Holy shit, in 2014 I actually had my right first rib removed. The surgeons had to twist the rib off of my sternum and spine until it “popped” off. Yes, my rib had to “pop” off of two other bones in order to be removed. Depending on the severity of your compression your surgeon will consider removing the entire first rib, or just resecting a piece of it. In my case I had the entire first rib removed. During this surgery an extra muscle was found that was wrapped around my subclavian nerve and artery. The subclavian nerve and artery are extremely important. They provide your brain with blood and oxygen! This extra muscle wasn’t seen on any of the scans, or tests. It was a blessing in disguise that I decided to go through with this surgery. If that extra muscle had never been removed I would have been at risk of having a stroke and/or blood clot. I was so desperate to rid myself of pain and I knew the risks that came along with this type of surgery.

The location of the surgery is very intricate because there are specific nerves located in this area. The possible risks include

• Injury to the brachial plexus, long thoracic, thoracodorsal, intercostals brachial and the phrenic nerve.
• Major nerve injury is uncommon, but could potentially result in paralysis of an arm or hand.
• Injuries can also affect the arteries, veins and lungs.
• If there is internal bleeding, infection or scarring a second operation is required.
• In rare instances, there could be no benefit to having the surgery.
• The other terrible downside is that the current symptoms could worsen.

Knowing the risk of complication I still went ahead with the surgery. The pain was unbearable and all the alternative treatments and physical therapy I did were unsuccessful.

I want to give you the raw version of my experience. I’m struggling to find the words to describe what it was like going into my first surgery. I am visualizing and truly feeling what it was like when I was sitting in the waiting room prior to getting prepped for surgery. I have always been very comfortable in hospitals and I have rarely ever felt fearful. Although, now that I sit here reminiscing on my first surgery a rush of emotions coarse through my body. I’m going back to a place where I had to be incredibly vulnerable experience. I sat naked under that crispy and cold hospital gown. I sat down with an administrator and they put a plastic wristband on my wrist. I am getting asked the same questions by multiple nurses. I see the anesthesiologist more than once. I talk about the risks- also more than once. I have to pee in a cup. I have to get my blood drawn. I need an IV placed and they missed… a lot. While all this is going on I have a hair net on. Which at the time it wasn’t helping my confidence, but of course I had no choice but to rock the shit out of it. They gave me a “happy” drug through my IV before rolling me into the operating room. The sensation of the medication entering my veins was incredibly crippling and it shoots like a dart through your arm. I was still coherent and a little giggly. Once we were in the operating room I felt this ice cold breeze and it was an it brought chills right over my body. I looked around and saw a robotic looking contraption hanging from the ceiling. It was towering over the hard metal table that I lay on during the surgery. The contraption I saw hanging was for my arm. My arm was to be hung from the ceiling so they could retrieve my rib.

During the whirlwind of the surgery prep I barely had a minute to process that I was actually going under anesthesia. Yes, you’re going under Court. You’re going to be passed the f**k out while the surgeon, residents, nurses and the anesthesiologist prep your entire body. A few of the nurses transferred me over to the brisk metal surgical table. As they transferred me over to the cold, metal table I heard all the commotion in the room. They lathered my chest, armpit and arm in an orange antiseptic. The antiseptic keeps the area sterilized. It kind of looks like a really shitty version of self-tanner. The drugs were close to working, but I was still able to observe what was going on around me. Everyone was moving so quickly and efficiently it was impressive. As I laid on my side the anesthesiologist started explaining to me what they were going to be doing. The nurse placed the oxygen canal up my nose. It almost felt like a cold winter day shooting right up nose. I started counting down from 10…Being competitive I wanted to try and count down all the way to zero. I think I only got to 7. 

Next thing you know, I’m nauseous as f*ck. It was the most nauseated feeling I think I have ever felt in my life. I was slowly waking up in recovery. Those three hours in surgery felt like 10 minutes. Those damn drugs made me SO F***ING nauseous. I was dry heaving, spinning and gagging. You don’t want to move any part of your body after surgery- let alone the location that they worked on. I was stuck in recovery for hours, due to the nausea. Usually, they like to get patients into a private room as soon as possible. My pain level was through the roof. Later we came to find out that my body metabolizes pain medications incredibly fast. So, trying to get my pain to an acceptable range was nearly impossible. Eliminating the nausea took about four hours after this surgery. 

Once I was transferred into my own room I screamed and cried for hours in agonizing pain. The pain felt like someone was taking a machete to my chest, arm and back. The pain was piercing every inch of my lungs. I could barely breathe. I truly felt like I couldn’t breathe. It hurt too much to take the slightest inhale through my nose. I am sharing all of this and it’s the MOST vulnerable I have ever been. For so long I did not want to talk about my pain and suffering, because I didn’t want pity. I want to stay strong. I want to always be a tough lil’ cookie. I want to help someone else (maybe that’s YOU) who has gone through an experience like this. I’m sure you’ve heard this statement, “you don’t know what it’s like, unless you’ve ACTUALLY experienced it”. Well that’s what I felt the first time a doctor told me, “you have this thing called, Thoracic Outlet Syndrome”. I am trying my best to reach other people so they can feel supported in some way. 

Moaning and groaning in pain is not pretty and it’s hard. It’s very difficult to be stuck in a hospital bed and not be able to scoot yourself up onto your pillow because every movement kills your body. Asking for help has to be one of the toughest things I’ve had to practice over the years. Asking for help while I am in a hospital where people are there to help me is actually really hard, but you know what? I didn’t really have a choice. Especially when I can’t even get up to pee. I had to pee in a bedpan. I had to lift up my bum with the help of two nurses and secure my booty onto the bedpan. I had to hope my pee didn’t get all over my legs. The only shower I was going to get was with baby wipes. They also have to measure my urine EVERY single time I peed. I know what you’re thinking it… How do you go number two? Yes, I called it number two, because I am sitting at a cafe and I feel like everyone can hear what I am typing. All the medications and antibiotics that they pump through my IV constipate the f***k out of you. Hello bloated belly. Constipation from drugs is the WORST feeling. The doctors don’t like to discharge you until your pain is manageable and you’ve had a bowel movement. Well, seeing as my lil’ body metabolized medications so quickly and I wasn’t meeting the release requirements. I ended up being in the hospital for about five days. Five days of red jell-o, weird hospital food and ice cubes. The nurses also continue waking you up at all hours of the night to give you medications and check vital signs. One thing that drove me completely insane was listening to the sounds of all the machines I was connected to. They beep all the f**king time. My parents and I were putting any blanket/jacket we had and would vigorously wrap them around the machines to try to lessen the noise. They had to attach me to an oximeter (it tracked my pulse and oxygen levels). This specific oximeter was placed on my finger and connected to a machine- that also beeps. The reason they connected me to this is because I was struggling to breath due to the pain. They wanted to make sure I kept breathing. The machine would beep to remind me to breathe. Just another silly obnoxious beep to hear while I was sulking in pain. I couldn’t get ANY sleep. I can’t forget about the drain and wire I had coming out of my incision site. The drain was there to get remove excess blood where they removed the rib and muscles. The pain wire was deep into the surgical site to deliver medication to the same area to help eliminate pain.

Once I got the go ahead to leave the hospital I had to ride in a car. How else am I going to get home? Oh my goodness the car ride… I felt EVERY single bump and turn. I couldn’t brace myself because it hurt to brace my body. I couldn’t even think about sneezing. Sneezing was my evil twin. Do. Not. Sneeze. Also, don’t try and hold it in. F**k just don’t even let yourself think about sneezing. Once I got home it was an entirely new experience. I didn’t have a hospital bed that could move up and down. I had a bunch of pillows and a dog that wants to jump on me to make sure I was ok. At this point, I was one rib down. I didn’t even have a clue I would end up having THREE more surgeries. If you’re going to have a surgery I hope this doesn’t scare you. I want this to just give you an idea of what to expect and hopefully plan for yours (hopefully you can figure out a way not to have surgery). I am here to share experiences and help guide you through your Chronic Pain with nutrition, movement and more.