Heart Journey: Strength Through Weakness
In fact, I have now—twice. This time, as expected, was different. The food was worse (you get older, they take more things away...like flavor), the technology is better, but the length of time spent there, at least for me, was the same. Seven days in the hospital. However, knowing to expect that meant I didn't get really upset when I wasn't able to go home after the "4-5 days" initially promised.
One week ago, I was in surgery. I don't remember most of that day, and it was a little weird going though things wondering, "Will I remember this when I wake up?" I did remember more this time than last (at least I got to see the operating room this time), but the evening after surgery is a glimpse of two images: my daughter feeding me ice chips and my wife kissing me goodbye before she went home.
The days in ICU were long, and there were more of them this time. The older gentleman in the room next to me, with whom I shared a nurse, was far worse off, which means I often did not see a nurse much. I prayed for him a lot and wonder even now if he made it. Not sure what was wrong, but I recognized the worried looks on the faces of his wife and daughters. As a pastor, I've seen those looks far too many times on the faces of others.
On Sunday afternoon, I was able to move to a "regular" room (I could have moved on Saturday, but none were open). The chairs are more comfortable in the "regular" room, and I was able to sit up for longer stretches of time. I also was walking more, and found myself hungrier. (Rachel's boyfriend Chase even brought me some baked chips...yum!) They still wake you up every two hours at night in a "regular" room to make sure you're resting comfortably, and the first night they put me on a bed alarm. When I got up to go to the bathroom, as I had been told I could do, the noise was loud and people came running from, it seemed, everywhere. They turned off the bed alarm after that night.
I have wounds, cuts, and bruises all over my body. I remarked to Cathy I felt like I had been put on one of those Japanese hibachi tables and was the center of the show. Besides the opening in my chest, I have two scars from the chest tubes, an incision in my neck and one in my groin, and many holes where IVs and central lines were put in. I hope the show was good.
We have continued to be thankful for and overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, support and prayers as we have made this journey during the last week. It is humbling and, at times, a bit hard to take for one as self-sufficient as myself. But I—we—are grateful and will never forget the ones who texted, came to visit, called (sorry I haven't yet felt like talking on the phone) and sent Facebook messages. I'm especially grateful for all those who kept Cathy entertained during the surgery—I'm told I had quite the full waiting room!
So, the most often asked question: how do you feel now that you are home? Well, that's at least the most-asked question of the last few hours. I am glad to be home, no doubt about it. There is nothing like sleeping in your own bed. But, while the "hardest part" physically might have been the surgery, I was asleep for that part. The hardest part, for me, is yet ahead: recuperation. I've said that repeatedly on this blog: the recovery takes far more time than I think it should and the challenge for someone like me is to not push it, to recognize that being home is not the magical antidote for anything. God will use time to heal the wounds I have, but I have to let him. So that's the focus of my prayers and Cathy's insistence to me in these days. Rest, heal, be stronger in the long run. And I can only do that by being weak now.
I thought I commented on this, but I’m glad you only had “Nurse Ratched” one night!
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