"He who has health has hope, and he who has hope has everything."
Proverb

 At 8:15 this morning, my boyfriend and I walked out of the neurosurgeon's office. Its been 9 months since Mike's spinal surgery and the Doc called him a model patient. I think back to a year ago and how far we've come and my mind is absolutely blown.

Mike had been dealing with his back pain for almost a decade and in the first year we were together it was getting worse and worse by the day. He couldn't sit, stand, lie, lean, or even sleep without shooting pains running down his leg. We had all gotten used to it...so much that our friends even made fun of the way he walked...not in a cruel way, it was just that noticeable. Mike took it all in stride. I could see the pain and it broke my heart, but I didn't know what to do about it. Then it started affecting his mood. He was cranky all the time, wasn't getting any sleep, and we were fighting. It was awful. We started exploring our options. It had just gotten to the point where we knew it couldn't go on like this. He tried physical therapy, but it seemed to cause more pain than actually help. Pain killers were pointless since we both knew that was no way to live. Our PCP recommended him for an MRI, which the insurance company denied. Thus began the battle with them. To make a long story short, Bruce Hector, our PCP, went to battle for us. Eventually getting the MRI approved. And what did it show? That the disc was protruding 12 centimeters. In case you're not sure...that is a lot! Normally they try to avoid back surgery at all costs. They want to try anything else they can to resolve the issue without cutting you open. Mike's was so bad that they immediately referred us to a neurosurgeon for a consultation. Not to mention, Dr. Hector was livid that the health insurance made us fight for the MRI approval for 6 months, especially for someone in his condition. 

That's when we went to see Dr. Brian Gantwerker. Dr. Gantwerker took one look at the MRI and was shocked that Mike was even standing in front of him. There was no discussion. He immediately recommended surgery. And we agreed. Anything to make the pain go away. 

Of course, I went into worry-overdrive. I was researching the procedure, what the risks were, reading people's stories who had undergone the same operation. Basically, I was every doctor's nightmare. But Dr. Gantwerker was so patient and understanding. He answered all of our questions and concerns and was very open about the possible outcomes. He told us that recovery was very difficult, but he wasn't used to seeing this severe a case in someone so young...and his youth may actually help him recover much faster. He worked with our insurance and managed to have the operation scheduled at at outpatient facility to help us on the cost.

The surgery was scheduled for late August. As the day grew closer, I tried to stay calm. And then all of a sudden, it was here. We woke up at 4am, I believe, and went to the hospital. We sat in a cold dark room in the lobby. We were called in for paperwork, paid fees, got booklets and instructions. Then taken to a hospital room to dress for surgery and wait for the nurses. I remember Mike laying on the horrific hospital bed, still in so much pain. I think we still managed to laugh through part of it. Holding hands while we waited for the nurse. They took blood, asked questions, got contacts. Took us down to pre-op. That's where we met the team. The anesthesiologist, nurses, and Dr. Gantwerker. They explained everything, marked where the incision would be, and hooked him up to all these wires and tubes. And then before I knew it, they were rolling him away from me. 

The Dr. had told me the surgery would last about an hour. A nurse showed me to the waiting area. There was a TV on the wall that showed a time chart of the different procedures that were being done. Mike's name was right next to Dr. Gantwerker's in a little pink box that moved ever-so-slowly to the left as each 15 minute time blocked passed. I sat there. Watching it. Waiting. It had been more than an hour, so I went to ask the nurse how everything was. She said that this was normal and to just wait. As each second passed, my mind raced faster and faster. I sat in the corner of the waiting room amongst many others who were concerned for their loved ones. It was a silent, still panic. 

Then, after 5 hours (Yes, I said 5 hours). Dr. Gantwerker comes through the door, scrubs and all and gestures to me. It felt unreal. I'd seen this in movies, but never actually been the one to get the news. Then he started talking..."The surgery took longer than we expected"....umm, no $hit. It seems that the disc had been sticking out there for so long that it had embedded itself. It was lodged in there and they had to take more time and care to remove it safely. Then he got to the point, the only thing I cared about hearing..."He's fine. He did great and he's in recovery." Why do they always save that part for last!? He told me that the little wires and pads they had connected to his feet monitored nerve activity....and that the second they removed the disc, they could see an immediate difference.
I went in to see him. He was groggy and looked like...well, like he had been in surgery for 5 hours. But then he said the magic words.....the pain in his leg was gone. Just gone! 100%. Of course there was a whole new set of pain resulting from them cutting him open....but we knew that would take time.
The next few days were incredibly difficult. He was in so much pain. My heart broke with every wince he made. But we moved through it. Over the next few months, there were follow up appointments, rules to follow - "No bending, lifting, or twisting!". It was not easy and it was still scary every single day. But we got through it together.
 Mike was feeling wonderful. His quality of life improved astronomically. He could do things he never dreamed of before. Sitting through a movie, taking a flight, or even taking a walk was no longer excruciating. We became much more active. Everything became the way it should be. Pain Free. So in love. And ready to take on the world. 

As I drove away from the Dr. Gantwerker's office this morning, I teared up. Seeing in my mind all the doors that are now open. The festivals and concerts we can go to, the theme parks, walks on the beach, travel to wherever our hearts desire. I saw a future for us where he can run and jump and play with our children. Hold them above his head or carry them on his shoulders. He can now go on tour with his band and not fear the hours on a bus or plane. He can rock out on stage (which he does oh-so-well) and not have to worry about hiding the pain. When this all started, Mike said that all he wanted was to be able to play football on the beach with his friends. And that is exactly what he will do this summer and I can't wait. There I was, driving away, crying, and just thinking of all we'd been through and how we were finally leaving it behind. Filled to the brim with gratitude.

Day 97: I am grateful for Doctors, Surgeons, Nurses, and all those that spend their lives helping and healing. I am grateful for the incredible Dr. Brian Gantwerker. He changed Mike's life. He changed my life. He changed our life together. I am grateful for my health and the health of the ones I love. This experience brought us closer, strengthened our relationship, and taught us that we can do anything together, hand in hand, as partners. And I am so very grateful for that.
And this........