Before the surgery they asked me whether I wanted to graft bone from my head or my hip. They explained that medically there wasn't much difference, but if it was from my hip I wouldn't be able to walk for a while, and I would hurt in my head and my hip instead of just my head. I decided to graft bone from my skull.
Early that morning I awoke sore and miserable with my entire face aching. Grafting in bone between my teeth and nose gave me two black eyes and a mouth that was so swollen I could only drink through a straw. I was intubated during the surgery so my throat was swollen too. It may surprise you that those weren't the worst symptoms. Above it all was a droning headache that made breathing unbearable. To make sure the bone graft from the skull didn't cause any stress to the brain they attached a machine to the top of my head. It was about the size of a grapefruit, but it felt like I had a bookcase attached to my head. On heavy painkillers and groggy from the surgery I slept for hours until night came.
At night my parents needed to return to where the other kids were to sleep. They left, the hospital dimmed the lights, and my body decided it was done sleeping. They would be back in 8 hours. That's 480 minutes. That's 28,800 seconds. I would know. I laid there and figured it out. My eyes still burned, and my head pounded, so when I tried to watch TV it made my whole body ache. After a half hour I felt so sick it was over a week before I tried to watch TV again. 442 minutes. That's 26,520 seconds. 26,519 seconds. 26,518 seconds.
It's ok - I'm tough, I knew it would be a hard surgery, so I would take the pain. I was determined I would use as little painkiller medicine as possible, and that I decided that while it hurt I would be fine. I can handle anything. Maybe in my head I was little like the wicked people in Zarahemla: "for behold, we are powerful, and our cities great, therefore our enemies can have no power over us." (Helaman 8:6) Then I tried to roll over.
The head sucker drainage thingy machine weighed a ton. It must have been mostly metal. Because of the way it was attached to my head I had to lay with my head straight up. I tried to twist my body a little to the side, but then my swollen neck hurt. It didn't take me realize that I would be spending the night lying flat on my back, which is not a position I usually sleep in.
The nurse came to check on me, and I explained that I couldn't sleep. For some complicated reason I couldn't get any sedatives, and when I complained about the metal alien stuck to my head she told me how it was so important and could save my life and I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention because at this point my body aches to roll to one side. It may not sound like a big deal, but you try laying in one position for a few hours and see what you think.
Midnight finally came. I watched the tiny second hand spin round and round. 12:15. 12:30. I spent most of my time trying to shift my body to one side or the other without moving my head. One o'clock. Two o'clock. By now I don't care about being brave or strong. I just want to roll over. I'll do anything - I'll invent a time machine and go back and undo the decision to graft bone from my head. At one point I started feeling the brain sucker to see if I could "accidentally" disconnect it. Apparently I made my head bleed, and the nurse told me I could expect to keep it on even longer. Nurses have no sympathy.
Lying there with nothing to do, Three o'clock in the morning, I came to a couple of realizations. It didn't matter how beat up I was, or how badly I was hurt, if I didn't have a basic freedom of movement I was truly miserable. It cut through my heroism, it broke down my resolve, and it overwhelmed my strength. Each second stretched out to an eternity as my misery grew to fill a lifetime. The rest didn't matter so much - all I wanted was to roll on my side.
There is a reason that sin is called "slavery". Of the wicked it has been said, "His own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sins." (Proverbs 5:22) When I have done something contrary to what I know is right I cannot relax, and I cannot find peace. I have a heart that is bruised and my spirit hurts, but that's not even the worst. When I have sinned once I know I am likely to sin again. I try to resist, and find myself doing what I know is wrong over and over. I think to myself, "And why should I yield to sin, because of my flesh? Yea, why should I give way to temptations, that the evil one have place in my heart to destroy my peace and afflict my soul?" (2 Nephi 4:27). My sins seem to stretch through eternity, and often I begin to worry that I will never overcome my own weakness.
6:00 am. Family came back, doctor came to visit, I made a plea for the brain monster to be removed. The doctor said it could come off at 10:00. Such a joy to have a finish line in sight! When the submarine came off my head I rolled to my right and felt such relief! I hurt for the next few weeks, but at least I could roll onto my side when I needed.
"O, my beloved brethren, turn away from your sins; shake off the chains of him that would bind you fast; come unto that God who is the rock of your salvation." (2 Nephi 9:45) The Lord gives us guilt to make us uncomfortable, but with that guilt he offers a way out. A finish line - repent and come unto Christ. When we agree to be like Him then He will take the monstrous weight of sin off our heads and we can be free of guilt and worry and pain. It is a miracle that must be experienced to fully understand. The Lord lives, and he wants us to be free by choosing to follow His commandments during the darkest parts of the night. It is worth following the Savior to be free.
A few years later I needed another bone graft. This time I chose to get bone from my hip. I had to be very careful when I rolled onto the side where the bone was grafted, but so much better. My one night of misery was enough to teach me a lesson that has never left me. I can suffer through certain things and maybe I'll complain while I endure, but some things matter so much that I immediately dedicate everything to ending it, and I resolve to never go through it again. I don't look back and laugh at that long aching night, it was a lesson in finding what matters most and treating it right. I expect in my life to have more painful lessons, but they won't be from grafting cranial bone rather than hip bone.
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