I wrote the full version for my own future reference:
"The inevitable day had arrived. Jan 29th 2019, the end of days to my child bearing fruits. Even the name, vasectomy had an awkward and horrid ring to it.
I am blessed with two lovely children, so by no stretch of anyone's imagination did I feel aggrieved to having the op done, God knows my wife had 2 difficult child births so it was my time to step up and take one for the team. Having CFS for the best part of 7 years, I barely remember life without it whilst raising my brood.
The thought of a 3rd child with the predictably unpredictable nature of CFS just did'nt sit well with me, or my better half. Alas, the time was right to cut the chord.
My CFS had abated somewhat in the last 6 months, I had tremendous success with alpha lipoic acid and high dose glutathione. It helped my energy and stamina a great deal.
However, as I successfully tilted the CFS scales to the energy side, a new and unwelcoming stranger appeared on the other weighing platform - the dreaded anxiety attack and uncontrollable adrenal surges. As with any new symptom in CFS, you just take it on the chin with a raised eyebrow...."oh, that's'a new one".
We become so adjusted to alternate symptoms that new ones don't scare or really freak us anymore. Even seemingly dangerous symptoms that would send any normal person running like a scalded cat to A+E, water off a ducks' back to us hardened souls. Palpitations?, it's nothing....migraines?...walk in the park......Panic Attacks?...big deal......vision problems.?...it'll be ok in the morning.
So, hardened to anything and everything from an emotional and physical point of view that a living human can face, a snip down below would be a picnic. I had the ultimate preparation, 7 years of bodily pandemonium had done that.
As I was called in for pre-procedure screening, I was as calm as a Hindu cow. The nurse sat me down a few casual questions, height, weight,allergies, etc. Then I seen the dreaded cuff appear, then I felt it. Damn, the HPA furnace lit up like a rocket, it sensed danger....a BP cuff., hardly a Saber toothed tiger. I felt an enormous adrenal surge, heart rate spiking and overwhelmed. This ain't going to be pretty I thought when the screen blipped out 184/106. "Do you have a BP problem?" The nurse spurted out....for a brief second I did actually think about replying,"no, but I have CFS which sometimes results in a overstimulated ANS, totally out of my control".
Two hours later after deep breathing like a woman in labour it dropped to a half respectable 145/90 and proceedings could commence. What the heck the nurses must of thought when they looked at this 45 YO male doing deep breathing exercises in the corner of the ward...me trying desperately to calm down my ANS....did they think I was psychotic?, was I ready to give birth? How I must have looked. At this point in time, I truly believed i had exhausted my adrenaline stores...so I would't have anymore attacks, right? Dead wrong.
They wheeled me into the the OR, first time ever for myself in a surgeons' chamber, thankfully I'll admit. Hooked me in and the screen went up. As I lay there trying to hold off another ANS attack, I looked
towards the ceiling, dreaming i was lying on a Caribbean beach. I didn't get Barbados, but as I looked up i could see clearly from the reflection of the large stainless steel ceiling light everything that was going on down below. The scalpel, the blood, the scissors, again I tried to laugh it off inside my head with reminisces of a SAW movie, the ANS put the turbo chargers on again.
I looked over.....back to 191/100...HR at 100. I just couldn't hold it back, it took over, the ANS, another saber toothed tiger had arrived. At that moment, I did think i was close to death, it was the mother of all attacks. I was nauseous, tunnelled, I wanted to run out of the OR, with my male bits intact or not, i did't care..it was all out panic.
After 10 minutes when all the adrenaline was spent for the second time, we were nearly all done. I was never as glad, what I anticipated to be a breeze of a day ended up a rollercoaster. The op itself a nothingness, comparable to a dental filling. The sense and anticipation of danger my body prepared for was extreme to say the least.
As the nurses were trying to assure me the pain will be over soon, inside my body and soul I was fighting a totally different battle than they could ever have realised. A ongoing was to keep my ANS from blowing an artery, a battle to remember to breath, an event that almost felt like survival, and in my ANS it was literally felt like a fight for life and death.
As I was wheeled back to the ward I felt the calmness return, the adrenals washed out for the day...capitulated. I was inspected down below a few times by the endearing staff.."do you want some
tea and toast?", they enquired. "Just tea", will be fine I replied. I knew white carbs were out of the question, they make my HR jump I said with a wry smile. Just another day I thought to myself hiding behind the true mask of CFS."
