Day 1…Tumor Can’t Be Removed

While the doctor explained the situation to me, my mind tried to open up to understand every word he was saying.  He drew little pictures which I now know I misunderstood (he is the surgeon and I am the stunned wife with only Dr. Google to rely upon). We both were doing our best and I just wanted to see my husband but was assured it would be a little while as he was waking up in recovery.  Were these all the answers to my questions about his disease? Never, but it would have to be enough for now.

What seemed like forever came to an end and I went up to the floor of this modern hospital and glanced out the windows when the elevator doors opened.  The storm during the night had rattled the nearby hotel we had booked, but now the day looked bright and sunny.  I was trying to hold on to the faith I profess and knew that God would make all things right when I surrendered to whatever His will might be.  So the sunshine was a pleasant answer from Him–everything would happen as it was supposed to happen.

I saw my husband lying in a bed with tubes running here and there–the nose tube was the one that looked the most uncomfortable and it would be there for a while the nurse reassured me. It’s purpose was to drain out the mucus I guess. The catheter was  collecting the urine and that bag was hanging on the far side of the bed. Better there than to be visible from the door and hall. At least there could be a little dignity for the patient that way. All this may seem pretty graphic for some of you, but that’s the way it is when a person is recovering from surgery. The room was huge and the bathroom was well stocked with toiletries and towels.  (It was for my use as well and I would appreciate it for the night to come.)  It would not be shower time for a while for this patient, but the nurses would let him know. Just sponging off for a few days would have to be okay for him.

The tubes running here and there were signs that he had just had major surgery, but the smile he managed told me he was fine. Faith and acceptance is his mantra.

That night was a nightmare with nurses running in an out, but I was happy to be at his side just because.

Whatever that doctor said to him in the first few days was lost in the fog of leftover anesthetic and I tried to remember everything I could.  He is tough, but the most important thing to remember these days has been his handicap and most recent golf score…don’t ask him because he will deny that’s true.  Maybe he doesn’t need to analyze every single word like I do because he accepts what God has in store is God’s business.  What faith!

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