Anniversaries

Two years ago.  Right now,  Me, lying in a hospital bed in SICU after ten hours of anaethesia.  Me with a ten inch wound stiched up in my head. Me somewhat lucid, but not really. 

Me, two years ago, on this day (ok techincally yesterday, but I haven't gone to bed yet).  A hole drilled in my skull.  Two teams of surgeons working to get that thing out.  Finding that it was double the size they saw on the scan.  My family.  For ten hours, waiting to hear if I'm ok.  Me, Unconcious. 

I wake up,  I see my husband.  I see my mom and dad.  I see my brother.   I ask for Vince.  Who the fuck is Vince??  My mother in law was at the foot of my stretcher, but I was so out of it, I didn't know untill later. 

My neuro surgeon said he would patch the hole in my skull with artificial material.  After the surgery he said my bone fit back in so he put it back. 

I had some amazing nurses.  Some understood pain and helped me deal by giving small doses often so it never wore off.  Some didn't care about me as a person and followed protocol. 

It was very eerie to be complimented on my tattoos.  The ones that don't show with clothes on.  I have a hard time thinking about how I was manipulated while knocked out. 

I have three titanium plates and 12 screws in my skull now. 
No, I don't set off metal detectors.  (I have to admit I was totally bummed by that)

I was, at this moment two years ago, most likely in and out of consiousness, but very aware that my surgery was a success.  The tumor was dead. 

Two years is when they say you really start healing.  I'm going to count from here.  My further surgeries were just to fix things.  not to rid me of the cause of my years in pain.  This surgery, two years ago, was the beginning of a new (and difficult) life for me. 

I'm ready to move on now. 

I am ready to reclaim myself.