When we arrived at the hospital, a physician who worked at the university was the doctor in charge of the emergency room. He was the first person to greet us. Tears of relief filled my eyes when I saw the doctor's university ID. Praise be to God! I did not have a local doctor but was in the hands of a highly skilled physician. Seeing this man from the university comforted and reassured me everything would be ok. The university doctor quickly diagnosed me as having an ovarian cyst.
As soon as he made this diagnosis, he pulled out his mobile phone and called the best surgeon in the region, who just "happened" to specialize in OBGYN. (Oh another incredible miracle!) Furthermore, the doctor just "happened" to be at the university, only a 30 minute drive away, and not at her home, which was over an hour away from the hospital. She quickly was on her way to the hospital.
I was whisked away to have an ultrasound. The ultrasound technician told me how lucky I was. Usually there was a 2 hour wait for the ultrasound machine. But today, at this moment, there was no one who needed to use the machine. (Again, I was overwhelmed with an incredible sense of gratitude that God was moving so many mountains to get me the care I needed.) The technician could see lots of fluid in my abdomen. She could not clearly discern which ovary had a cyst on it, but decided after much examination it was my right ovary.
I was hurried off to the gynecology ward of the hospital, where the surgeon examined me and was sure I had an acute appendicitis. By this time, pain consumed my body, and I was screaming in agony. The surgeon told me she thought it was an appendicitis, but either way (if it was an appendicitis or ovarian cyst), she needed to operate. She told me she would do an exploratory laparotomy and whatever was ailing me, she would fix. (In normal circumstances, I would have been petrified to go into surgery. However, I was in such extreme pain, I was grateful to hear I would soon be asleep from the anesthesia and would be out of my misery.) I gladly signed my release papers to go into surgery.
I was soon prepped for surgery and wheeled into the operating theater. I was overjoyed when I saw the large syringe with the magic white anesthesia liquid that knocks you out for surgery. Everyone kept telling me not to be afraid. I, however, was not afraid but in severe pain. Moreover, my body was consumed with fatigue, and I was fighting hard to stay awake. I knew in a few minutes, I would be out of my misery and finally able to get the sleep my body craved. As the people in the operating theater rushed around me, a doctor who used to attend my university started talking to me. She was asking me about various professors and classes. She was such a comfort when so much chaos was swirling around me. Very soon, it was lights out!
When I woke up in post-op, the room was completely white--white floors, white walls, white ceiling, white sheets draped over a sea of hospital beds. I could see a nurse far across the room clothed in a white dress with white shoes and a white hat. She was sitting behind a white desk. (One could almost imagine with all the white, it was like waking up in heaven!) The first thought that ran through my mind was, "Am I alive?" I then heard the nurse pick up a white phone on her desk and say, "She just woke up." I then immediately look down toward my abdomen. I then said, "Thank God, the pain is gone!" I then went back to sleep.
The next memory I have is of me being wheeled up to the gynecology ward. I kept going in and out of consciousness for the next 12 hours.
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