The Rise of A Phoenix

Chapter Eight-Flares, Fear And Dancing With The Scalpel

My heart was in my throat because I knew what was happening. My labrums were gone for good and it was all because I had pushed my luck postponing the surgery for my hips.

I started crying because all I could think of were the degrees hanging on the wall in my office.

I had barely made it to graduation before my hips flared up. The cortisone injections had stopped working, but Dr. Hennessy wanted to try again before putting me through surgery because I was still younger than the average candidate for that surgery and my orthopedic history was complex.

I pwas good with that because I had made it through graduation for that reason. Now I knew that I had no other option but the scalpel and it scared me.

My cell phone rang as all this was happening. It was Dr. Hennessy.

“Brittany, what's going on? The nursing staff at Mon Valley called me and said that you had a flare. Where is it on the pain scale?”

“It’s six, almost seven. It's like it was when I first saw you, only the pain is worse than that. What should I do?”

“There's nothing you can do except for the surgery. I'm sorry, sweetheart. You're in good hands with Dr. Hamlin and I will see you after it's done. Good luck.”

I hung up the phone and said,

“Well, I guess I have no choice but to dance with the scalpel. Package me and send me to Magee Women's Hospital in Pittsburgh. Maybe I'll see my mother.”

Now Meredith and the rest of the nursing team could begin the process of “packaging” me for medical transport to Pittsburgh. Forms for consent were given, read and signed, the ambulance was called, charts and notes printed, and medication given. I glanced at the clock as the nurse gave me the IV narcotics. I converted the time to the military 24 hour clock in my head.

0730. Surgery starts at 0845 if I'm first on the surgical board. Please let my mother be there. I need her.

I heard the clatter of the stretcher rolling down the hallway and swallowed hard. It was during times like these that I felt the loneliness and isolation the most.

“Is she good to go? We have to get rolled out of here. Magee Women's Hospital is waiting for her so they can prepare her for surgery.”

“I'm as ready as I can be, I guess. Let's go ahead and get this done.”, I said as I hoisted myself up onto the stretcher.

They connected the leads to the various monitors reading my vital signs and they strapped me into the stretcher before they took me away and down the hallway to leave the hospital in preparation for the drive to Pittsburgh and Magee Women's Hospital.

As the medics rolled through the hallway with me, they passed my former housemate Gary's door. He flashed me a smile. I nodded, barely concealing the tears in my eyes. My anxiety was starting to flare up badly and my thoughts raced.

To settle my racing thoughts, I quoted Hughes and Angelou in my head. I whispered the poems under my breath just as I had done when I was in the MRI machine for the scans of my left hip and the noise was too loud. I threw in Dylan Thomas' villanelle for good measure as the medics made it out of Mon Valley Hospital with me and loaded me into the ambulance. I realized then it was a Wednesday morning and tears began to flow. Damn my hips! If I wasn't doing this now, I would be at home drafting an MS for LinebyLineTime around George Beckman's table! Pixie will make it back, my darling Professor!

I must have spoken this just a bit too loudly because the medics looked at me like I was insane and asked,

“Who's George Beckman? Why are you referring to yourself as Pixie?”

“He's my writing mentor. Pixie is a reference to my social media handle. Wednesday evening is his writing group. I'm the young buck at the table and the only amateur in the group. Everyone except for me has been published at least once.”

“Okay. We seriously thought you were going through something drastic for a minute there. Why is that making you cry? That's the explanation for why your blood pressure is spiking right now.”

“I'm just a writer devoted to my craft. Wednesday evening is proving ground and I'm good at it. It's making me angry that I'm going to have to miss tonight.”

The rest of the trip was uneventful and silent with the exception of the beeping heart monitor. I glanced over at it. Ninety beats. Sounds about right and my blood pressure is a perfect hundred-twenty over eighty. No family curse here. Thank you Daddy.

Or should I say Mom? Oh well, either is fine. It's a shame neither of them could spare me from what I'm doing now. Oh wait, Mom could have and didn't because she, at twenty-two, was too young to be a mother and had no one guiding her. At least she got it right with my brother Hunter. I wouldn't be where and what I am if it hadn't happened the way it did though, so for that I'm thankful.

I heard the medics calling in my impending arrival and swallowed hard.

“Mon Valley EMS transporting a thirty-eight year old female as surgical transport. ETA ten minutes. Blood pressure and vitals are all stable.

Blood pressure,120/80, heart rate 90, blood saturation 98% on room air, respirations 18.”

I realized I was reaching the point of no return and prayed that I still had the courage to make it through as the ambulance arrived at Magee.

“Okay, well, we're here. Can you sign this form for me?,’’ the female paramedic asked, handing me a clipboard and pen.

I read and signed the form and handed everything back to her before the medics disconnected the monitors and unloaded me from the back of the ambulance.

I'm coming full circle. Nine years ago, I left a hospital after being a patient for almost a month after being medically evaluated in preparation to embark on a hard road filled with change and challenges as I rediscovered who I was in the wake of leaving my stepmother and father's house. Ironic how things work out.

I heard the voice of my writing mentor George Beckman in my head, saying,

You've got this. Remember that three pound kid in the incubator they said wouldn't make it. You've made it and then some. We're all here for and with you in spirit. Fly, my dear Phoenix,fly!

He's right. I do. I've just got to light the pyre, spread my wings and let it burn. I've got to release this monster of fear that's been growing inside me for the past three years. It's out of my hands now and I need to surrender. Thank you Professor. I thought this as the medics wheeled me in and the nursing team took over, asking me and the medics questions for triage, asking about my medications and medical history.

“Is there anything else we need to know before we do the surgery? For example, could you possibly be pregnant?” the nurse asked.

“I have a skin sensitivity to the kind of latex adhesive used for IV placement. Other than that, I don't think so.” I said with a tinge of nervousness.

“Okay then, we can draw the labs for the type and crossmatch as well as the hemoglobin and hematocrit panel and do the urine culture for the pregnancy test. I'll be back. My name's Rose, sorry for forgetting to introduce myself. “