Monday, July 19, 2010
So About That Surgery... And Life And So Forth
As always, I subscribe to the Anne Lamott theory that there are really only two prayers in life; "Help me, Help me!" and "Thank you! Thank you!" That is pretty much my life story in 8 words. Really 4 words, repeated.
I had let a situation with my digestive system go out of control and then used my not-healthy-learned-as-a-child coping mechanism of ignoring pain for so long that it ultimately became normal. *sigh* Years of therapy and grace and yet I still flop along the Way! So it goes for us all, right?
Flippity, flop, flop, flop, flip - Jesus, here I come, I'm following you, thump by thump, oops, I tripped, I fell, I rolled again. Whoa! I'm sliding, wheee! Oh, it's backwards. Well, I'm tryin', I'm tryin'!
In any case, my poor self-care resulted in me getting full on surgery (Nurse! Scalpel STAT!), no little laproscopic thing for me! This included an infection, pancreatitis and a few other complications. Gangrene would not have surprised my doctor, but had not yet appeared, thanks be to God. 12 days later I feel much better and all I had to turn over, well along with my pride that is, was my gall bladder! Such a deal! *bigger sigh*
J.P. Drain; that gets surrendered back to the authorities on Wednesday however. Beats the hell out of a monitoring bracelet. If I were going to wear it longer, I might want to decorate it. Mark began to call it my "bile grenade," which totally works as a name for it.
Sadly I can report that I did not consume a morsel of food for 11 days, although for the final 4 I did have what I called "my milkshake" aka TPN, mainlined into my body via a PICC line. That actually, even more than being sliced open in two places, kind of grossed me out. Go figure.
In any event, I did not eat for 11 days and I lost a whopping 5 lbs, most of it muscle mass from laying in that hospital bed. Great. Despite daily walks around the floor and my use of the Voldyne 5000 (sounds scary!), I still had some minor fluid and lung collapse to deal with. That is almost all better now and I remain as full of hot air as ever. (As is evidenced here!)
Frankly the whole thing is really a gift. Aside from the part that I could have become more seriously impaired or died, I have had some good lessons. Not lessons in that "nyah-nyah be a good girl and do it right next time" way, although a little of that, but mostly in the gifts of surrender, humility and interdependence.
What will be sown from this journey? Will my lessons hold? I hope so, but then I almost always hope so and all kind of stuff happens. We'll see.
Thanks for all the good thoughts, prayers and wishes. As ever, I believe that I am carried on the wings of angels, even when doing my flopping around behind the feet of Jesus.