This is the second part of Jade's Chiari experience through surgery and beyond.

She really is one tough cookie and just a little bit stubborn. She has achieved brilliant results in such a short space of time and really shows just how much a Positive Mental Attitude and focus affects a persons recovery.

Well done Jade! Proud of you ;) And Thank you for sharing your story.

TREATMENT

As the reality of my diagnosis sunk in I worried about the WHAT IF’S, I really didn’t understand what was wrong with me or how it happened and the thought of surgery reduced me to tears on many nights, even now when thinking about the run up to surgery I get all teary….but maybe that’s a female thing!!

My first port of call after this was the computer shop where I bought a laptop with mobile internet, here is where my research began every moment I had I researched Chiari, the surgery and much more, it was pretty scary stuff and some of the American sites scared me silly. It wasn’t until I found the Chiari support UK website that I began to calm down and realised that it was possible to get back to almost NORMAL after surgery…some would say I never really was normal before. I owe a lot to the site and the people on it who provided me with answers I’d never have got and helped me prepare for surgery. I started to prepare myself for my time in hospital, I bought a few pillows, including a CHIARI pillow, my collection stands at 9 now!! I stocked up on all the essentials I thought I may need, vitamin C, arnica books and more pajamas!

I told work about my diagnosis, the Chiari, the surgery I was bombarded by question, police are very nosey I’ll have you know! I was told I’d have to be signed off until after my recovery when I’d be back to full health and fitness. I’m incredibly stubborn so tried to persuade my Inspector to let me remain on front line operational duties till the weekend before surgery…however he wouldn’t budge, we reached a compromise but I was office bound for the next 2 week! I tell you I went mad in there, was bombarded with more questions which kind of helped me in away as I talked about Chiari all the time and what was going to be happening to me.

I finished up on the Friday before surgery so I had the weekend to sit, stew and worry which is one of my worst habits. I cried a lot but put on a brave front for everyone close to me, I think only one person knew how scared I really was!

The night before surgery I didn’t sleep a wink which was worse than my normal disrupted sleep, my stomach was doing circuits and my headaches had somewhat worsened over the last couple of weeks, but I think that was stress related. Before I knew it, it was half 5 on Tuesday 18th August 2009 my parents were coming to pick me up just before 6 so we could travel to the Edinburgh Western General Hospital.

My parents arrived at 5 to six along with my 4 brothers, the car was packed and we all made our way to the hospital. Everyone was in goon spirits on the outside laughing and joking about me not being a very good patient, they were all worried, laughter and jokes is how I grew up hiding things that scared me.

I arrived at the hospital just before half 7 and we went to ward 33 only to be sent back down the stairs to ward 31! There I was sent to the ward waiting room where we waited for a long and agonising 30 minutes, when a ward administrator came through to take me to WARD 33!! This didn’t fill me with a lot of hope really!!

Eventually I was settled in to a single side room in ward 33 and I was quickly prepared for surgery in a lovely flattering backless gown and knee high socks…very fetching...I’ve kept a pair for memories sake!! I was visited by endless doctors, nurses and my anaesthetist who all asked the same questions, I felt like a parrot….could they not all come at the same time? A short time late I was told I’d been moved from 4th on the list to first!!! This was really happening and I was pretty scared!

At 9am a porter came to collect me and a nurse from the ward came too. I said bye to my parents and we left, I remember the trip to the theatre so well, it was freezing all the way down, why are operating theatres always on the ground floor! I was wheeled in it felt like a freezer. There where more people than I imagined in that room all in green scrubs. It was time to WIRE ME UP as it was so nicely put…I had to smile at that! I was so cold and shivering so much they couldn’t find a vein and at that point I realised I was to become a living pin cushion, I was put under a lovely blanket that blew out hot air to try and warm me up and make it easier to find a vein, still I came under attack of the needles until they were finally successful after a few attempts after that I don’t remember a thing.

The next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room, it was like waking up from a dream not really remembering where I was and then it all gradually came back to me. Looking up I saw a clock it was 1.30pm, I felt like I was on another planet though I wasn’t in much pain, a nurse sitting next to me was saying it had all gone well and asked me if I wanted some water…my mouth felt so so dry but I couldn’t lift my head to drink, I was given a water soaked sponge. I must have been in there for a while drifting in and out of sleep. I eventually woke up while being wheeled to the HDU at 3pm, it wasn’t the most comfortable rides I’ve ever been on!

My parents were there but I was so sleepy and my head felt like a lead weight I couldn’t move and didn’t have the energy to talk. I had a morphine driver which was good, my head was beginning to hurt a lot, it took me a while to get the grip of using it but once I had it was quite simple and kept me relatively pain free.

My first few days went well, I think but I really only remember the daily bed baths (I’d brought my own soap at the time I loved the smell now all it does is remind me of hospital and I feel sick!) I was just asleep all the time I didn’t have an appetite and couldn’t bring myself to eat.

Day 4 in the HDU they decided that I was reacting badly to the morphine, I was taken off it and to my relief I started to feel more awake. I was finally able to sit up and was able to have my first shower, progress at last. That day I was moved on to a ward another step in the right direction.

I had visitors most evenings, my parents came daily and friends from work came too, I looked forward to visiting times but I was shattered once they finished. I slept quite well most nights though I do remember one particular night that I’d had extra pain killers, I woke up at about 3 in the morning with a funny sensation in my arm, I was still getting fluids at this time. I looked at my arm and it was swollen from the elbow to the tips of every finger, I called the nurse who took out my drip and told me the fluid hadn’t gone into the vein but into the tissue for the next 3 days I had fluid coming out of my hand it was pretty gross. There were a few little mishaps throughout my stay.

Finally on day 9 in the hospital I saw a physio who made sure I could walk down and up a flight of stairs…hey presto I could. I was now ready to go home finally. I was given my bag of wonderful tablets and sent on my way with no other advice!! The drive home was hell I felt every corner and every bump in the road. I got home 2 hours later and set myself up in bed I was so glad to be home. I couldn’t watch telle though the screen was too bright and music hurt my ears so I couldn’t do much, still it was great to be there.

For 2 days I remained in bed, my mum bringing me all my meals and waking me up to take my medication. I was still sleeping an awful lot. Friends came to visit me at home but it was a struggle to stay wake for long. On the night of my 2nd day out of hospital I couldn’t get rid of the pain in my head and I was feeling sick but I didn’t want to bother anyone they’d done so much already, but it all progressively got worse. I gave in and called my dad…once a daddy’s girl always one. Eventually after having a doctor sent out and contacting the hospital I was taken to the nearest hospital. I was immediately given fluids and pain medication and admitted. I was so scared I thought something had gone hugely wrong. I was taken to a ward once taken up I fell asleep. I had a CT scan so they could see what was going on, I was to be transferred back to Edinburgh that day. However before I was transferred I had 2 visitors to the ward! My shift were on duty and had been told where I was so they popped in to visit, it cheered me up a lot, when they left the nurse swiftly came over to ask if I was in trouble!! No but they will be…I felt like a suspect.

Once back in Edinburgh I was again put on fluid but this time they changed my tablets, I was only put on paracetamol and within 3 days I felt great I was walking about and even eating. Being told that the reason I’d felt completely awful was more than likely due to being dehydrated…I’d stumbled at something that comes so easy and where I should have known better!

Again I was discharged this time I was to remember to drink LOTS of water. After this things improved a lot. I remained with my parents for another week I’d been doing well but found that my days were always split good and bad, I never had a full good day. So I decided that to get better fully I’d have to go back to my home and do things for myself. So I did and I saw a big improvement, the first days were hard I had to make my own meals and do things myself. Every day got easier, I started to go for a daily walk not far but I was so bored inside and the day time telle was getting a tad tedious. It was now the end of September, my Sergeant and Inspector had come around to visit. I’d organised through work to spend some time at a Police treatment centre to get myself back to full fitness for work or at least try to anyway!

So I made my way to the centre where I got looked at by a first class physio therapist who gave me advice on what stretches to do, how to improve my posture which was now awful and booked me in to some aquafit classes to help me start building up all my neck and back muscles, I couldn’t believe that they had wasted away so much and how weak I am now. I was proud that I was almost as strong as some of the guys on my shift…I’m only little after all and it was a great ego boost. Especially when the suspects mention YOUR STRONG FOR A CHICK…well not anymore I’m not!

Well that kinda bring my story to an end, I’m still at the treatment centre and doing well, I’m back at the gym, swimming and stuff I just have to remember to rein myself in on occasions as I want to do more, I want to be as fit as I was, it’ll come but the stubborn, impatient me wants it now! I’m hoping to be back at work in the next week or so but I’ll see how it goes.

I hope this helps anyone who reads it and you learn where I fell, it’s a long road but there is light at the end of the tunnel, just stay positive and accept help when its given.