Mellyouttaphase
Well-known member
I wasn't sure where to post this and it comes with a big disclaimer - it is quite personal and not particularly pretty. I really struggled emotionally in the days after my surgery. I thought I might share my experience on the chance that others hit a similar bump because I was caught by surprise. I hope this doesn't scare anyone away! Deep breath...
"When I woke up in ICU, I wasn't relieved. I was devastated. Devastated that I had made it through. Angry that I had hard work to do, knowing I will have to do it all again in the future. I had no choice but to recover this time around but I resolved that they wouldn't catch me again.
I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried. Whilst everyone on my ward was getting better, I was still thinking of ways out. I had never felt like this before, it was so confusing! I was disgusted in myself because I was supposed to be amazed at the marvels of modern medicine, grateful that I had been given this opportunity and thankful to live in Australia where Medicare picked up the tab. Instead I was caving in with waves of panic that my working body had been mutilated to never be the same again. How could they do this to me? How did I let this happen?!
I hated myself for hating my situation, what a privileged brat I must be! None of the other patients seemed to be so ungracious. "Suck it up! Your prognosis is through the roof - you're one of the lucky ones!" I decided that I must be some kind of vile human being. They should have given my taxpayer-funded operation and hospital stay to somebody more deserving.
Outwardly I put on as brave a face as possible, but when the the long nights came and the curtains closed I would wrap myself in sorrow and cry so loud it would bring the nurses in. I would sit up googling "post-surgical depression" and refuse pain relief, convinced it was making things worse. I was so scared that I would always feel like this that I was further winding myself up in fits of unnecessary emotion.
To my great relief, after a couple of weeks the lights gradually came back on and I have long since returned to my usual upbeat disposition. I still don't entirely understand my knee-jerk reaction though as this is particularly out of character for me. That said, I know I am fortunate that my dark hallway was only a short one. "
"When I woke up in ICU, I wasn't relieved. I was devastated. Devastated that I had made it through. Angry that I had hard work to do, knowing I will have to do it all again in the future. I had no choice but to recover this time around but I resolved that they wouldn't catch me again.
I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried. Whilst everyone on my ward was getting better, I was still thinking of ways out. I had never felt like this before, it was so confusing! I was disgusted in myself because I was supposed to be amazed at the marvels of modern medicine, grateful that I had been given this opportunity and thankful to live in Australia where Medicare picked up the tab. Instead I was caving in with waves of panic that my working body had been mutilated to never be the same again. How could they do this to me? How did I let this happen?!
I hated myself for hating my situation, what a privileged brat I must be! None of the other patients seemed to be so ungracious. "Suck it up! Your prognosis is through the roof - you're one of the lucky ones!" I decided that I must be some kind of vile human being. They should have given my taxpayer-funded operation and hospital stay to somebody more deserving.
Outwardly I put on as brave a face as possible, but when the the long nights came and the curtains closed I would wrap myself in sorrow and cry so loud it would bring the nurses in. I would sit up googling "post-surgical depression" and refuse pain relief, convinced it was making things worse. I was so scared that I would always feel like this that I was further winding myself up in fits of unnecessary emotion.
To my great relief, after a couple of weeks the lights gradually came back on and I have long since returned to my usual upbeat disposition. I still don't entirely understand my knee-jerk reaction though as this is particularly out of character for me. That said, I know I am fortunate that my dark hallway was only a short one. "
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