you don't have it".
For the next three years, I did nothing. The choking became more and more frequent. Finally, it progressed to the point where I could'nt eat a whole meal anymore without choking. then suddenly I couldn't hold anything down. I quickly learned to regurgitate food when it wouldn't go down, in order to save my sanity. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning with remnants of the previous evening's dinner in my throat. That's when the diagnosis was made, first by measuring the strength of the contractions of my esophageal muscle (none) and then by photographing a radioactive isotope for twenty minutes as I tried in vain to swallow it.
I'll never forget the day I was given the gift of my diagnosis. "Achalasia", I would say to myself, as if it was the name of my lover. Honestly it felt like a gift. For so many years, I prayed to God to give me something to control my eating, and make me lose weight. I lost twenty pounds with Achalasia. Thank you Jesus. The doctors gave me a pill that would make my esophageal muscle relax, so I could eat. Then it was the best of both worlds. If I wanted to lose a couple of pounds, I didn't take any medicine for a couple of days. On my birthday, I took two pills, and feasted (and got a headachey side-effect as the pills lowered my blood pressure).
But the pills didn't always work. Sometimes I would take a pill and not be able to swallow. That's when it started to get a little bit scarey. I found a support group on yahoo, and read nearly every message written there on the subject. That was my greatest help, and where I'd learn what could happen if I ignored this condition. Many folks learn to live with this disease. Problem is, the esophagus can get stretched all out of shape from being filled up all the time and not emptied. In many cases, people have needed thier entire esophagus removed. Knowing that could be me in five or ten years, I opted to have the surgery now.
And already, after only four days, I feel so much better! I can swallow. Soup, water, juice, mashed up banana, guacamole. Doctor says I can eat small meals of soft, wet foods. After three weeks, I can start to eat normal foods again -- raw veggies, and tortilla chips.
In the meantime, here is a beautifuly sunny day I can use for reading, writing, dreaming, chatting on the phone with friends, and planning how to keep the weight off.
Life is good.
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