Here and There
I’m pondering the best way to handle this blog now. I have so much to say about my stay in the hospital and recovery from this surgery, but I’m not sure if I should tackle it chronologically, reflecting on one day at a time, or not. Right now, still under the effects of anesthesia, my mind is not working chronologically, it’s working like one of those lottery machines where the little balls are blown around in the plastic globe and one randomly pops up through the tube. So I think I’ll handle it that way–as thoughts arise I’ll write them down.
Forgive me if this seems like a bunch of random thoughts . . . that’s what it is. That’s who I am right now.
In pre-op, the anesthesiologist visited me to inform me of all the potential risks of “going under” including that most forboding of all, death. When he had finished and I had signed on the line by the little scratched X he asked me if I had any requests. I said, “Just make sure I stay asleep.” He assured me that was something he could do.
The next thing I remember is scooting myself (shoulders, hips, heels, etc.) from the operating gurney to the hospital bed. Jen says she was mortified they made me do it myself because I looked like they’d just dug me out of the morgue. I was gray, gaunt, and cold.
The only other thing I remember about Wednesday is the surgeon coming in my room and telling me the surgery went well. Oh yeah, and I remember later that night getting a roommate who snored like a dinosaur with sinus issues and had his TV on all night.
My worse experience in the hospital? The catheter. It didn’t work right. I hated it. I wanted it out. When it was finally removed, I celebrated and my mood immediately lightened. And as Forrest Gump said, “That’s all I have to say about that.”
Laying in that hospital bed, I honestly felt removed from everything, including God. Everyone has their own pit, their own “miry clay” that they’ve been stuck in. David had his, Jeremiah had his, Paul, Peter, and we all know Jesus had his. It’s when we feel like crying out, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” When I was alone in that room, just me and my discomfort and worries I was crying that. But God is faithful, and He keeps His promises (I am with you always) and through His Word and various others (Jen being the most notable) He assured me that I was not alone.