Hi Y’All. I am back. You didn’t get rid of me that easily. I made it through my gall bladder surgery. One of my centering scriptures was, Be still and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth -Psalm.46:10. In the not so distant past, I went to a German Fraktur lecture and bought several lovely examples of that calligraphy. I quickly framed them in neon green picture frames that I had bought at an Anthropologie store. One was the Psalm that I just referenced. It helped me to quiet my mind and nerves from time to time before the surgery. That verse is a life raft that we can all grab a hold of and contemplate. And as we contemplate its’ meaning, somehow everything falls right into place! God is in control folks.
After the surgery, another Fraktur calligraphy of the word “gratitude” was reflective for me. So many people reference the word “gratitude” in art work at their home or in their office. But, just who or what are we gratitude to and for? It matters. In life, there is so much gratitude that we should have of course. We should be grateful to our parents, our friends, mentors and others. However, first and foremost when I look at this lovely framed example of Fraktur I immediately know that I am thinking of God and all that he has done for me in the weeks and months before my surgery. I am grateful for the Holy Spirits’ presence now in my Post-Op/ Post-Game world too. In fact, when my surgery was over and the nurse informed me that it was all over. I remember feeling wide-awake and breaking out in a big smile. How happy I was as I exclaimed, “thank you Lord!”
It has now been one full week of recuperation and I had my Post-Op/Post-Game doctor’s appointment. They pronounced me on the mend and doing well. However, I love the way they give you the big sell on getting a surgery and then afterwards, they spring a whole bunch of life-long digestive problems that may ensue. Is it any wonder that people decry the medical profession or seek alternative medicine? While they are not a perfect institution, they are THE INSTITUTION to be beat and no one has yet. So, we have to deal with the system. On the day of the surgery, the team assembled to do my surgery treated me with dignity and respect.
I thought that one of the downsides of moving out of Westchester County New York might be worst medical care. After all, New York City area hospitals consistently rank high in industry wide comparisons. Having experienced treatment in those major facilities and coming along side others also getting treatment at these hospitals did not convince me of their often reported superiority. In fact the opposite. I felt that patients are often treated insensitively. There are language barriers when dealing with medical staff who did not score as high on language arts as they seemingly did in the medical sciences. At times it feels like calling a customer service line for some computer help and not understanding what the person on the other lines was saying. My parents were both born in other countries so English was their second language. However, communicating with excellence in whatever language we spoke was considered important. The care is spotty at best and depends on who is on duty that day. Wait times are horrific too.
So, when I looked at the pros and cons of leaving my native state of New York, I did so with my eyes wide open. There always seems to be the sense that big city care is state of the art. But, what about quality of life and care? I began by praying to God to move to the place that he wanted me to be. I asked that he would guide and direct me to a place where I wasn’t the only Christian or conservative on my block. But, now that I had to get my first surgery I had to accept the choice that I made to move to a more remote location. What ended up happening on the day of my surgery was what I was hoping for i.e. a small town experience, my own personal Hallmark movie. Everyone looked me in the eye that day and communicated effectively about the procedure that I was about to undergo and my aftercare. I was educated and prepared for my surgery and recuperation. People treated me kindly and gently. Their techniques that morning seemed well-orchestrated. Most important to me, there were Christian scriptures on people’s desk, and on the walls. A conservative channel was playing on the television screen. Maybe I will live a couple years less here but, it is not how long we live, it is the quality of our life. I can breath here. I can be myself here. Thank you God for bringing me here, getting me through difficult things and please bless the people who cared for me that day.
