Surgery day~Happily a thing of the past!

My grandmother had surgery this week & it's gotten me thinking about some of my memories of my own surgery.  The day before the surgery we (my parents and myself) met the anesthesiologist and surgeon.  I especially appreciated the surgeon taking so much time to answer my questions and putting to rest some of my concerns that I can thank Web MD for!!  :P  He was a pediatric surgeon, so I don't think he was quite as accustomed to his patients asking so many intelligent sounding questions.  He was also very patient with my parents and reassured my mother (who is a nurse and had her own novel worth of questions). 

The day of the surgery we had to be at the hospital at the crack of dawn, which didn't really matter because I hadn't slept all that well to begin with.  About a dozen people were waiting in the surgery intake area and I was the youngest by far.  Nerves were quickly eased when we loaded onto the elevator and two sweet, old ladies whose wheelchairs were facing each other started talking about having a duel and motioning their canes at one another.  As we left the elevator, they reached across and sqeezed each other's hands & expressed well wishes as they each prepared for their own operations.  When facing surgery, the boundaries that humans create exist no more.  We all hope and pray for similar outcomes.

Once they'd taken me back to change & such, it was just Mom & I for a while.  I have no idea what my dad did during this time...Probably sleep & I couldn't blame him for that!! None of us are morning people! Eventually, an anesthesiologist resident came in to start my IV & give me a medication to relax me.  I believe her name was Dr. Maggie and she was the world's absolute sweetest person.  I may not remember all that we talked about, but I will never forget how comfortable she made me feel!! I seriously wouldn't mind adopting her as an older sister!  Maybe one day I'll track her down, hehe.  But I absolutely felt that God placed her there in order to ease my fears.  She was my modern-day angel, I guess you could say.  Once they let my dad come back & I prayed and said good-bye to my parents, they took my glasses off & I couldn't see a thing!  I distinctly remember Dr. Maggie grabbing my hand as they rolled me down the hall to the OR.  She said something to the effect of "I'm not going anywhere."  Whatever it was that she said gave me such a peace  that I know God's hand was right there with me too.  I also recall the anesthesiologist asking if I was "ready to rock'n'roll, kiddo" and the surgeon coming in to make sure I was ok.  Then came the gas mask, and the rest of my morning was history (I much prefer it that way, too!).

When I came to, around 1:30 in the afternoon, or so I've been told, I vaguely remember telling someone (I'm told it was my parents) that I'd been "hit by a bus."  I'm grateful that I can't really remember what exactly that felt like, but I know I'd never felt that way before, nor do I want to ever feel that way again!  I won't bore you with the details of my afternoon (it was pretty low-key, to say the least!!), but I thank God every day for the wonderful nurses and surgeon that he put in my path, as well as for the wonderful creation of painkillers!!

Overall, I think this whole experience was more difficult for my parents than for me.  I know they worried and that in and of itself nearly broke my heart (or what was left of it to break!!).  The hardest part for me was that first night in the hospital, especially since I was in the ICU, where they check on you hourly and you  have the stinkin' beeps and buzzes from the machines all night!  Again, I'm so grateful for night shift nurses (my mother is one, holla!!).  My only saving grace that night and my only hope to get any rest, was my iPod.  I remember hitting replay over and over again and just letting the encouraging words of Tenth Avenue North take me away to another place.  The lyrics to "Hold My Heart" especially touched me that night as it is easy to feel like we are not important to God, after all we're just ONE person.  However, God doesn't care if you're worried about a test, worried about paying bills, or worried about open heart surgery.  No matter how small you think your problem is, it matters to Him and I certainly needed that reminder that night in the ICU.  If you've never heard the song, I encourage you to listen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ry6udsW9leA&feature=related

"So many questions without answers, You're promises remain....Could the Maker of the stars hear the sound of my breaking heart?....Would You come close and hold my heart?"

Praying you all have a wonderful week!
Joyfully,
Emily