Thank you for all your support this week, through all the ups and downs. Especially the downs.
I recently lamented that I don’t see the everyday miracles like I used to.
For many years, I looked for a religious trip to Medjugorje. Medjugorje is a city in Bosnia where, in 1981, the Virgin Mary initially appeared to six children, and continues to appear to some of them today. Healing miracles have happened there as a result.
A few years ago, a friend strongly suggested that I go, but I didn’t. Then, through a series of happenings at my parish church, that friend and I were able to attend a talk by the one of the children (who is now an adult) and to hear the story of a local man (Artie Boyle) who was famously healed after his trip there.
I was newly inspired to go. I knew that I couldn’t do this on my own, and my casual search for a tour turned up nothing until about 2 weeks ago: Caroline Myss was organizing a trip. BUT it meant that I would miss the first week of school for the kids. One of boys would be getting settled in a new school and I felt that it wasn’t fair to him if he needed my support. The deadline passed, and I didn’t book the trip.
I continued to mull over my decision. Did I miss an opportunity? I felt physically and emotionally stronger than I had in a long time, and wondered if this was my good chance to travel there.
I didn’t wonder for too long though, as the events this past week overtook my life. Still, it remained in the back of my mind.
On Thursday, the day before my procedure, I needed something to distract myself. So, I opened the stack of mail gathering on my desk. Inside one of the envelopes was a Miraculous Medal! It felt like Mary was saying, you can’t come to me, but I can come to you. I am here.
I carried that medal with me, obsessively repeating the prayer for it, until the nurse made me hand it over before surgery.
Okay – the surgical procedure. I have been so afraid to go to Brigham and Women’s hospital. My image was that you do things their way, that they have the knowledge and experience, and that I need to just let go and trust. I know myself well enough that I would get frustrated in that setting.
I was so wrong. I wanted them to use my power port, not a vein, for the anesthesia. They did discuss it with me at length, but in the end, I got to use it! There are a few drugs that I HATE and they found substitutes for those. Everyone had a good attitude and was quite pleasant. I cannot say enough good things about my experience there.
As for the procedure itself…The doctor was able to place the stent in one ureter. The other one seemed to be blocked. So, next up for me is a bigger surgery, where they make a hole through my back, into my kidney, and try to wind the stent through that way. I will have to stay overnight in the hospital for that one. (Blecch, but maybe I will again be pleasantly surprised.)
I was able to go home after I woke from the anesthesia, but I only remember waking up in my own bed. That was a little disorienting, but not as much as this: I started having hallucinations. I was having full conversations with people only I could see and hear. At 3:00 a.m, I thought a friend of mine was calling and I had a loud conversation with her over the phone. (My poor husband, awake all night with this) I kept trying to hang up and she had “just one more story.” Still hallucinating, I had another loud conversation with my oncologist. I woke up in a panic that I slept through my surgical slot; I started yelling hysterically, and I couldn’t understand my husband as he tried to explain that the procedure already happened. I woke another time in a panic saying that the kids were late for school. (They haven’t yet started school.)
My husband kept asking me questions like, “What is your name? Do you know where you are?” Sometimes I answered correctly. It all sounds funny now, but at the time, it really scared the kids. The household was a bit crazy.
I couldn’t stand or walk without help, and each time I tried to sit anywhere, I misjudged the distance and my husband caught me.
Finally, around noon today, I felt well enough to get up and take a shower. Yay!
- I have chemo on Thursday next week, primarily because Tuesday is fully booked in the infusion center.
- I will have the stent surgery sometime after that, probably the following week. They will call me to schedule it. I am trying not to think too much about that, but it keeps screaming out for my attention.
That’s about as far into the future that I can look!
Again, thank you for all your support, your prayers, love and caring.
Love and Blessings,