Suffering Has Been My Teacher

I was hunched over, trying to make it back to my bed after a laborious stroll down the hallway of floor 6. I had tubes coming out my side and from my shoulder. I ached for my husband and our children. My mother-in-law was gracious and took the children to Kansas for a week. I had never been apart from them and the sting of not having their cheeks to kiss and eyes to smile into dwarfed my physical pain. I wanted to hold my family and to cherish all the things I once took for granted.

When I went to the hospital I thought that my operation would be quick and that I would be home shortly. I never imagined all the complications that would result and I never imagined a person could withstand such physical pain while rejecting pain killers.

For one week I never even opened my eyes because I managed the hurt internally and I never saw the people who worked on me. They came to take my blood twice a day and because I was so anemic, my arms were covered with dark bruises from the wrists to the shoulders. I didn't even care how many times they had to prick me; that slight discomfort was nothing compared to the pain in my abdomen.

My first surgery was on a Sunday night, hours after I was brought to the emergency room. The doctor performed an ERCP to suck the gallstones out but he missed one and it went through a duct. I woke up from that surgery overmedicated and I began to vomit; I was doubled over and eventually fell asleep and during that time developed pancretitis.

The next morning I had my gall bladder removed; that is when things became worse. In the process of removing my gall bladder the physician nicked an artery. He didn't even know it had happened and the surgery seemed a success. Through the day I complained of unbearable pain and my abdomen was highly distended. They started tests the next day and found I was losing blood and becoming very weak; I had a blood transfusion and by Wednesday morning I needed emergency surgery. I was sliced the entire length of my abdomen where they caught and corrected my internal bleeding. I had lost 1300cc's of blood or 1/3 of my total blood volume. I woke up from that surgery feeling searing pain, but the pain was different; bearable, despite the sharpness of it. Bleeding internally was far more agonizing; intolerable in fact. I had 45 staples holding my abdomen together and it took me six weeks to recover.

However, the insight I gained was worth it.

I remember feeling joy when my husband, Brian, visited me and although I slept as much as I could, just knowing he stopped in to see me was of great comfort. One time our eyes met and without saying a word we said it all. We held hands but didn't speak. I have carried those moments with me because although my body had been broken and life seemed fragile, the connection between us was strong and vibrant.

And, a week later, Brian sat on my window ledge and watched the people below. He turned to me, smiled, and said; "There is an elderly couple slowly walking up and down the street. They are holding hands; in their other hands they are holding coffee cups." He smiled at them and then looked over and nodded at me; it was a golden moment. I whispered, "That's what I want my life to be."

Five years later I feel it's become that way and I am thankful for all the wisdom I found through affliction because I do believe that people can't appreciate the light without first knowing the dark. I know that trials in life are a given but it's how we react to such times that define who we are; we cannot control events but we can control how we respond to them, and hopefully, learn from them as well...