Not So Profound Thoughts on Sunday Morning

It is a beautiful Sunday morning out here in prairie land.  The rooms on the east side of our home are awash with bright sunlight.  Buddy has gone back for her early morning nap and I sit here grateful overflowing with thanksgiving that I am out here in prairie land, taking in the sun and my heart is beating in sync, not lurching, not vibrating or racing.  It just is beating like it should without having to feel every motion of the beat. 

The prognosis is good.  I need to take it easy for the next week or so, no lifting of anything over five pounds.  I am trying to parlay this into a maximum benefit as I tried to do so after the hysto in 2005.  No stairs for a week.  Darn it!  I so wanted to climb stairs.  No riding the trek for a week.  Today I have to remove the bandages from the two incisions.  I thought they only made one and only found about the two on Friday morning when one of my doctor's associates came in to explain the procedure. I think I became a human pin cushion.  I've always had such good veins but alas I was informed that as we get older our veins tend to roll just like Tina Turner, Rolling on the River.  My hands, wrists and arms look like I do drugs.  My stomach and legs are rather bruised from the surgery as well.  I think I have enough blood thinner in me for 17 people.  Yet on this beautiful Sunday morning I sit behind this computer, drinking coffee out of my favorite mug, so thankful to the Lord for successful surgery and for friends who have circled me with love, their presence and their genuine love and concern.  I sit here so thankful for a wonderful and loving husband who made huge sacrifices to accompany me on Thursday and stay with me Friday night.  He always says hospitals are a different place at night and you need an advocate to keep watch and go fetch. 

Prior to surgery, you have to have a procedure done and how shall I say this????  Oh, if I still wore bathing suits I would have this done.  It is a surreal experience.  I mean really. What do you say?  That is how I manage "anxious incidents."  I talk.  I almost asked for one of those warm towels to be put over my face until everything is finished. Freda, my "spa" attendant was relieved to see my name on her chart because she hates having to do this procedure on men because it includes stomach, chest and back.  There are the lovely hospital curtains separating you from others and you can hear the buzz of the shaver almost like a trio performing.  It's weird that is all I can say.  I did like the hot blankets, that was very spa-esk.  Then you have a wave of different people asking you all kinds of things.  What is your name?  Can you spell it?  What's your birth date?  Can you make a silly face?  Can you smile?  It was during some of these tests it was determined I do have a brain. 

It's funny how we deem milestones for major life altering changes.  We acknowledge graduations, marriages, anniversaries, birthdays and the like but in hospitals milestones come with not so much grandeur or fanfare but ever so important as anything mentioned above.  It's funny when body functions that we take for granted have to be "performed" before one can go home, going to the bathroom or passing gas becomes life's one true goal for that one shinning moment.  I asked if I had to show my work or would they take my word for achieving a milestone.  They assured me they would take my word.  For the record I didn't lie, I achieved those goals almost immediately.  You know I was feeling pretty good, I aced the echo, stayed still for over 12 hours in one position, and performed milestones on command.  I think I was an A- student for my stay, I am taking a slight deduction for rolling veins. 

After being on a sodium restricted diet in the hospital it was good to taste real food again.  Actually the food wasn't bad, it's just only yogurt and eggs sounded good to me.  Last night one of the ladies from my core group came over with a bag full of goodies.  Corn Chowder, one of my love languages, homemade cookies, homemade rolls, kumquats, Chinese Duck Soup and homemade granola.  What a treat!  The biggest treat was getting to visit with Margaret for over an hour.  Roy is getting to put faces with names.  The teaching director at Katy CBS, Jennifer, came down to the hospital, sat with Roy and welcomed me back into the land of the living. 

So glad I have on some of my best pajamas to watch web church.  Choir, I'll be so happy to see and sing with you.