The best advice I've received with regard to elective surgery, which is to say, when you choose to undergo a procedure, is to avoid surgery at all costs. To expand on this descriptive, it means non-emergency surgery. What qualifies as an emergency would be in the instance of surviving a car crash, being rushed to emergency, where a surgeon operates, to put your body back together. Here surgery is welcome, rather than to die from your injuries or to survive them with permanent damage going forward. Though, and sadly, we all know there are instances when you're not able to afford to pay or to receive immediate care from a skilled surgeon.
A handful of people will live out their entire lives never requiring surgery, and if this describes you, count yourself extremely lucky. While others who have very deep pockets will think nothing of having multiple surgeries performed on their bodies, such as minor cosmetics procedures on their face or more complex plastic surgery. Know, however, that before you elect to undergo a surgical procedure, how your body will respond to the anesthetic cannot be predicted. You'll be asked if you have allergies, such as being allergic to penicillin (perhaps one of the more common ones), which is an essential question to guide the medical team to decide the saftest antibiotic to prescribe afterward, following the procedure.
In Canada, there are approximately 220,000 cases of infections in local area hospitals, post-op, causing up to 8,000 deaths annually, which is the justification to ask this salient question about your allergies.
What many laypersons don't fully appreciate is that the anesthetist has more power than the surgeon to stop an operation. One friend I knew had dated an anesthetist, and I've heard this from other persons too working in local area hospitals, how the anesthetist is the most vital role; a professional whose sole purpose is to monitor the patient's vital signs. Your attending anesthetist must be equipped with the brain power to carry out on-the-spot mathematical gymnastics (calculus, trigonometry), as part of monitoring the patient's blood pressure, pulse and heart-rate in real time, in order to successful adjust oxygen intake. Their mathematical ability makes the difference, for without adequate oxygen levels, your surgery success will nose-dive. And so, this friend of mind shared with me a brutal truth: professionals in this high-pressure role are often the biggest pot-heads, what they'll use daily to help them to unwind, after a day's stress in the operating room. So, when you take a step back, and think about, an anesthetist holds the life of a patient in their hands, as much if not more than the surgeon.
Does it comfort you to know that your hospital professional (anesthetist) monitoring your vital signs may potentially be a pot-head? When I heard this for the first time, I was relieved actually to learn that they are at least able to dial down the intensity of their stress. We've all heard and read the statistics of how many surgeons are the biggest abusers of prescription medicine, and alcohol, to combat the pressure of their roles, as are they likely to take their own lives, and know how to do so with a high success rate. It's not a pretty reality but then us civilians wouldn't have the first clue what it means to show up for your job every day, knowing you might be responsible for an individual's death, and all because you had failed to perform at the highest level, and to not make a single mistake. Not one.
In my family, one parent had worked their career at a local area hospital, and they were able to impart to me a unique perspective, to become aware of the skilled surgeons vs those whose skill was best described as a hack. Some surgeons had earned the nickname the 'butcher'. No, I'm not speaking about a character name for a new, thrilling book or movie but rather a surgeon whose reputation precedes them, known to the hospital staff, though not necessarily to the public. Having a family member with this level of visibility is helpful, true, as much as it leaves you with a sense of dread. Few medical students finish their degrees with a scholastic average that exceeds 90%. In reality, this represents less than 5% of the graduating class vs the true reality that the majority of medical students squeak by with an average of 65%. Afterwards, they cut their teeth in their profession during internships, to iron out all the wrinkles in their skills, or lack thereof... [one hopes, in any event].
Most recently, I had a visit with an ophthalmologist (an osteopathic professional who specializes in eye and vision care), as per a referral received from my regular optometrist. Long-story short, I'm now scheduled for laser eye surgery to relieve pressure on my eyeballs. Best news was hearing that my optical nerve is 'very healthy'. The bad news is that I've been diagnosed with Ocular Hypertension, a common condition where pressure inside the eye, called intraocular pressure is higher than normal, and it typically presents itself around the 40 year-old mark, and can also be caused by stress, genetics, and other environmental factors. Because your eyes contain a clear, water liquid to feed the inside of the eye, that is constantly being drained from the eye, if the flow of this liquid doesn't drain properly, the pressure can build up, and eventually lead to glaucoma, which isn't good. Glaucoma is generally asymptomatic, and again there's a genetic component, so even if you maintain regular visits with your optometrist, and take special care of your eyes, you may still suffer. The worse part about Glaucoma is that it's regarded as the 'silent thief of sight.' I didn't know I had ocular hypertension, until my optometrist decided it was time to see a specialist.
Your optometrist will run the standard eye pressure test, as part of your two-year check-up. The normal range falls between 12 and 22. Any number over this normal range is considered a valid indicator to see an ophthalmologist. My numbers were coming in at 21 for both eyes, which is to say at the high range on the normal scale, though when tested by sophisticated, calibrated equipment in the ophthalmologist's office, my numbers came in at 25 and 24. This means that my results confirmed ocular hypertension, which means there weren't any actual signs of optic nerve damage or vision loss. Whew!
So you see? [pun unintended] This is a prime example to highlight the importance of having regular check-ups with your optometrist. When it comes to my sight, and given that I write novels, allowing any potential damage to my vision to progress, when it can be rectified with surgery... well I'll take it as soon as I can, because my vision is no joking matter.
My health is my wealth.
Surgery has many levels of complexity, some of which can take a year, maybe more, from which to recover, while laser-eye surgery to relieve eye pressure is a 30-minute procedure. Your sight isn't impacted because the laser beam doesn't affect your cornea, rather it occurs in the white space, where a teeny tiny hole is created to help drain the fluid, and therefore to reduce overall eye pressure. To reiterate, a normal tonometry reading ranges from 12 and 22 mmHg. It's worth repeating too that the equipment used by an optometrist vs ophthalmologist are not quite at the same level, with the latter having sophisticated calibration. After you run through their battery of tests, I did notice that my eyes had felt tired for the next four days, and then it subsided. The health of your optical nerve is key, here, because this diagnosis is where you don't want to hear the professional pointing out that you have glaucoma vs my state where my optical nerve is healthy, but my air pressure readings indicate that corrective measures need to be taken.
Because I've gone through serious skin cancer surgery, not once but twice, I thought I'd no longer have a pulse when it came to undergoing surgery, or hearing from a professional that I require surgery. Not so. When I sit across the table from a doctor, awaiting results, my palms begin to get moist, and my heart skips a beat. I've known for decades that my White Coat syndrome is irrational, yet it doesn't appear to want to go away any time soon. There are levels to everything. Some levels are easy, while other levels will rock us to the core. If you've been through the worst of surgeries, you'll appreciate exactly what I'm speaking about, given that we each have a different history of health.
The layers too of referrals and check-ups are stacked like a deck of cards. In Canada you can't even get into see a professional, like a surgeon, unless another professional, at a level below the surgeon, makes their determination that you need to see a 'specialist' to determine if more corrective procedures are needed, like surgery. Before you commit to the second level of professional service, do your research, like I did. I was initially recommended to one ophthalmology practice whose reviews on Google nearly scared the bejeebers out of me. I circled back around with my optometrist to insist on getting another referral. I ended up seeing this second recommended professional but only after I checked them out on an MD rating website, to read reviews. I was thrilled to read that their rating was near perfect, owing to one bad review from one person complaining about having been charged the full $100 for failing to show up to their appointment, nor did they cancel it ahead of time.
Then there is my first-hand experience with having periodontal disease, which I've learned is also genetic, regardless if you have perfect hygienic habits when it comes to cleaning your teeth. This disease is treated initially with deep cleanings, and if this fails, you're heading down the dark, lonely alley of surgery, pure hell, as I discovered. I realize in writing this that I could devote an entire post on the complexity of periodontal surgery and I just might end up doing so, to pass on some vital information on the whole process, and the long road to recovery. It's been three years since my two periodontal surgeries, and there are days when I still feel like I haven't fully recovered. It would require me to relay to you the minutiae of how, when and why and this isn't the time, in the here and now.
Suffice it to say, some surgeries are a breeze while others are the tornado that blows in the breeze which rips the bloody roof off your house, scatters your lawn furniture to the four corners, and lifts up your truck, to drop it to a different location, a mile out of the way.
Lately, my health has been on my mind more than usual. I'm not a procrastinator, someone who pretends that their ailments don't exist or that if I forget these health issues are real, then maybe they'll go away naturally. Nope. This is a form of sticking your head in the sand, like an ostrich. I act quickly, which is why it's ever important to put your trust in your own research before you place your trust in a surgeon or another professional who is vested with the power to administer a procedure or treatment for you. Nor do I regard myself as a hypochondriac, someone who panics at the smallest glitch in health. As I just stated, if you put sincere effort and research into taking care of yourself, there's a better chance that you'll enjoy a stress-free life of managing your health and your body.
Don't forget, however, that our bodies are designed to slow down, to break down, to sag, to wrinkle, to age, and to eventually stop working altogether. This is the inevitably of life, the result of the replenishment cycle of our cells, or lack thereof, and how aging impedes their ability to replicate themselves, to replace old worn-out cells with new ones. Not yet has any medical research been able to devise a prescription that regresses time and by extension your body. Maybe in 25 years they'll fully crack the DNA code, and you'll be able to de-age yourself backwards by ten years. Then the question will become: will you want to regress your age? I've considered this hypothetical, and have come to the conclusion that a regression of your cells, your age, may also potentially mean you'll go through the same health issues all over again.
On a positive note I can honestly say that there are advantages to living in Canada. Ontario's Hospital Insurance Plan, known as OHIP, will cover the cost of my two separate laser surgeries, one month apart, to include the follow-up visits with the ophthalmologist, following each surgery. I checked, out of curiosity, and if I lived in the USA this cost could range anywhere from $1,000 to $2,000 per eye or as high as $10,000 per eye, depending on the procedure. My expenses, to treat this condition will mean me having to pay for the cost to take an Uber to the hospital, where the surgery is scheduled to take place.
I'll leave you with the reply that my ophthalmologist left with me, when I asked if I should be concerned about this condition called Ocular Hypertension, "Worrying only calls to you that which you fear." 💯
Happily the diagnosis from the ophthalmologist is positive, as is my attitude toward my eye care. A diet rich in antioxidants, like blueberries, and green leafy vegetables are every eyeball's best friend, and this explains why my optic nerve had received a positive diagnosis from my medical specialist. I thank you!
Upcoming Event I hope to make an appearance at the Ottawa Romance Book Fair, when a date is officially announced for 2027. This is a one-day event held at the Conference Centre, so check back soon for updates.