The saga part 1 - I was scheduled for a 360 fusion on July 27. While hooked up to IV's and heart monitors and all the such, after having received the preliminary drugs before anesthesia, my surgeon cancelled the surgery due to a miscommunication between his fellow and myself :rolleyes: (whole other story for another time). So, the new surgery was scheduled for September 28. From July 27 forward, I began to get progressively worse. By the week of August 23, the pain was incredible and I became bedridden. September 5th found me in the ER only to find out that they wouldn't admit me for pain. They gave me a shot of Demerol (which did as much good as giving Midol to a guy) :confused: and sent me on my way. Tuesday the 7th I called my doctor to find out that he was out of town on vacation (darn my luck) and they offered for me to come in to see the physician assistant on Thursday the 9th. Still bedridden this whole time, I managed somehow to get past the intense pain and crawl to the receptionist's window on Thursday, where I informed them that I was about to pass out. They whisked me to a room, had me lay down, and then the PA came in to evaluate the situation. Her conclusion... I was in pain. (they go to school to learn this stuff).They brought in another doctor, who just happened to be there doing paperwork and he offered to get me out of pain. At this point if the Janitor had walked in and offered the same, I would have taken him up on it. So fortunately, the hospital and the surgeon's office are in the same building. They immediately admitted me and I had surgery the following morning (Friday). It wasn't the full 360 fusion as planned. It was determined that if I still needed the "front" part of the 360, they could still do it on the 28th as planned, but that would be determined upon progress after this emergency surgery. Part 2 - The surgery. The surgery to be done was a laminectomy and fusion at L5-S1. When the surgeon got in there he discovered so much scar tissue from a previous June 2003 laminectomy, and a lot of arthritis. In removing this, it was next to impossible to do without creating a dural tear, and I encountered 2 of those. :eek: One was pretty severe and the other minor. Having this happen, it required that I lay completely flat for 5 days. By day 2, I was going crazy so you can only imagine what day 5 was like. Lucky for me there were dots on the ceiling tiles, so between my creative abilities and the drugs I saw all kinds of "pictures.” :dizzy: On day 5, I was finally allowed to be raised 10 degrees at a time for a couple hours. If no headache.. then I advanced to the next level. Passed that with flying colors. Once at a 90-degree angle or close, the next step was to put me to my feet and get me to the bedside potty. Under normal circumstances, this would have mortified me, but by this point, it was an honorable goal. I think I now know what a toddler feels like being put on the potty for the first time. You get there and are not quite sure what to do or even IF you want to do it. HA. Back to bed I went - with no sweet tart reward for potty attempts - but just glad to be back to my familiar "home" for the past few days. Friday was the day of discharge. I did the required lap around the nurses station, had my successful potty event and it was time to boot me out. The decision was whether to send me to a rehab center or home. I wasn't able to get myself into bed, but with work from the physical therapist, I managed this task too. So, home seemed the best option. My shower and bedroom, being on a second floor, would make things a bit of a challenge, so a hospital bed was arranged for me at home parked conveniently in the family room. The husband just doesn't understand why it matters that the sheets match the family room decor. He's a guy. Nuff said. They were also to send a physical therapist to the house to evaluate my needs and help me with my specific challenges here at home. Part 3 - The Recovery. I'm on my 2nd day home, 9 days post op. The new doctor doesn't require a brace. The old doctor wanted me in it for 4 months. If that doesn't make you nervous as to whom is right and who isn't.... I have a walker. The dreaded walker was another pre-surgery item that gave me anxiety. Now it's my best friend. I try not to let it support me, but use it as assurance in case I get nervous. I'm very weak. A mere 50 steps wear me right out. The staples have not yet been removed. I'm told there are 12 of them. It feels like there are 3 times as many. As I lay in bed (thank you for the laptop), I feel like I'm lying on soup cans. I don't know if it's the mattress, the incision, or the combination. Once the medicine is an hour into its affect, everything is better. The physical therapist never showed up yesterday. She'll be here Monday afternoon. Too little too late perhaps, but I'll still see what she has to say. My downstairs bathroom is so small that either me OR the walker can be in there but the 2 of us can be in there together. Did I mention the medicine (antibiotic) that caused my mouth to go raw? They gave me some diflucan for it and it didn't help. I have just started eating today. For 9 days, I ate nothing. Couldn't even manage soup broth. I've lost 14 lbs. since surgery. HA Who needs Trimspa; I've got good old surgery! I keep looking for even a minor accomplishment each day. I’m quite goal oriented but have no idea where I should be right now. How much up, how much down, how much walking, standing, sleeping. Today I didn't cry (so far) so there's my latest accomplishment. (I know I know, it's the drugs). I'm sure I'll have tons of questions, but just wanted to post this experience to share for anyone there who cared to read it. I know prior to surgery, those who related and shared their experiences really helped me. Anyone who has questions, feel free to ask. I share all (as you can tell).