I have 5 friends going through Decompression surgery within 5 days of each other. Or at least planned to……. there have been a few hiccups already with not enough beds and emergencies taking priority.

However, I have been party to and thankfully involved in their preparation for readiness as they are active members of the Chiari Forum.

I have already described the journey from symptoms through diagnosis onto treatment then progressing through to recovery and dealing with any residual symptoms amongst the rest of the personal carnage in between as an “emotional roller coaster” well, within that roller coaster, there are also mini “fairground rides” going on.

My own leading immediately up to surgery was one that I basically faced alone, as I had never really discussed it with anyone outside of my immediate family – even then I rarely discuss my personal feelings anyway. I used to just hide them well…….

I went through diagnosis and the following Neurosurgeon appointments and pre-op assessment with a kind of natural, mechanical attitude. Collecting information, agreeing to have surgery because it was the logical thing to do, and making preparations for the approximate time when I was due to be away from home.

It felt like it wasn’t happening to me, that I was at work setting up a sales appointment and doing the preparation for it – it felt truly impersonal.

I was even chasing my NS Secretary for a date with the same attitude.

All of this changed when I got my date for surgery – suddenly it all felt very real and personal indeed. It was like in the films when they dramatise realisation by doing a backwards flash forward visualising your whole life flash before your eyes……

Suddenly I felt that I was in a pretty scary place, I realised that there was actual real risk to surgery, that I was going to be in pain, that I was going to have an 8 inch hole in the back of my head through which they were going to remove a part of my skull. I envisaged the old Victorian surgical instruments and all kinds of stuff.

This went on for a good few days and I often found myself drifting away with my own thoughts about the risks and how awful it was going to be.

Then suddenly something changed. It was like a switch being flicked inside my head from fear to practical. I started to get my bag packed with slippers, pyjamas and toiletries. I started to make a list of what I would need to take with me, MP3 player (I started to get the playlist sorted), spare batteries. I bought Mega Vitamin C, Arnica and bottled water to take with me. I even looked at what food my wife could bring in for me as I knew hospital food wasn't going to agree with me. I was micro planning.

I was still weeks away from my date, and each and every day that it got closer I became more and more excited about it.

Yes, I said “excited” ! You read that correctly.

When the day came I had to ring the hospital after midday to check my bed was ready. I was calm and collected and back to the mechanical attitude. When they told me that there wasn’t a bed, I actually felt disappointed – There was later in the day though so I was told to get there around 6pm.

I actually spent the rest of the afternoon in the pub with my wife having a meal and a few beers. Hiding the celebratory Mohawk haircut that I decided to give myself before I went in – well they were going to shave the back of my head anyway, so I decided to have a little fun.

We got to the hospital and I was calm, even on the ward I was calm and chatty. I was still actually feeling excited about it all.

I worked it out, I think I was excited at the prospect of coming out the other side feeling much better than I had began to feel a month or so earlier. My symptoms had worsened severely just before surgery.

Even the following morning when I woke up I was calm, all the way through the visits in the morning by everyone and their dog – even when they wheeled me into the pre-op room and started to prep me.

I guess that I had looked at the practical and logical reasons for having the surgery and decided that it was the right thing to do and that I could not do anything about stopping it – so what was the point stressing about it?

I have seen all 5 of my friends go through the same emotional process this week, and alongside the others that have been through surgery, have been able to assure them that the worrying stage is natural, followed by the practical one (some missed this out and were still packing as they left the house) then onto the excitement (or at least calm acceptance) stage. Each and every one has gone through each one, it only natural and is human nature.

Of course it is great being on the other side knowing that I felt really very good when I came out of surgery, and that it wasn’t nearly as bad or painful as I had been lead to believe.

I am glad though that I have been able to help them in some way. It allows me to be able to pay back some of the wonderful support that I got from the people on that forum when I first joined. It feel’s great to help put peoples minds at rest and to sit next to them whilst their own rollercoaster is going round.

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