*In case you missed any previous posts on this, I have what’s called “hyperhidrosis” where my hands and feet sweat an abnormal amount. I’m getting surgery to correct this issue for my feet. I already had surgery for my hands 11 years ago, but it didn’t work entirely and I might have to go in for a “do-over” sometime after this surgery.*
This past weekend, I got the paperwork for my surgery in the mail. Holy crap, this is real. I’m going to have surgery on May 26th. 17 short days away.
Not that I haven’t daydreamed about how awesome it will be to have dry feet and to be able to take my socks off once in awhile, the more pressing concerns right now are “I really really really really don’t want to have surgery.”
Yes, I want the results. Absolutely. But flying to LA, spending thousands of dollars, going through getting blood drawn, being poked and prodded at, then finally sent in to a room where they knock me out and cut me open? Not to mention the recovery process of feeling super groggy from anesthesia and then depending on other people to do things for me? Gross, gross, gross. I don’t want to feel so…weak. Vulnerable. Exposed.
And I know those are silly, short term things to be concerned with. I should be more concerned about horrific side effects or something, right? Well, I’m not without those concerns either.
My first surgery for my hands was much more serious than I anticipated at the age of 13. I had lung tubes and difficulty breathing, not to mention the sharp “pins and needles” feeling I frequently got while my nerves were adjusting to the fact that they had been severed.
This surgery for my feet is supposed to be less serious of a fiasco, plus I’m sure technologies have improved over the last decade. But still…six more scars on my torso isn’t exactly fun to think about. (The surgery is not on my feet–the nerves that will be targeted are in my chest/torso)
And then there are the bigger, long-term questions once we find out if the surgery works. Will it work forever? Will the clamps they put on the nerves (they aren’t being severed this time) cause complications down the line? I wouldn’t think so, but even irrational fears are fears.
Some of the hardest questions of all…What if I have sweaty children? What if I have children that have it just as bad as I did, if not worse? How could I justify watching them suffer through the taunts and teases that I did, while I’m sweat-free? Sure, we could eventually put them under the knife, but would they resent me a little as children because I could get fixed and they’re too young to be?
Of course, that brings me to question whether or not I should even have my own children because of the possibility of them being sweaty and miserable. I was lucky because I was never a shy, introverted child, so I didn’t let my sweat stop me from much, even when I had students AND teachers make fun of my condition. Other people with this condition are often socially stunted because of how they are treated as children…why would I take that risk with my own child? Sure, I came through stronger for it, but is that too much to ask of every child?
That last paragraph really has nothing to do with my surgery, but it’s a question that haunts me all of the time: Would I want my child to deal with this? To be humiliated by classmates, to not be able to take notes properly because their paper is too wet, to have me put together their science project for them because they’ll smear their own writing? To have to hide their feet like I do, to always have to think about the uncomfortable feelings of constant sweating?
It’s a lot to take in. It’s a lot to think about. These aren’t easy questions.
I am getting the surgery to improve my quality of life, and I’m pretty much banking on the fact that things will most likely be just fine and that I’ll come out of it a happier, dryer person. I suppose after that, I’ll just have to take things as they come.
It’s still a scary thing, and definitely isn’t something I’m taking lightly. There will probably be pros and cons to this, like everything else in life. There are also no guarantees, which is a risk I’m taking. I guess we’ll have to see if it was worth it.
Any advice on how to calm these nerves before the surgery? I wish there was a pill to drive out the naggy little doubting voices in my head, for sure!
