Heart Journey: The Waiting Room

I've been asked by several people if I will blog about the journey I'm on in this heart surgery. I realize my situation is not unique; I've already had multiple people tell me about their own situation or the situation they heard of that went terribly wrong. I have also been down this road before—eighteen and a half (or so) years ago. So my initial thought was, "No, I don't think I will." But the more I've reflected and thought and prayed about it, I've changed my mind. Perhaps my words can be of help to someone else down the road who might be facing a similar situation for the first time. Perhaps these words might even help someone right now who is going through a similar situation. I will never claim to know how someone else is feeling or what they're thinking. I can only speak of my own journey, which is what I will do. Feel free to skip these blog entries if you like (they will only be periodic, not every day); I'll title each of them (when they come up) with the words "Heart Journey" so you can easily skip them.

Here's where we are right now.

Last week, I had a transesophageal echocardiogram (which, for ease of typing, will be referred to in the future as a TEE), the results of which I will receive this coming Friday when we meet again with my surgeon. To the best of my understanding, that test (which may be coupled with a heart catheterization) will determine a couple of things: first, what kind of valve I will need and second, what method will be used for the surgery itself. Those are the medical facts as they stand currently.

How do you prepare for such an event in your life? Professionally, it's been difficult because I don't have a surgery date yet. (Hopefully we will also get that on Friday.) When I did this before, I was a solo pastor, no staff, and so in some respects it was easier. We've tried to make arrangements to cover what we know is coming (as best we can know) and are waiting to nail down final details until we have a date.

Personally, it's...well, knowing what to expect, I think, makes it harder. In my memory, the seven days I spent in the hospital are a bit blurry but the days of recovery at home are not. I was very sick, partly due to an (at that time) unknown allergy to codeine, and very tired. I've told several folks I'm not really dreading the surgery as much as I am the recovery. I like to be active. I like to be busy. I'm not good at slowing down, and this recovery period (it was six weeks last time, and, as I have been reminded, I am older now) will force me to slow down. It will force me to let others care for me. It will force me to be dependent. None of those are bad things; all of those things, actually, are Biblical! They just rub against my normal way of operating. Perhaps God is trying to teach me something...?

So we're waiting, and praying, and living in very thankful ways. Long ago, even before the first surgery, I found Psalm 27 to be a comforting word from Scripture, and it has since become my
favorite psalm (if not my favorite passage of Scripture over all). The end of that psalm says this:

I remain confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord (27:13-14).

In the land of the living—the psalmist was not content with the platitudes we often offer about everything being better "in the sweet by and by." The hope he had was that God would show up here, now, in this place and in this time. He was confident of this: God's goodness must be proved in the "land of the living" if it was ever going to be true and real. I have seen this to be true over and over and over again. God shows up in good ways. He always has, and he always will.

Even when we're in the waiting room. Especially when we're in the waiting room.

We remain thankful and humbled by your prayers.

Dennis & Cathy