This year, the dates in relation to the days of the week are the same as they were in 2019 which caused me to remember even more.
Five years is a milestone which also caused me to remember. I will always remember the date, but it will likely be less and less as the years go by.
Because it has only been five years, I still remember certain things very vividly.
I still remember what we ate for supper the night before my surgery. I remember the all natural lavender soap and body cream I used in and after my shower the night before my surgery.
I still remember the clouds in the sky the morning of my surgery. It looked like someone had stretched out a soft, fluffy, white blanket across the sky with patches of sunlight peaking through.
I still remember the kind, young nurse who gave me some things to use on myself before my surgery. I remember the blue hospital gown and yellow socks she gave me to put on.
I remember the IV that was put into my hand before surgery. I remember questions I was asked by another, older nurse who was not so kind. I remember my doctor coming to say hello to me before surgery.
I remember being wheeled away for surgery, and that was about it. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up, and then, I was only half awake.
I remember asking the nurse where my family was. I also remember asking if Jesus loved me. I also asked if I could please go to the land of Israel.
I laugh now at some of my questions caused by the anesthetic. I vaguely remember being wheeled down halls and into my room.
I remember my kind doctor coming to see me later that afternoon. I remember her telling me that she had to take the organ I hoped would not be taken. I accepted it just fine when she told me, but later that evening, the tears came.
I had prayed so hard for a miracle. I had hoped so much to publish a blog post titled:
A Thanksgiving Miracle
Sadly, no miracle had occurred.
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| My heart was sad and heavy like a wilted rose. |
I remember being in and out of sleep that afternoon and evening thanks to the anesthetic. Friends came to see me that evening.
I remember someone telling me that, if I wanted supper, I should order something from the menu soon because the kitchen closed at 9:00 p.m.
Supper? I hadn’t even thought of it. My sense of time was completely off. Since supper was offered and encouraged, I remember looking at the menu, and I ordered a bowl of vegetable soup. It was so wonderful, so comforting, and so nourishing. It was the perfect thing to eat after being cut open and going through major surgery. I will always remember that wonderful bowl of soup.
I remember nurses coming in that night to check on me every so often and to give me medicine.
I remember I was barely able to walk to the bathroom from my bed, but I was encouraged to do so with the help of a nurse.
I remember my kind doctor waking me up early the next morning before the sun came up.
“Erin” she said in a gentle whisper.
“Can I see your incision?”
After examining me, she said something like:
“You appear to be healing well. You can go home today after you eat breakfast.”
I was happy for the good report, but I needed a little more sleep before I could eat breakfast.
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| The morning after my surgery, Wednesday, November 20, 2019. |
I still remember looking at the menu for breakfast that morning, and I laugh now at what I ordered. The anesthesia was still very much in my system.
I saw blueberries on the menu and decided that I wanted blueberries. That would be healthy.
I was so happy with my bowl of blueberries that was delivered to my room. I still remember how much I enjoyed those blueberries.
Then I realized that, if all I ate for breakfast was blueberries, I might be hungry. And so I decided to order hash browns as well.
I laugh to this day over my breakfast that morning - blueberries and hash browns! What a funny combination for breakfast! Both were delicious though, and the hash browns were very satisfying.
Who knows what else I might have ordered for breakfast that morning that I don’t remember. Anything is possible because there are parts of that day that are very hazy in my memory.
I remember asking a young nurse if I could weigh myself before leaving that morning. She was so kind and brought a scale into my room so I could weigh myself. I was thrilled to see numbers I hadn’t seen in years. Losing an almost 15 pound fluid-filled cyst at once was quite amazing!
The organ I lost (my left ovary) due to that huge cyst was not so amazing.
I remember that day that I went home. A nurse went over my medication with me on some papers she gave me. I understood her very well, but because of the anesthesia that was still in my body, my sense of things, including time, was very off.
The following day, Thursday, November 21st, I was back at the hospital because my pain had gotten completely out of control. I was given morphine for the pain that day. I still shudder when I think of that day.
Friday, November 22nd, I woke up at home with one of the most special dreams I have ever had. My doctor called me later that day with the good news that my cyst was completely benign. I was so thankful. That evening though, I had difficulty eating, and because of that, I couldn’t take my medication on time. Once again, I was back at the hospital during the night where they gave me a different pain medication to get my pain under control. I wondered if an angel might appear to take me home to heaven that night. I felt like I could no longer take any more pain. My incision was worse than a C section, which is usually horizontal. My incision was vertical.
Saturday, November 23rd dawned beautifully at home, and I finally saw the light of day. I felt like I began regaining strength. I rested well at home that day along with Sunday, November 24th. I praised the Lord that morning in bed. I was so grateful to God. I began to feel like myself again.
That Sunday evening, a large snow storm was brewing over the mountains west of our home. I was happy to be comfortably resting in my cozy bed at home.
But that Sunday night, the realization of what I lost hit me so hard. I didn’t only go through major surgery; I lost an organ. I lost hormones that organ produced.
I curled up and cried for several days while lots of beautiful snow came down that Monday and Tuesday, November 25th and 26th.
A beautiful Bible was sent to me from a dear friend that week. Another friend sent me flowers. Another friend sent me a variety of tea bags. God blessed me through them.
I remember all of the precious, and beautiful, and wonderful things over that time. I remember God’s presence and love over that time.
But I also remember the pain and the tears.
I healed well, and sometime during those 6 weeks, I asked my doctor a very odd question.
I wanted to know, and so I asked her:
“What does medical pathology do with my organ after they are done testing it?”
“Where does it go?”
I apologized to her if I was asking too many questions, but that organ was a part of me.
I genuinely wanted to know. What happened to it? Where did it go?
She was kind and assured me that my question was fine. She shared that my organ was disposed through a medical waste procedure.
I checked to see how it was medically disposed. I got my answer. It was incinerated. It was burned.
My organ was literally burned to ashes.
Words from Isaiah 61:3 came to my mind:
“… to give unto them beauty for ashes…”
Beauty for ashes?
I saw nothing good or beautiful in losing a small organ. To this day, I have had nothing good or beautiful come from losing a God given organ.
Most who’ve lost a limb or an organ would agree.
There is nothing greater on earth than human life.
Beauty for ashes. What does that mean?
To understand the context of that verse, I had to read that chapter and the surrounding verses.
The Lord was speaking, through the prophet Isaiah, to His people Israel in those verses.
God’s people had, sadly, turned away from Him and from His Word. Therefore, God sent them away from their homeland, Israel, to go into exile as punishment.
But, the Lord spoke through Isaiah of a future day, a future time to come. That chapter begins with:
“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.”
Isaiah 61:1-3
This chapter (and the entire book of Isaiah!) shares so many glorious prophecies given to the nation of Israel - prophecies that have not been completely fulfilled yet!
Some of this chapter was fulfilled when Christ came to earth the first time, and He literally read, out loud, from this very chapter. But, He stopped reading before He got to certain verses.
There is more to be fulfilled in the future with Christ’s second coming.
That includes beauty for ashes.
For God’s people, the story, your story and mine, never ends with ashes.
It ends with beauty.
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| White, November rose on one of our bushes. |
For God’s people, the best is yet to come.
“Therefore the redeemed of the LORD shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”
Isaiah 51:11
