How many people can look back in their life span and pinpoint the exact moments that changed their life forever? Whether it is for the good or bad, many people have had, or will have these life altering experiences. I’ve heard many people describe such moments after they have survived a terrible car accident, walked away after tough hit during a football game, stood on stage and performed in front of a live audience, or helped someone else fulfill a difficult task.
I can remember that cold October morning like it was yesterday, the morning sun was beaming on me with an excellence like I had never experienced before. There seemed to be an overwhelming crispness in the air that would cling tight to the inside of your lungs, and the aroma of pumpkin spice filled everywhere I went.
I had left my house thousands of times before, but this particular morning was by far one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. Home is where I’ve always come to feel safe, to feel peace, and to experience pure joy. I remember waking up to my little sister Makenna crying. She was now old enough to understand what was about to happen to her older sister. This time it wasn’t just a story that was told, this time it was real. My family surrounded me as I got ready that morning; they seemed to be mimicking my every step. I could tell that my Mother was trying her hardest not to cry. I think it was her vulnerability that made me feel stronger, she was worried enough for the both of us. If I fell apart, everyone would fall apart with me. I had to remain strong.
Driving towards the hospital that morning, I made a promise to myself that I was going to be a big girl. I was no longer the little five year old that used to be scared to walk through the rotating doors of the front lobby. I was sixteen this time around, and I had already conquered this life trial many times before. The moments leading up to my arrival at the hospital felt like a lifetime – everything seemed to be playing in slow motion. I still remember the color of leaves on the trees, the carved pumpkins on the front porches, and all of the archaic Halloween decorations that overflowed on the front lawns of the old familiar houses.
Walking into Primary Children’s Medical Center I was unbelievably calm, with each step I took I was able to recall every memory I had ever made over the past 16 years within the walls that surrounded me. As I stepped into the front lobby I thought back to the days I would sit and play with the toy train set that surrounds the fish tank. It’s crazy how much larger that same exact fish tank seemed to be when I was a younger child. Walking pass the x-ray room I can still recall the time a nurse dressed up in a Winnie The Pooh costume to help me calm down enough so that the doctors could get the many IVs hooked up into my little body. With every hall I passed, I was that much closer to the operating table.
Before changing into the hospital gown, a nurse pulled me aside to give me some medication called Valium. This medication is often prescribed to patients before surgery to help calm down their nerves. I couldn’t believe that all of this was actually happening. It felt like a dream, a dream that I wanted to wake up from so badly, but nothing seemed to be able to shake this off. As I changed into that dreaded, pale blue gown I felt the effects of the medication starting to take its toll on my body. My parents’ speech all the sudden started sounding much slower and the frequency of their voices seemed to be at a much lower vibration, almost as if they were softly humming back and forth with one another. I could no longer depict the words they were saying from a distance.
As I walked out of the dressing room, I remember thinking to myself… “Ok, this is it.” Or as my Dad would say, “It’s show time.” Before proceeding into the operating room I was wrapped in a warm blanket and asked to sit in one of the many empty chairs that lined both sides of the hallway while my parents talked with the surgeon. As I willingly sat there, I watched a young family wait patiently for their newborn baby to come out of the operating room. Quietly, I absorbed every move they made; I couldn’t help but notice all the raw emotions that were so bluntly written all over there exhausted faces. Trust, sadness, anxiety, fear, love, hope and anticipation kept replaying in my mind over and over again. It made me think of my parents just a few short years prior to this exact day. I often wondered what they went through while I was young infant, and I never wanted to imagine that is what they would look like.
My Father grabbed my hand and said, “It’s now or never baby doll, lets go.” As I lay there motionless on the operating table, I remember a calming numbness crept over my body, I knew that everything was going to be alright. I had one of the four surgeons in the country operating on me, that had completed this surgery successfully. And, I was trusting him with my life. After my parents gave me a hug and kiss goodbye, my anesthesiologist noticed I was getting emotional and immediately decided that we were going to play a game. He bet that I couldn’t count all the way to ten with him. I slowly started counting along with him, “One-one thousand, two- one thousand, three-one thousand, four…” I was out.
The next thing I know, I am waking up to see three doctors holding clipboards staring at different computer screens. My Dad like usual, is standing over all three of their shoulders trying to figure out what all the charts mean. My mom is sitting along side of me holding my hand, and my Grandparents are welcoming me back with warm smiles. I had survived. I survived open-heart surgery for the fifth time in my short sixteen years on this earth. It was in that exact moment that I knew I was going to appreciate everyday given to me for the rest of my life. It was in only doing that, which I would be able to fully appreciate what my surgeon had done for me.
It took months for me to make the full recovery. Slowly, but surely I made it. During those few months of my mom constantly taking care of me, it made my appreciation and love grow for her immensely. It’s hard to have full gratitude for your independence until it’s taken away from you. There isn’t a day that goes by that I am not reminded of the strength I have within me. The six-inch scar greats me everyday with a smile that is almost saying, “Welcome to the darling, today you get to live” Words can’t describe the amounts of happiness I have for my ability to do almost everything most twenty year olds my age do. It was those few moments that forever changed who I am supposed to be.