Monday 6 October 2014

Under Pressure

When people think about operations, the first thing that springs to mind is physical discomfort. How much would it hurt? Do you wake up in agony? Do you feel really ill? And if you do, how long must you suffer before you get better? When it is you having the operation, your mind starts to run wild. Stupid questions start popping up like, "What if I don't fall asleep in the first place?" "What if I wake up half-way through?" "What if I never recover?!" What if, what if, what if...

Of course, most of these questions are entirely irrelevant. After all, on the whole, the surgeons do know what they're doing. "But what if they don't know what they're doing? What if they make a mistake? What if something goes horribly wrong?" Doubt seems to quickly become your best buddy. The devil perched on your opposite shoulder to reassurance. The nagging, irritating itch that demands to be tended to and has a hundred negative suggestions to counteract every one of your positive possibilities.

Personally, I got so caught up in all these concerns of how my surgery might impact upon my outer-self, that I totally neglected to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for what was about to happen. I think it's a common mistake. Medicine is all so scientific, full of those long words you can't pronounce and certain procedures you have no chance of comprehending if you tried. It's all so practical and logical, that you forget about the parts of yourself shrouded by more than a gown, which cannot be visually examined inside the operating theatre, nor heard through the intricate mechanism of a stethoscope. Yet, your feelings and emotions are in for just as much of a rollercoaster ride as your body and will likely be left equally a little bit beaten and bruised around the edges.

However, through this experience, I have learned that love can conquer any kind of pain.

The tight knotting sensation inside of my stomach when I woke up on the morning of my eye operation could only signify my first strong emotion of the experience - I was, without a doubt, nervous as hell! I have always believed that one of the worst parts of doing something you really don't want to do is the taunting anticipation beforehand - and well, I had many hours worth of that to endure! It is as though a computer fan has started up inside your tummy, whirring away and rapidly consuming all of your energy at an increasingly alarming rate. Your body tries to help you out, cooling you down with sweat and initiating those great long, deep sighs we let out to maximise our oxygen intake. Anyone who has been nervous for any amount of time will tell you how exhausting it is, even when you're simply sitting there, twiddling your thumbs - in fact, in some ways, that only makes matters worse...

Every now and then though, I would receive a message of good luck, thinking of you, best wishes. As I read them, I pictured the people behind the words. I thought about the times we had spent together; all the ways we have made each other laugh. For that little while, as I lost myself in memories, I forgot I was supposed to be petrified. I was smiling, a wide, wonderful smile that lifted my cheeks, heart and mind all at the same time. It was like taking a sip of some bewitching potion, whose effects are fleeting, yet incredible. Doubt fought back for my attention like a spoilt child, reminding me how much pain I might soon be facing, but this time reassurance whispered, "Keep smiling. For a start, love always wins. You're loved; you'll be okay."

When I came round from my anesthetic, (which, incidentally, had worked after all) both my eye and my emotions stung. It was then, as I lay there in a hospital bed for no other reason except the way I had been born, that I realised how silly I had been to worry so much about my physical wounds. Inside, a wave of sadness crashed over me and a stormy sea of lost prospects swirled around me in the darkness. The expectations I hold for myself have always been extremely high and the idea of a life with limitations overwhelmingly terrified me. 

The tide of negativity was getting too strong for me to swim against, I couldn't let my brain think any more. I reached for my phone, more as a distraction than anything else. I may have been sporting an eye-patch and showing an uncanny resemblance to a pirate right then, but I didn't need a map - I had already found my treasure. 

Beautiful words of encouragement and support threw me a rope and rescued me from my steadily sinking ship, wrapping me up tightly in their warmth. One eye was enough for me to make out how much people cared, how deeply they believed in me. From literally a few minutes beforehand when I had feared I had nothing left, now I miraculously felt like one of the luckiest and richest people alive. Perspective shone its captivating glow over everything and saved the day again, as I remembered a fact I have always lived by: Just because something is more of a challenge, it never means you can't achieve it. The only limits anyone truly has in life are those which we set for ourselves.

Doubt punished me with one abrupt, moody pang of pain across my face. Reassurance soothed my soul, "Let it hurt. In the end, love can never lose. Pain is just a temporary feeling; love will last you a life-time." 

     

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