...do not be afraid, for I am with you; stop being anxious and watchful, for I am your God. I give you strength. I bring you help. I uphold you with my victorious right hand." -Isaiah 41:10
“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
I felt really confident and comfortable with the surgical oncologist at Ochsner Hospital. He was very nice and his hair reminded me of Einstein. Yes, very superficial, but he was confident and seemed to be caring. So, I decided to have my operation to remove the mass on my lower small intestine at Ochsner's Main Campus on Jefferson Hwy. He told me in his opinion that it was most likely Lymphoma and he wanted to get it out as soon as possible. His intern was with us after my soon to be surgeon left for his next appointment. The intern said that the doctor's schedule nurse would be in soon to schedule, but he was thinking it would be after the new year. However, to everyone's surprise, yes I had an entourage, my surgery would be a few days before Christmas. Wow, this must be serious was my first thought. It was also comforting that just maybe someone else had a hand in clearing schedules. Wink- wink. Jesus, I trust in You which was the recurring prayer on my mind daily at this point. So it was determined that the Advent season of 2018 would be capped with my first major surgery and the beginning of my cancer journey.
The procedure was the just before Christmas. So, my birthday for Jesus was my total trust in Him during this surgery. I requested the Anointing of the Sick from our Parochial Vicar at St. Pius X. This was my first time receiving this sacrament. After I went to Adoration for time with Jesus which was the time I wrote my letters to my loved ones. After just getting back from NOLA, I got packed, got the Anointing of the Sick, and an hour of Adoration in before my quick return to my childhood home, New Orleans. A place often said by many a great place to visit but would not want to live there, but for the people that were born and live there it is different. It is our home, and even if you leave NOLA, she will always whisper to you to come home. So, I was ready spiritually and maybe even physically. I was able to give totally my prideful perceived control to My Lord whom is the Author of Life.
The procedure was done and I was grateful to God for His many blessings. This was the beginning of others helping to lift some of the burden of my current cross. The surgical team was first to help. They were wonderful in the holding the cross for some time when I was under sedation. However, in the recovery room, the reality of the full weight of my cross was returned for me to carry. The reality of the road of recovery was there for me to begin. I was not alone on this road, and many were walking with me. First, I felt that my Lord, who was always with me, was closer than ever before. Secondly, my family and friends, my caregivers, were there for me during my recovery in the hospital. Thirdly, the nurses on the gastrointestinal floor which was the location of my room for recovery aided as well. I encountered the most amazing nurses in my recovery. They instructed me in the process of fasting to move into gradually moving into in-taking food. Also in my breathing exercises. It was very humbling to have other people helping me in doing things that were second nature before and having others view me in this weakness and to understand the true meaning of charity. I needed help, even moving to the restroom was painful, physically and mentally, by giving up that modesty, which was so uncomfortable I was told that my breathing exercises were very important and that my first bowel movement was crucial to my hospital release. Flashbacks of "potty training" when I was able to inform my nurse that it happened. I was able to be released the morning of Christmas Eve.
The long ride over the Pontchartrain Causeway was a good reflection to what I just went trough. I was able to meet the priest that visits the hospital, and speak to spiritual companions as well, I was informed of all the prayers from family and the St. Pius X church men and women of some I knew and others I had not. This quiet time to reflect with only the rhythmic sound of the tires on the bridge was necessary to prepare me for my new home away from home. This home was my sister and brother-in-law's new home which was only recently moved in. For this was my new reality. I will be living here for my recovery. How long I would be here was not known at the time, but only time and the results of the biopsy would tell.
The procedure was the just before Christmas. So, my birthday for Jesus was my total trust in Him during this surgery. I requested the Anointing of the Sick from our Parochial Vicar at St. Pius X. This was my first time receiving this sacrament. After I went to Adoration for time with Jesus which was the time I wrote my letters to my loved ones. After just getting back from NOLA, I got packed, got the Anointing of the Sick, and an hour of Adoration in before my quick return to my childhood home, New Orleans. A place often said by many a great place to visit but would not want to live there, but for the people that were born and live there it is different. It is our home, and even if you leave NOLA, she will always whisper to you to come home. So, I was ready spiritually and maybe even physically. I was able to give totally my prideful perceived control to My Lord whom is the Author of Life.
The procedure was done and I was grateful to God for His many blessings. This was the beginning of others helping to lift some of the burden of my current cross. The surgical team was first to help. They were wonderful in the holding the cross for some time when I was under sedation. However, in the recovery room, the reality of the full weight of my cross was returned for me to carry. The reality of the road of recovery was there for me to begin. I was not alone on this road, and many were walking with me. First, I felt that my Lord, who was always with me, was closer than ever before. Secondly, my family and friends, my caregivers, were there for me during my recovery in the hospital. Thirdly, the nurses on the gastrointestinal floor which was the location of my room for recovery aided as well. I encountered the most amazing nurses in my recovery. They instructed me in the process of fasting to move into gradually moving into in-taking food. Also in my breathing exercises. It was very humbling to have other people helping me in doing things that were second nature before and having others view me in this weakness and to understand the true meaning of charity. I needed help, even moving to the restroom was painful, physically and mentally, by giving up that modesty, which was so uncomfortable I was told that my breathing exercises were very important and that my first bowel movement was crucial to my hospital release. Flashbacks of "potty training" when I was able to inform my nurse that it happened. I was able to be released the morning of Christmas Eve.
The long ride over the Pontchartrain Causeway was a good reflection to what I just went trough. I was able to meet the priest that visits the hospital, and speak to spiritual companions as well, I was informed of all the prayers from family and the St. Pius X church men and women of some I knew and others I had not. This quiet time to reflect with only the rhythmic sound of the tires on the bridge was necessary to prepare me for my new home away from home. This home was my sister and brother-in-law's new home which was only recently moved in. For this was my new reality. I will be living here for my recovery. How long I would be here was not known at the time, but only time and the results of the biopsy would tell.
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