creative commons via wikipedia

I usually make detailed outlined for my blogs, but today I’m going to try writing from the hip.

When I first got my breathing tube at age seven, chronicled here, the doctors told me it would only be for six months.

But here I am with it still, thirty years later.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

I’ve had multiple reconstructive surgeries over the decades, but something always went wrong. After the first surgery—which involved them harvesting rib cartilage to use as a stint in my airway—my doctors were able to reverse the tracheostomy. But my airway collapsed because it hadn’t yet healed before they woke me from the medically induced coma. I had to have another tracheotomy, and when I had the next reconstructive surgery a few years later, the same as the first one, it failed too.

The third attempt involved my having a two breathing tubes, one in the throat and one down it to open my airway. It failed too, and I had another case of Stevens-Johnson syndrome due to the post operative antibiotic my doctors gave me.

I had my last reconstructive surgery at sixteen and it involved my surgeon removing a section of my windpipe where scar tissue kept forming and reconnecting it. This one worked—kind of.

Afterward, I could partially breathe through my mouth and nose, but not enough to have my breathing tube removed; my surgeon said my airway was now open, but it was twisted, and I needed a series of surgeries to straighten it out. Also, I again had an allergic reaction to the postoperative antibiotic.

Since then, the last surgery I had was at 25 to have my vocal cords unfused.

I’ve given up hope of ever getting rid of this hunk of plastic in my neck; I’ve had it for most of my life, so what’s the point of more surgeries that probably won’t work anyway?

I’ve made peace with this. It’s who I am, and I don’t want to risk destroying what ability I have to speak and breathe through my nose and mouth.

In another decade, I might revisit the issue, if medical technology has advanced to the point it’s feasible to reverse my tracheostomy.

Conclusion

Thanks for reading. If you liked this post, let me know in the comments. Please sign up for my newsletter, add Palingenesis on Goodreads, and if you’re inclined, you can buy a copy here.

Recommended Posts

No comment yet, add your voice below!


Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.