Things I Learned While Prepping for Back Surgery

There’s a walker standing by the front door and a toilet riser in my bathroom. All my prepping for back surgery seemed like something happening far in the future, but surgery is in Tuesday and the reality has hit home. Hard.

In less than 48 hours, I will be fixed. I mean, could the surgery be less successful than I hope? Yes, but I’m not going there. I’m putting it out there over and over: my back will be fixed with this surgery.

When I get out of the hospital bed on Tuesday evening, I’m going to be in pain, but it’s going to be a different kind of pain. It won’t be this fiery pokery in my backside or down my legs, or the near-constant clenching of muscles deep in my buttocks. (I’m being real here. That’s where that clenching happens, like I’ve got a TENS unit in there on serious overload. It’s awful, and it hits so hard, so sudden, and so unpredictably that it’s a conscious effort to not make an audible sound. The restraint and focus it takes when out in public is so intense, I have to stop caring when I’m home. It’s exhausting.) It’ll be surgery pain and it will dissipate. I’m so ready.

I cannot wait to have this surgery and get it behind me so I can get on to recovery. I’m so tired of the constant pain, the lack of mobility, and how it’s affecting my entire life, both at home and when socializing. (I work at home, so thankfully, I’m rarely seen by colleagues, a fact which I’ve learned is something to be very grateful for.)

So that leads me to the list of things I’ve learned while waiting prepping for back surgery. (If you haven’t read my prior post, you can find it here, but in short, I’m having a laminectomy and decompression of L4-L5, and likely a fusion, unless the spine is surprisingly stable…which my surgeon has said is unlikely. Honestly though, I don’t want to be back in the hospital in a few months having a second surgery, so if there’s any doubt, I want the whole shebang done now.)

It’s an interesting list, not just practical things but emotional things, relationship things, and things about myself. Let’s dive in.

Things I’ve Learned While Prepping for Back Surgery

I can be a really social person, but truth be told, I’m fine with a small core group of people I trust. I’m great at parties where I don’t know people, but happiest when I know the other guests. I have a lot of friends, but my inner circle is where I focus most of my time. I feel like this is becoming more and more the norm with other women I’ve met in midlife. We have less tolerance for drama, gossip, or flakes. That means it can be harder to make friends, because we know more about what we want out of relationships.

This plays into the first thing I learned the last couple of months, something that’s not on any surgery prep list: how to deal with friends that aren’t great at providing the support you’d expect with that relationship.

Facing a major surgery, which, by the way, isn’t just brain surgery or organ transplant, has a way of making your reprioritize. For me, it’s not even an issue of a mortality concern. It’s more of the basics. I am focused on making sure I get business handled for the surgery (paperwork, pre-authorizations, appointment scheduling, pre-op clearance) and leaving the hubs and son a list of things to do while I’m unable, like watering plants or starting my car since it’ll sit for a while.

I’m focused on ordering all the gear I’ll need for after the surgery, like that walker and toilet seat riser, bidets (which the hubs handled, but I still had to put it on the list), body pillows, a grabber, a shower seat…the list goes on.

Getting client work done in advance is a big task, and then there are things like seeing people or doing things I can’t do for a while, because I can’t drive for at least three weeks, and it’s unlikely I’ll want to anyway. I’ll miss going to the winery, hitting up my favorite lunch spot, or having dinner out. I miss going to yoga SO much. Naturally, I’ve tried to do these things as often as possible over the last few weeks — though I did have to stop yoga three weeks ago, it’s too painful to do anything more than restorative.

These past few days though, I’ve stayed home. I want to avoid catching anything. My days of wine and shopping and sushi are done for a while now. I’ve had some amazing people ask me to go out with them for one last hurrah before the big day, and it’s been such a mood booster. It’s great to know people love you and care about you, and of course, I’ll <almost> never turn down a happy hour or wine tasting opportunity. I’m so thankful for them.

And no, that’s not us. My hair looks less than I’d like it to. I just haven’t had the ability to handle my curls/waves as I normally would, so I vanity is still exists and I’m not sharing the photos.

I’m also thankful for those who see the things I’m not saying, like the fact this surgery rightfully scares me, that this surgery is putting my life on hold, and that it’s impacting not just me, but my whole family. Everyone’s schedule is working around it, and I’m unable to cook dinner, run errands, or even sometimes, bend down to fill the dogs’ food bowls. It’s no heart transplant, but it’s my spine. If things go as expected, I’ll have metal in my back and a couple of scars, as the bone graft will come from my iliac crest. It’s a long recovery period, and the first week or two, a painful one.

I’d be silly if I didn’t consider all of this. I have woken up a couple of times at night wondering ‘am I doing the right thing?’ I mean, women corner the market on midnight musings that we see as nonsensical when we wake up, and this is another one of those things. This surgery isn’t elective. I mean, I could go without it, but I can’t get up the stairs without walking like Mowgli, and I can’t sit in a chair without cursing. What kind of life is that? And then if I don’t do it, I risk permanent injury.

I’ve researched, I’ve considered, I’ve done all the work I should before I sign on the dotted line, and I know I’m doing the right thing, even if Sally the Natural Mom thinks rubbing oils on it will somehow magically remove the cyst and enlarge my spinal canal. (That’s not a thing, fyi, if you have a Sally in your life.)

I have a Sally who thinks I shouldn’t do the surgery. However, Sally can walk up her stairs, ride a bike, go zip lining and get her groceries without needing the cart to hold her up. It’s easy for her to have an uninformed opinion; it’s harder for me to ignore it when she makes sure I hear it.

So I’ve learned that not only do some natural moms think they know better than my surgeon, or me, but some people in general don’t handle heavy well. Conversations shut down when you share a concern about surgery, so I learned quickly on, don’t share it. Not everyone really wants an answer when they say “how are you?”

Those with empathy seem to get that this whole back surgery idea can be terrifying. They get that I’m less interested in the normal things in life, and that I don’t have the bandwidth to take on their issues. I can’t have additional problems laid in my lap right now when I’m trying to make sure I don’t forget something critical for post-surgery. They also get that I want to continue to stay social as long as possible, and that I may not be the person for them to come to as a listening ear, and that if I miss a moment in their lives, they don’t hold it against me.

It’s a true effort getting through the day when you’re in constant pain.

I’ve been surprised that a couple of people that I would have thought were ride or die have backed off. It’s as though my surgery doesn’t exist, as though they can’t even consider what I’m going through, because it takes the topic off of their own life or who knows why. I feel like a pretty thoughtful person, the one who remembers your big days and addresses them appropriately. Am I perfect? No….but I do try, and I’d never blow off someone’s surgery without a solid even more pressing issue on my own end.

So lesson one: don’t expect people to treat you as you’d treat them if THEY were the ones going through major surgery. Some people are self-centered and others are just incapable of knowing what to say, so they say nothing. And then there are others who don’t want to feel obligated in any way so they downplay your situation. It’s disappointing, and surprising, but it’s also taught me a lot about people. It’s helped me to see where to invest my time in the future, and that’s a gift in the long run. No more giving up my time and money where it’s not appreciated…because supporting someone going through major surgery is always a time where a friend shows up, even if it’s by text. (But if you’re local, a happy hour or lunch out is even cooler.)

The second thing I’ve learned while prepping for back surgery? You do a lot more in life than you think you normally do. When you start making lists of things you need someone to do in your place, I promise you, you are a far more valued and important and productive person than you think on a daily basis. Feeling stuck in midlife, or feeling undervalued? Make a list, surgery or not. It’s eye-opening.

The third thing, in no particular order? You have people in your corner you hadn’t considered when sharing your news. They will show up. They will bring flowers to your house. They will text your husband to see how things are going. They will text you to see how you’re feeling — and they’ll mean it.

The next? I waste a lot of time on dumb things: social media, worrying that I will gain a few pounds while recuperating, worst-case scenarios of things that will never happen. Those things also stress me out unnecessarily. I don’t need to read about what’s going on in the world as I’m trying to relax my clenching muscles, however minimally. And no, that’s not privilege; it’s smart. I’m no good to anyone if I’m not trying to get healthy, and I can’t get to, and through, this surgery if I’m not in a good mental space.

Back to Sally, because Sally chapped my hide. There are a lot of surgeons out there without medical degrees. Who knew? Don’t let Natural Sally scare you about your proactive decision. Tune her out. Not only will you see a lot of hypocrisy, but you’ll waste time defending your choice, which on a bad day can make you second-guess yourself. You don’t deserve that. My Sally asked me one question about my surgery — and oddly enough, it wasn’t ‘what kind of surgery?’ or ‘what exactly is your issue?’ — and got super-judgy. She wanted to hear nothing else about it.

What did I do to Sally? Naturally, I talked about my surgery more. I didn’t justify or even explain what it was or why, but I refused to let her inability to be kind mean I had to avoid the topic. Her discomfort is not mine nor does it get to dismiss my circumstances. As expected, Sally backed away…only temporarily, but we’ll never be the same. People can quietly have different thoughts about back surgery, or whatever, but to have the audacity to think their opinion outranks mine, or is somehow superior…it’s so hard to understand.

Being in my corner doesn’t mean agreeing with everything in my life, but it does mean supporting me during a health crisis regardless. This includes ‘how are you feeling?’ and ‘I will check in after you’re home to see when I can come see you.’ It is also ‘I want to see you before your surgery, so how about we go grab lunch?’ I don’t expect people to go out of their way, but I do expect genuine sincerity; it’s the least good friends can do for each other.

I didn’t tell a lot of people about my surgery. I don’t dump my problems on people in general. Everyone has their own lives and problems and happy things going on, and we’ve got things pretty settled.

In general, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve been saddened by Sally and anyone who went radio silent or changed the subject when I mentioned surgery. I’m bummed that people I respected and thought better of showed me how wrong I was.

When people show you who they are, believe them.

I think there’s that ‘we’ll just pick this friendship up later’ vibe, but I can honestly, and easily, say that it won’t be the case. The red flags don’t get anymore red, and I won’t ignore them any further.

I’m happy realizing how much more of a purpose I actually have in life than what I thought. Nothing drives that home more than not being able to do those things. Having a lot of forced time to think and to plan for after surgery clears up a lot of confusion. That’s another gift.

I’m productive, strong, and no longer wasting time on dumb things. What a relief! I can do that with the knowledge that I’m surrounded by amazing people. I’m far more supported than I realized, even if we don’t get together often — or at all. Another gift!

Not everyone knows what to do when a friend goes through something, but everyone knows how to say ‘how are you?’ Let that be your big takeaway; don’t overthink it, but at least require the basics with your friends. If they’re only with you for the fun things, should they be with you the rest of the time?

Tonight is my last regular evening, as tomorrow night, I have to stop eating early. No wine today or tomorrow of course, and tomorrow will be spent making sure my hospital bag is ready and that I get my laundry done so everything I need is clean and ready for when I get home. We even have to change the sheets tomorrow night, per surgical instructions. And then there’s that fun Hibiclens wash! We head out at 415am on Tuesday, leaving the dogs in my son’s very capable hands. Sniff, I will miss my baby girls while I’m away! Hopefully all goes well with my recovery and I’ll be back at home three days later.

If you’re prepping for back surgery, be kind to yourself. Don’t stress about things you can’t control, and limit what you’re exposed to, both figuratively and literally. Get yourself the gear you need to be comfortable after, and shut out the world so you can focus on recovery. It’s not selfish at all to make yourself your center, and anyone worth anything would agree.

Please visit my blog again soon! When I can, I’ll update progress. My blog and socials have taken a bit of a back seat the last three months. I just only have so much energy. (And sitting in a car too long makes the pain increase, so I’ve turned down a lot of events, invites, and opportunities. I hate doing it, but I’m no good if I show up and I can’t sit down.)