Every medical adventure has a story. Some are full of disappointments and sadness. Some are joyful and inspiring. Some are all of it. The following is the saga of several of my recent visits. Be prepared to be in awe of how God works.
After undergoing my first surgery, I faced the second one with a tiny bit of confidence. Confidence in my excellent surgeon, the medical staff, the very hospital. I was at peace and ready to get on with it.
Then he came into the room.
You know when the danger music in a movie begins, you begin to tense and maybe squint a bit, because you know it's going to get bumpy. You gird yourself and look around to see if everyone else is feeling the same way. The anesthesiologist assigned to my surgery, walked into the room tentavively and awkward, like a kindegartener on his first day. He held himself oddly. His eyes were wide and empty. He stayed away from me but then came to my side to hear better. I smiled and nodded, hoping to reassure him, since he appeared more nervous than I was. It was then I noticed his eyes rolling back and flutter. He seemed unable to comprehend what I was saying and kept referring to Pat as my interpreter. He patternly scribbled something on a scrap of paper, then returned it to his pocket. Again and again. Panic flooded my pre surgery nerves. Knowing that my mind catches all things in a room, I searched Pat's face for an assurance that I was overreacting. There was no affirmation there! He looked as unsettled as my mind felt. As the doctor turned to leave, my anxiety hit a new level, even for me with years of practice. There was only twenty minutes before they would be taking me to surgery. I knew if I reported it to an already bustling surgery center, everything would go to chaos. I was prepped and meds were ready to be administered. My sensitivity versus medical staff. My hunches versus screwing up a schedule. I asked one nurse if she knew much about the doctor but she was not familiar with him. There are a zillion docs in a large city medical facility. Pat and I looked at each other with so much doubt in our minds. At that exact moment, Old Neighbor Friend, in a different time zone, sent this text:
'As Joe and I were praying just now, a thought came to me to text you these words:
Fear not for I am with you. ( Isaiah 41:10) I will never leave you nor forsake you.' (numerous places in the bible)
And the fear began to fade.
I said to Pat that we might not have any control over what is going on with that doctor but I do know Who does. I do know that the Great Physician has a plan for this surgery and even though I am not privy to all the details, I BELIEVE that He does and that is where my peace comes from. My surgeon came in and instead of storming out the door, I readied myself for what was ahead, knowing my LORD was attending.
Days later, recuperating, I started investigating the doctor. There were many disciplinary actions against him in another state. I knew I had to do something. I contacted Nurse Friend and she gave me thoughts on how to address the situation in the form of a letter. After praying over the right words, carefully assuring the hospital and my surgeon that I have the utmost respect for the institution and its staff. But carefully pointing out the fear and concern I had in this one instance. The letter was delivered at my next appointment.
The offending doctor is now gone from my hospital.
While healing from that surgery, my Quiet Time took me to Luke 8: 22-25, the story of the disciples in a boat with Jesus when a fierce storm arises. Jesus is there in the boat with them, yet they panic as their boat fills with water and they believed they were destined to die while Jesus slept. Jesus was awakened by their crying out and spoke out to the wind and the waves to be still. And there was calm. That was how I felt that day. The storm was brewing around me. Chaos reigned. Jesus was with me, but the chaos distracted me from the fact that He was there. As soon as the text came from my obedient friend, my focus returned to where it needed to be; on the Great Physician rather than the obviously troubled young doctor that I was facing.
I was meant to be in that surgery with that doctor for much higher purposes than to just get my margins cleaned up after the lumpectomy.
God is a good God with plans more perfect than we can imagine. Wait for Him. Trust in His ways. Find peace in your storm.
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