Tomorrow marks the start of a new season: summer. While I’m not really a fan of the Southern heat and humidity getting ready to slam our tiny town, I am a fan of “new” and starting a new chapter even if its a new chapter of life with chronic illness.
What is that saying about the best laid plans?
As noted in my previous post, I had all sorts of ideas and plans laid out for jumpstarting A New Kind of Normal back to its glory days and I was so, so, SO excited. I felt exhilarated and had a surge of confidence that was hard to contain.
Then my world got turned upside down.
My dad got the news that he needed a triple bypass cardiac surgery. It was a long, long surgery that turned into a quadruple bypass and also revealed damage from a previous heart attack. We have no idea when this heart attack took place.
I have never been so scared in my life. Sitting in that waiting room was torture. Initially I felt like no news was good news as in the surgeons were still working but after the six hour mark, any news would have been a relief. They let us know in advance that the surgeons wouldn’t be out to update us during the surgery which I could understand – please stay focused on my daddy – but a brief call would have been nice.
As I sat in that God-awful uncomfortable chair for eight or nine hours, I had a moment of clarity that reminded me that while I was not used to be a family member waiting in a surgical waiting room, my family was. Seven different times my family occupied similar uncomfortable chairs in similar waiting rooms. Granted it would be easy for me to say that I never had a surgery as dangerous and with so many unknowns but that wouldn’t necessarily be true.
Just over five years ago, I was rushed into an emergency surgery on a Sunday afternoon. My husband had been out of town with the youth group when I was admitted to the hospital. My parents made the five hour trip down with little to no information. We knew things were bad but we didn’t know just how bad until my doctor received the results of all of my tests that Sunday morning. He came into my room and said that I would be in surgery within the hour.
My next memory was four days later. The nurse was changing my bandaging and revealed my almost foot long incision adorned with forty staples. I just remember bawling asking what had happened to me.
Five years ago, I was in the midst of that hellish recovery that landed me in the hospital two more times before finally being able to go back to work. I have never felt like I fully recovered from that surgery but I continue to be thankful that I am able to wake up every day and put one foot in front of the other. I know my dad feels the exact same way.
It stinks that sometimes it takes something scaring the hell out of you to wake you up and remind you of just how lucky you are. So many things in life could have easily gone another direction. I may not have had the easiest road the last five years but to quote Rascal Flatts, “God has blessed this broken road.”
I have so, so, so many things to be thankful for and so, so, so many things to look forward to and be so, so, so excited about. God has so many awesome things in store for my life and for my family. I am taking this new season as a reminder of all the things that are to come.
God is good.