Until it was all over, I had no idea how close I came to dying a year ago today.
It was supposed to be routine surgery. I was supposed to go home that afternoon. But surgery that was supposed to last for 30 minutes went on for hours. My gallbladder was so “diseased” — the surgeon’s word — that it was breaking apart during surgery. He said I could have died from sepsis.
I was recovering from the surgery Sunday afternoon — still assuming everything had gone normally — when the surgeon came to visit me and explain how lucky I had been.
Nurses and doctors told me I should take a couple of weeks to recover because of the unexpected complexity of the surgery, but I was back at work before the week was over. Others who had had the same surgery warned me that it would take months — maybe up to a year — before I felt right.
What nobody prepared me for was the emotional effect it had on me.
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone