{"id":98,"date":"2011-03-08T05:17:29","date_gmt":"2011-03-08T05:17:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/?p=98"},"modified":"2011-03-08T05:17:29","modified_gmt":"2011-03-08T05:17:29","slug":"its-my-zipperversary","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/?p=98","title":{"rendered":"It’s my Zipperversary!!!!"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Well tomorrow is anyway. \u00c2\u00a0This time last year I was freaked the hell out. \u00c2\u00a0I really was not sure I would live through the surgery. \u00c2\u00a0I reached the age my dad was when he got sick last year, and this year, on my 34th birthday, I will outlive him. \u00c2\u00a0That messes with a kid. \u00c2\u00a0I say kid because I was back to the age I was when he died when I realized this. \u00c2\u00a0Back then I knew 34 was too young, but as a 10 year old, I also thought 34 was old. \u00c2\u00a0Now I see what a lifetime has gone by since he’s been gone. \u00c2\u00a0That is another blog for another day, but it lets you peek into my head (pun intended) as to what I was feeling one year ago today.<\/p>\n

We got up early the morning of the 8, it was Monday. \u00c2\u00a0The captain and I picked up my mom and headed to the hospital. \u00c2\u00a0I was to be the first surgery that day. \u00c2\u00a08am. \u00c2\u00a0We sat in a tiny little pre-op room for several hours while my mom and the Captain took turns sneaking out for breakfast and then lunch. \u00c2\u00a0I would have been hungry, but I was too scared of what they were going to do to think of food. \u00c2\u00a0That and my support crew smelled like hospital food. \u00c2\u00a0That will kill any appetite. \u00c2\u00a0They took me into another pre-op where I was only allowed one visitor at a time, and I met with the\u00c2\u00a0anesthesiologist\u00c2\u00a0and saw my doc for the first time that day. \u00c2\u00a0I remember him asking me if I was a natural red-head. \u00c2\u00a0I said sometimes, but then realized I should have told him he picked a hell of a time to ask if the carpet matched the drapes. \u00c2\u00a0I’m much wittier about 5 seconds after its too late.<\/p>\n

The rest was a little hazy. \u00c2\u00a0I remember walking into the OR and having a conversation with people. \u00c2\u00a0They swear that I was still on the bed, but I could swear I was walking. \u00c2\u00a0I know the drugs would not hinder my memory. \u00c2\u00a0I definitely walked into the OR. \u00c2\u00a0Somehow they must have gotten me to sit down or lay down, because I woke up with the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life. \u00c2\u00a0And that is saying something. \u00c2\u00a0I could hear the Captain and my parents, and I was so\u00c2\u00a0grateful\u00c2\u00a0they were there. \u00c2\u00a0I wanted to tell them I loved them, and thank them for being there. \u00c2\u00a0I wanted to ask if anyone had been home to let out the puppies, but I couldn’t move and I couldn’t speak. \u00c2\u00a0They left the room and I could see them through the window of the ICU, and my mom waved. \u00c2\u00a0The next three nights were full of vampires coming in in the night, taking my blood, giving me pills, asking me if I knew who I was, where I was, or what my birthday was. \u00c2\u00a0There was a cold sponge bath that first night too. \u00c2\u00a0I can’t talk about it. \u00c2\u00a0I can’t stand for strangers to hug me, let alone that. \u00c2\u00a0we will never speak of it again. \u00c2\u00a0The nicer nurses laughed it off when I made up answers to their questioning me every hour.<\/p>\n

“Do you know where you are?” \u00c2\u00a0-Yes, in a torture chamber. \u00c2\u00a0“What’s your name?” – what’s YOUR name? good times. \u00c2\u00a0Except the sponge bath.<\/p>\n

It was all fun and games until I I saw my head looked like this:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>This is why we are called Zipperheads. \u00c2\u00a0The staples in our heads look like zippers.<\/p>\n

At one time I had great hair. \u00c2\u00a0It was long, curly, and has been many different colors over the years. \u00c2\u00a0After having to wash my hair in baby shampoo and then getting back into the pool, \u00c2\u00a0it was fried. \u00c2\u00a0There is still a lot of it, however, and even when it looked like this,\u00c2\u00a0\"\"<\/a>you really couldn’t tell when I had my hair down. \u00c2\u00a0Other than me itching. \u00c2\u00a0Man did it itch.<\/p>\n

Once my hair started growing out, I would wear my hair in what was known as the T.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>This was me with my hair up, out of the new growth, so it could breath, and the longer hairs wouldn’t get stuck in the new hair that was just trying to make a life for itself in this world.<\/p>\n

I discovered something in all this. \u00c2\u00a0I loved my hair, we all knew that, and I would panic when I was younger thinking I would die if anything ever happened to it. \u00c2\u00a0But now, I wear my scar with pride. \u00c2\u00a0I love my scar. \u00c2\u00a0I would prefer no one touch it, but I am very proud of what I went through. \u00c2\u00a0Everyone has knee surgery, or a bypass, but how many people had a hole drilled in their head and part of their brain removed, and still function on a normal(ish) level?<\/p>\n

I didn’t get a medal for going back to work after three weeks, in fact I received a bad review because I didn’t help out well enough when someone else was out shortly after I got back. \u00c2\u00a0I started training to help out while I was still supposed to be out -but I’m not bitter (yes I am).<\/p>\n

Instead I got this, a reminder that life is too short to sweat the small stuff. \u00c2\u00a0 You just don’t know what is going to happen next, or what is around the corner. \u00c2\u00a0You only get right now. \u00c2\u00a0When you’re sitting in your office, and you can’t get along with your co-worker, or you wonder why somebody is closed off to you, it doesn’t matter. \u00c2\u00a0In the grand scheme of things, nobody cares. \u00c2\u00a0Pay attention to the things that matter, and the rest will just fade into the \u00c2\u00a0background.<\/p>\n

I do have a confession, I actually knew all this, I’ve known it since I was 10. \u00c2\u00a0But know I have a pretty cool 7″ scar to go with it!<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Well tomorrow is anyway. \u00c2\u00a0This time last year I was freaked the hell out. \u00c2\u00a0I really was not sure I would live through the surgery. \u00c2\u00a0I reached the age my dad was when he got sick last year, and this … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-98","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/98","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=98"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/98\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=98"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=98"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thetravelingzipperhead.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=98"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}