Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Surgery Update

Good morning! And I really do mean that.
Hubby's surgery story started early yesterday with an 11:30 time slot. We were back in the outpatient area by around 12:30, and he was dressed for success!
 We had about an hour before he would eventually leave me for the "Heidi-can't-floow-along-and-annoy-us-with-her-constant-questions" doors, which gave him time to play a few rounds of poker on his phone and check ebay for some good book deals.
 Nurse Castro (YES! That was her name - well, her husband's anyway), came and hooked up the EKG machine to check his heart. (He's always had irregular heart beats, no one knows why)
 After a breifing by the OR nurse and the anethesiologist, they gave him a darling hat, and wheeled him out of my teary-eyed sight.
 It was about 55 minutes that the surgery lasted, but it felt like days. I'm sure that the feelings that the doctors and nurses had as soon as they passed the "NO HEIDI TALKING ZONE" was felt by God by the end of that 55 minutes. In fact, if he were to have wanted to talk back, he probably wouldn't have gotten the chance! It feels good, though, you know. You tell Him all your thoughts and feelings, and you let Him decide. He knows best, so all you can do is vent all your fears and anxieties out, and hand them over, and it feels good. Like you did all you can do at that moment in time.
When I saw Dr. Morris walking out of the OR, he wasn't smiling, holding a sticker or sucker or balloon out of his big strong hands for me, and I felt scared. He just said "Come on back."
(OHmuhgosh...I think I'm gonna BARF! MOVE, legs! MOVE!)
Every horrible movie scene is playing through my head right now and I can't believe he's going to take me back in front of all these nurses to tell me that my husband..
"Surgery went great! Everything went as good as possible. Hardly any blood, no complications - textbook operation."
(Ummm...BREATHE, Heidi! BREATHE!)
And that's when the tears started falling flowing pouring down. Could he even understand the words that were coming out of my mouth? Because I sure couldn't, and I could picture God watching the scene unfold, arms crossed, smiling. He puts one hand up to his forehead, rubbing it with his middle finger and thumb and shaking his head, chuckling, thinking "*sigh*, I think I added a little too much of the 'worry' gene with this one".
He sent me out with instructions to the horrible, smelly, no-wi-fi having waiting room once again until Hub came out of anesthesia.
I was thanking God for listening for that next 30 minutes. He heard all my prayers, and yours too, and delivered a "textbook" surgery. And I was grateful.
The nurse and the anesthesiologist both had come out, telling me he did great, and was I okay. Im thinking that wasn't protocol, but when your doctor tells you he couldn't understand a word that the patient's blubbering wife said, you probably aughta go and tell her it all went well...and make sure she was still breathing.
Hub had awaken, and I was sent back (Follow the red line!) to see him. A little tired and puffy, it was the sweetest thing I had seen in forever.
 Thank goodness he was still groggy. I think the nurse thought the giant water spot on the blanket was John spilling water with his drug enduced state, and not my tears of happiness and relief. This wouldn't be the first time, and probably not the last. I mean, really, how many times can you take advantage of THAT situation? ;)
After about half an hour of monitoring and drinking and twittering (Surgery updates on @JohnLiveStrong), we were given discharge papers and headed home.
 Like I said.
Drug. Enduced.
Ha ha!
 What a coincidence (or not) that our order of LIVESTRONG bands had been delivered that day, while we were away.
I asked you all to pray for a speedy recovery, and the power of prayer was heard. he awoke this morning with NO pain at all. Just a little sore, but nothing else. He even decided to head up to work. As a compromise, I asked him to come home for the day at lunch to rest a little more. He's nervous about future appointments. he doesn't have sick time or vacation left, so chemo and other surgeries are just unpaid medical leave. Unfortunately, for a one-income family, that comes with all too real consequesnces that weigh heavy on his shoulders, and I hate that it does. God will provide in one way or another, and I am not worried.
So, Thank you, friends and family, and church families, and strangers that have sent your prayers, provided meals, watched after our children, and listened to our worries and hopes. This step was a big one, as it pushes us into the battle against this great disease, and we have started off ahead!
The next few months will bring more information, more healing, more treatments, and more prayers, but we will win this fight.
Thank you to the heavens for guiding Dr. Morris's strong hands in surgery that resulted in such a positive outcome, for listening when I needed you to listen, and for providing us with angels in heaven and on earth, disguised as loved ones, to pass this test in life.

"Be anxious about nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6, 7

We are SO proud of you, my sweet hubby. You are, in every sense of the word, a fighter. Stronger than any UFC fighter or boxer that you love to watch on TV. You did it!
I love you.
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  1. Wonderful news, Heidi! Hoping for more and more in the months ahead!

  2. I've missed alot of your posts so I'm been playing catch up. I'm so sorry I didn't know you were going through this. This post makes me cry, your love for him is beautiful and your words are too. Thank you for the scripture. A boost of faith is needed every now and then.
    I was just reading Corrie Ten Boom quotes right before your blog. So perfect for this time.


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