Thank you to all who prayed, sent positive thoughts and encouraging words before, during and after my surgery this past Thursday.

I worked as a nurse on a surgical unit during a part of my nursing career. Most every surgery followed the same path. Mine has been no exception.

In the weeks before surgery, you try not to think about it. You plan plenty of distractions.

As it gets closer, you are forced to plan around it. You reluctantly have to admit you won’t be available at a certain time because you have agreed to allow someone to open a part of your body with a knife.

If you are like me, you start reading everything ever written about your particular surgery. You imagine every possible outcome from dying to waking up as an alien on another planet.

You repeatedly tell yourself you can cancel it at any time. But you also realize there was a reason you scheduled it in the first place.

As the day gets closer, you start to review your Will and think a lot about heaven and hell. You talk to God a lot, trying to be sure all is well between you.

You read scripture, trying to pull out the ones that make life sound like a walk in the park instead of being eaten alive by worms.

You hate to admit weakness. You value your privacy. But you realize you need prayer partners. You ask. And you are so very thankful when people respond. You are comforted. You start to believe you can do this thing.

The day before surgery, you are not so sure. You realize this is clinch time. You try to be still. You try to have faith. You try to be prepared. You try, even when God tells you you don’t need to try. He is in charge.

The night before surgery you don’t sleep much. You tell yourself it won’t matter since you are going to be put to sleep the next morning. You try to erase that phrase — “put to sleep.” It sounds too much like an animal’s final trip to the vet.

The morning of surgery, you are thankful God gives you an amazing dose of His Peace that passes all understanding. You actually check in to the surgical suite and don’t bolt for the door.

You give every staff member your health history, even though you already filled in an exhaustive health history on line. You try desperately to remember if your great grandmother had an ingrown toenail.

You sign all kinds of long forms with such tiny print that you are not sure whether you just signed your house over to them or not.

You pause for a long moment when they ask you whether you have a living will. The words “living” and “will” don’t sound like they should be in the same sentence.

You allow the nurses to put a needle in your arm. And in a few minutes, you are laughing and singing and offering to give them any body parts they want.

You wake up what seems like a few minutes later. You feel like you are still at the bar somewhere, but you can’t remember which one. A nice person helps you get dressed while you try to figure out why you are not already dressed.

They tell you that you are doing fine after your surgery. You wonder if they are drunk too since you don’t feel you had surgery.

You wake up in your rocking chair at home several hours later and wonder who hit you with a baseball bat. When your husband asks you, if you need pain medicine, you squeak out a yes.

The day after surgery, you feel intensely grateful to be alive. You realize you had surgery. You survived it. You don’t have to dread it any more. You look forward to your new life. You thank God. You go back to sleep.

Day two after surgery. You feel more awake and even a bit energetic. You believe you will get up and clean the house. You get up and think, maybe not. You go back to sleep. You repeat this process throughout the day.

Day three after surgery. You are frustrated you can’t do more. You are bored. You are restless. You start to wonder if you are having complications. You talk to God. He says to be still and know He is God. He is with you.

Day four after surgery. Your sutures itch. You want them out … now … not next week. You try not to scratch. You think of all your prayer partners, who even now are praying and sending good wishes. You are very thankful.

You write a post to let them know why you have been MIA for a few days. You hope they understand and will keep praying.

Thank you so much, my friends. You are a blessing. Please keep praying!

About carolynpriesterjones

Follower of Jesus, Seeker of Truth, Commentator on Life, Light Bearer, Water Carrier, one of God's Creations still under construction

One response »

  1. Davv says:

    Thank you for sharing your journey, Carolyn. Can relate to it except wanting to clean the house! Get well soon. Dave

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