Surgery

The pain is intense, but not as intense as what brought me to this sterile environment in the first place. Loaded with the baggage of past doctors not taking me seriously, and a carry-on of nerves that this new doctor will look at me the same way. Off I went to the main entrance of St. Anthony's in Crown Point. Accompanying me to the surgical waiting area was my mother-in-law and her sister-in-law I know as Aunt Beth. We sit still and quite for a few moments. I remove my contact lenses and store them neatly in my tiny purse. I'm wearing comfortable shoes, swooshie pants, and long sleeved t-shirt. Ready? Not sure. To be opened up delicately with almost invisible scars was the easy part. Hearing bad news when it was all over, the agonizing part. Finally my name is called and I meet with a nurse who helps me put on my heated hospital gown, start my IV, and sign consent forms. The ladies come in soon after I am dressed to give me a few more encouraging words before I'm wheeled away.
My nurses so calm and polite, not like I was used to when trying other hospitals. They all seemed to have my back. They encouraged me just as much as the family I chose to bring with me. The surgical nurse comes in, checks my IV, and announces it's time to go. Waiving goodbye to the ladies I'm whisked away down a long hall and into a room full of bright lights. I was told the anesthesiologist was a cutie by mom-in-law but without my eyes I couldn't tell. He loads me up with what seemed like too much general anesthesia. Don't even remember being asked to count. A few hours later I awake a little disoriented and curious. My nurse tells me I've been out for quite some time and asks me to sit up if possible. She informs me that my doctor has already spoken to the family and to me. I have no recollection of seeing him after my surgery was complete. Then, the bad news. No endometriosis. Surely this doctor will write me off as a nut case like all the others before him. Instead, to my delight, he has told my mother-in-law that he intends to get to the root of my problem and that he doesn't think the pain is in my head. Some of my symptoms, although not all, are attributed to my uterus resting on my colon. Unfortunately the ways of correcting this is worse than not correcting it. But, nonetheless I have one reason for one symptom of my agony. My gracious doctor prescribes pain medication. Relief at last.
I head home after refreshments of grahm crackers and apple juice. Aunt Beth helps me out of the car and up the icy steps of my in-laws home. I take a moment to mourn the thought of no escape for now. I try to lift my own spirits and remind myself that things could be much worse. They've found no cancer. What else could be so joyous? Cancer free, endometriosis free. I suppose these truths should satisfy me at least until I get to see doctor again. December 31st. Perhaps I will have good news to start the new year with? We will see. For now I endure the pain of my surgery as well as the original pain. One day at a time is too big a step for me. I try to enjoy any hour of pain free living. When my pain arrives again, I will strive to look forward to the few times the pain is gone and never give up on a source or treatment.
If you are reading this and feel led to pray for me, I could use all the ones I can get. Thanks.

Autumn's Two

I sit sometimes and listen to her play. I watch the curiosity in her eyes as she explores a fresh look at an old toy. I stare at her sweetly and smile when she sings songs to herself in the most out of key little toddler voice. I marvel at her mind and at her wit, her already sarcastic and sassy character on top of a loving and innocent little spirit. I giggle at her attempts to be "mommy" to her dolls and stuffed items, pointing and scolding, rocking them and loving them. I'm truly baffled at her increasing knowledge. She'll be two on Sunday. I can't believe how quickly time has passed and I'm certain college will be here long before I'm ready. I look forward to continue watching her grow and learn, but I am also content with today. I cherish all moments. Even during the wretched tantrums when I'm ready to pull out every strand of hair God has placed on my head, I'm simultaneously thinking about how each of these 'episodes' will make for a few laughs later on in her life. For now I move on from exciting fit to precious moments. I want so much to enjoy my little girl with the realization that we cannot get our pasts back. I want to continue my proud parent streak as each day passes by feeling as though I missed nothing and enjoyed every bit of her childhood. I want to make sure I appreciate the tender years the Lord has blessed me with. This amazing treasure, Autumn Noel, my gift from the Lord above, has brought me unmistakable delight. She has brought my life new meaning. She has brought meaning to life in general. I am so proud to have gone from Joyce, to "Autumn's Mom." My identity not taken away, but in fact given more definition. An extra chapter added to my story. The "happily ever after" portion. Happily ever after. That sounds nice.

There was a time I didn't think happy was in the stars for me. But in the last year alone I have found that happy is a choice. Change the things you can and accept what you cannot. Since the birth of my glorious child I have experienced loss, deep sadness, medical mysteries... But I have also experienced true joy, love, and answers to prayers that I have prayed for years. God himself has shown me what he is capable of. I hope that I can show these truths to my daughter. That she can grow up not blind or naive to pain, but aware of it and aware of her choices when faced with it. I'm refreshed in my spirit, in my soul. I'm excited for the days to come. Whatever they may be.

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