Surgery, Recovery and Depression

"Ok Raven! I have come to explain what exactly the aortic root is etc. and about mitral valve prolapse,"he said kindly. I nod solemnly.

"Ok! This picture shows the aorta and if you have an aneurysm so this should help you understand where it is. So an aneurysm or an aortic dissection which is like a cause and effect, an aneurysm doesn't exist without a dissection and vice versa. So the aorta is a large blood vessel that carries blood from the heart to the body. The aortic root is near where the heart and aorta connect. So this can cause you to have a heart attack, surgery is the best treatment for it!"he said seriously but with kindness evident. I just nod.

"Ok! Mitral valve prolapse is when some blood flows backward through the mitral valve with each heart beat so with you it's more severe. You could end up having congestive heart failure and that's really bad!"he said kindly.

"So what now?"I asked worried. "Well, we will do the aortic root first since it's the deadliest and then later we will do the mitral valve prolapse surgery, after you recover nicely from the first surgery,"he said like it was so simple. My heart was pounding, my stomach churning, I felt nauseous. I stare at him in horror, my heart feeling the heavy burden that it's bearing. I feel absolutely pale, frail and broken everywhere.

As soon as the doctor leaves, I sob, I get up to get some water. I soon fall face down, I later hear a nurse scream. I feel myself being lifted into the hospital, my heart checked for another sign of a heart attack. "No sign of a heart attack, strange. She's fainting for no obvious reason. This child is either really sick or sick in her head,"she said thinking I'm not listening. She walks out.

I awake soon after and silent tears fall. My parents don't come at all or at least I'm not informed. I'm later rolled into the surgery room, I'm injected with the anesthetic and I go into the darkness for the thousandth time.

I awake again in a bed, I'm wondering where I am. I've got no one to remind me where I am, cause no one is here. I'm in the ICU. A nurse comes in and says, "Oh thank god you're fine. I thought after they resuscitated you that you'd die,"she said happily. My eyes widen and then she realizes that she said it out loud.

"Oh I'm so sorry,"she said worriedly. I calm myself down because I know that she's probably new so I sigh deeply and cry. I think to myself, how many times am I going to die before it's over or someone believes me. "Hello! I'm sorry for her abruptness! The doctors have concluded 'your fainting induces or is a sign of a heart attack'. I apologize again about the new recruit she's too much of a talker,"she said sweetly but with anger evident in her eyes and her fake happiness. I smile and nod. If I don't start speaking I'm going to forget how to speak.

I try to stay awake but I fail miserably. By the time I wake up, my family is standing around me. I smile sadly, I just wish they could see what I feel everyday. I know that most who see me wouldn't believe it. I'm recovering right now, but I feel that I should explain more, in terms that you will understand.

I'm a normal average girl, imagine me as yourself, I look like you, I go to school like you and I have a family, just, like you do. Now, think about it, if everyday you had some sort of injury, like a sprain, dislocation or the worst pain you have ever experienced, all over your body. You walk around with it the whole day, looking normal, you have nothing on you that shows that you have been injured. You walk up those stairs in school, work or college; you carry your bag to and from those places.

Now, you also have to cook, clean, take care of a family etc., anything you can think of. All these everyday things that we have to do, are painful and unbearable. The things you enjoy are not automatically still enjoyable and pain free. So, sports, walks, horse riding, drawing, writing, painting and cooking, all become one big burden, a chore.

I stared right at my family and thought all these things, I start to sob. For once in a long time, I see that they understand that I am not ok. "Honey, I'm so sorry! I know I never believed you; I will stand by you now, I promise!" my mum said genuinely. I sigh and see both, my brother and father feeling so guilty. I see their downtrodden and depressed faces asking for forgiveness. "Guys, it's ok. I just hope you believe me now," I said even though it is and was very hard to be the only one believing in something that seemed so far fetched.

I wake up the next day, I get up from my bed to stretch, but I feel very dizzy. I hold tightly onto my hospital bed until it fades away. A nurse comes in and looks at me worried. "Are you ok ma'am?" she asked sweetly. I nod politely. My heart is pounding like a hammer in my chest, the sound traveling up to my ears and piercing my brain. I sigh deeply. She helps me to the bathroom, I enter alone, she waits patiently outside. I drag myself to get myself out of there and back to the very unwelcoming, depressing and vile looking room. I have become so accustomed to it, it scares me.

I walk to my flat, white bed. The colours of the outside world seem to be forgotten. White is all I see and it's all I don't want to see. I lie on my bed and think about all the things that could have been a sign of this. I always had a problem with walking long, my ankles always pained, I had 'growing pains', and I always had problems.

While sitting there and thinking, my mind spinning, I think about genetics. The idea of that concept has never been questioned. The fact is, genetics is the study of diseases passed from one family to another, hereditary disorders. I start to think and dwell on the idea. Adam and Eve had no illnesses, nothing to pass from one family member to the next. Basically, genetic disorders shouldn't be limited to family history, whether another family member has what I have. At some point, the gene that is passed now wasn't in existence so it had to be created, so logically speaking, anyone can get a genetic disorder if your body decides to make that mutation.

My thoughts are always complicated. As I sit in the lonesome room, I realize that I have no social life like I used to have. I used to be out with friends all the time, happy, enjoying everyday life. Sadly, friends run away when they realize that you are defective. I cry silent tears, no sobs, no deep breathing, nothing.

My recovery takes months, I miss most of school so I decided to drop out. My parents are furious about the idea but as soon as the doctor realized my amazing choice, he agreed profusely. They immediately were on board when the doctor agreed, not me, so I realized that talking to my parents through my doctor is the best choice.

During those months, I don't leave the hospital for a second. Now, I'm doing physiotherapy to make sure that my heart is ok with exercise. I walk the treadmill, that's fine! I walk the stairs, I nearly collapse! I run, I start gasping for air. I walk the next day, I can't breath at all. "Hello Raven! We have some arrangements to talk about. So the next surgery will be in 3 months time. School will have to be postponed. You will have to wear a oxygen tube, most of the time. Does standing up bother you?"he asked sincerely.

I nod. I haven't talked in a long time. I'm kinda scared to hear my own voice. "Ok! We're getting there Raven, don't you worry,"he said kindly. I smile genuinely. Recovery takes long, even though I'm recovered, I can't do as much as I used to do. The doctors are looking at some options but we have none for now. I sigh. "You're going to go home today but not without that oxygen tube,"he said kindly.

My parents are waiting as soon as I step out the hospital door, they're banned from the hospital while I'm in there unless allowed in by me. "Come on Raven, home time!"my mum said happily. Groggily, I pull myself into the car carrying my oxygen tank-thing.

No one decides to help me, I nearly collapse. My older brother grabs ahold of me just before I lose all my senses. Just as the weight is lifted, I come back to the land of the living. My dad sighs and my mum rolls her eyes.

"We're going to a physiotherapist today, so we won't have to travel this far for an appointment,"my dad said seriously. I sighed. We made it to the physiotherapist that they paid so much for, only to find out it's a psychologist. They sigh and say, "You're still going. We paid a lot." I then go in and wait for something I didn't even plan to do.