April 29th 2015

Posted: July 28, 2015 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , ,

I always found it odd doctors mark with a sharpie where they will be performing surgery. But that’s what Omar’s surgeon did.

Omar’s surgeon came into our secluded area to review his chart and testing results from the previous day. When he finished with the charts  he looked at us in the eye one at a time and said “I have to mark you.”  I nodded to Omar  and he tilted his head and the doctor scribbled his initials on Omar’s left side of the face, by the eyebrow.

The whole situation itself is surreal but in the back of my consciousness i couldn’t help but get hung up on this insignificant detail. After all, it is just ink on skin. But, in my head I was highly furious/panicked. I was thinking they should have a patient’s chart memorized before they even touch a person. Do they really need to be reminded of what operation they are about to perform?Don’t you already have a mental map of where you are making an incision on a human body? How do you not clearly remember what side you have to dissect? Would they seriously place a blade at random to a person? Do you even know what you are doing to my fiancee?

Plus, for Omar, this is his second surgery. He already has scarring clearly displaying where to operate… I know it’s such an minor insignificant thing but all this was screaming in the back of my head as I watched the doctor scribble his initials onto my hubby’s skin and stayed starring at the shinny wet ink until it dried.

Finally,  the doctors finalized everything and they gave us a moment to say goodbye. There isn’t enough comfort in the world to be given in these situations.

We both had tears sneaking out. We both knew it was okay to cry but both fought to be solid and strong…always trying to take care of each other. I fought back the tears and tried to personify calm and strength and reassurance for him. I gave him a hug and kiss and told him I love him and I promise to be there when he wakes up. They started wheeling him away on the stretcher and as I walked alongside tears rolled down my face. I could see the fear in the shine of his eyes. He was struggling to hold it together all morning and i saw the breaking point in the brink of his eyes. It took everything I had not to throw myself on the stretcher like a crazy person. The nurses were turning the stretcher to push through the doors that would lead them to where they needed to bring him for the operation. I couldn’t walk along side him anymore and my feet struggled to stop. As strongly as i could make my voice, I called out to Omar and told him I love him and he’ll be okay. He nodded to me as the doors swung close behind him.

I walked out the pre-op holding area and as soon as the doors closed behind me I  side stepped out the door way leaned my back heavily against the wall and took out my phone. I texted his parents , telling them they didn’t make it to Omar in time  they took him in for surgery. As i pushed the buttons to text , silent tears streamed freely and I listened to the tear droplets hit the tiled floors in the still quiet empty hallway.

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Comments
  1. Another
    Surgery
    Oh sister
    I’m sorry

    Like

  2. jonparker55 says:

    Prayers and healing energy for Omar and you and for a return to health for Omar.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. kazy07 says:

    The world is cruel :/

    Like

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