July 3, 2013… arrive at 9:00 a.m. with a surgery start time of 11:00 a.m. Dr. Brenda’s surgery from 11:00 to 1:00 and Dr. Grawe’s plastic surgery magic commences at 1:00 and will conclude at 2:30 or 3:00. Overnight bag packed, 2 dogs and 1 cat fed, parents showered, sisters arrive on the scene, adult children up and rising and a’ shining. It’s GO TIME…
We check in with a really nice young lady. She is so friendly and upbeat- I find myself wanting to chat with her so we won’t need to proceed any further. Then off to get weighed, blood pressure taken, urine analyzed, and to offer reassurances to every hospital employee who asks if I could possibly be pregnant. 🙂
We go to the surgery waiting area. The curtain is drawn and I am now the proud owner of a new gown and an IV. I answer more questions about my lump, which breast is that again, what are you having done, etc., etc. The nurse’s voice is beginning to sound a lot like the teacher in “Charlie Brown.” Her lips are moving and she’s looking at me- but what is she saying?! Focus, I tell myself.
A new nurse arrives and explains it’s time for me to go downstairs to Radiology for a shot in the side of my nipple. The needle will inject dye into my breast tissue. The dye will light up the nodes that my tumor would most likely drain lymphatic fluid to and possibly deliver cancer cells there as well. Dr. Brenda will have an instrument that sounds something like a “Geiger Counter” to let her know where these lymph nodes reside. Those will be the nodes that are dissected. A young man- an orderly- I love this word!- comes on the scene and whisks me away in the elevator to go downstairs to Radiology. We stop outside a door and he rings what resembles a tiny doorbell. He turns to me and says that someone will come out in a few minutes and then he says, “Good luck.”
I wait, lying on my gurney. No one is in the hallway. I wonder if this is what dying will be like someday. You wait outside a door and wonder who will be opening it. Minutes tick by and no one comes. I’m starting to feel cold and wonder what I should do if the door doesn’t open. I mean I’m wearing a hospital gown, tethered to an IV, and I have no idea how to get back to my original starting point. A nurse comes from down the hall and asks how long I’ve been waiting. I must look a little forlorn- she opens the magic door- goes inside and comes back out smiling. Just a few more minutes she says. She asks if I’m cold and brings me a blanket.
The wizard opens the door and I’m wheeled in. A nurse is there with a doctor. Suddenly this seems a little too real. The nurse offers to hold my hand. The doctor instructs me to put my other hand under my backside. Apparently in the past women have flailed their arm at him when the needle goes is. He obviously doesn’t know I am the epitome of medical self-control. He says it will feel like getting a flu shot- only in your nipple. Hmmmmmmmmmm… I just have to say that no flu shot has ever felt quite like that.
We go back to the surgery waiting area and the nurse retrieves Bob to wait with me. My kids, my parents, and my sisters take turns coming back to see me. Dr. Brenda checks in with us. I ask if she will pray with us. She holds my hand and the three of us pray. Bob gives me a kiss and off I go.
The operating room feels cold and is a flurry of activity. Someone asks me to stretch my arms out horizontally. I think to myself that this is how Jesus’ arms were outstretched for me. I wonder how I’ll feel when I wake up… I pray… I fall asleep.
It’s GO TIME…