Just like that — Mark was wheeled away. Watching family members disappear through those double doors is one of my least favorite activities, especially when I am left alone. Making a quick list of the times I have done this during my (almost) twenty-nine years of marriage — I came up with twenty-six surgeries (major surgery to minor procedure). This doesn’t count the many colonoscopies and MRIs (they walk to the MRI so they wouldn’t count anyway). Of the twenty-six, twenty-one are related to cancer. (I have four other cancer-related surgeries on the list, but I was not present to watch them wheel away.)
Make it twenty-seven, I just remembered one more (non-cancer).
Isn’t it funny on movies when a family member is anxiously watching the procedure through a window? This is definitely not real life. Having worked as a surgical nurse I thought I didn’t like knowing what was going on… but I actually think this is helpful. What I don’t like is the helplessness of not being beside them, While they are undergoing such trauma I am left outside. Obviously they are in good hands, I would be of absolutely no help and would only be in the way. Nevertheless I believe this is the source of my nausea as the bed is wheeled away.
On the other hand, my husband and children who are accustomed to being the patient on that bed always look forward to having a nice deep sleep. Colonoscopies are their favorite because they wake up without pain. We have an unusual sense of what is favorable in life.
As I’ve been typing I received a text from a child whose boss came to work today with a tale of having a needle prick at the dermatologist. It was traumatic. It’s a good thing I didn’t even attempt to count the dermatology procedures my little family has undergone. I hope I have successfully trained the children to respect the experiences of others. To some, a needle prick is an ordeal. If I ran, coughing and sputtering, around a track, I would appreciate the thoughtful ear of a marathon runner listening to my ordeal. Perhaps they could kindly encourage me and give me advice. God bless everyone who is going through any ordeal today, including needle pricks.
Mark has been in surgery for one hour. I should see him in another three. We are at the Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City. This is such a beautiful facility. There is live organ music being played in the downstairs lobby which is open to the third floor waiting area. He just played Be Still My Soul.
Enough said. Be still my soul, the Lord is on my side.