In the morning, my first visitor was the doctor I saw at the clinic. He was so very kind and had a deep sorrow in his eyes. He talked to me only a few minutes. He told me that I had a ruptured ovarian cyst on my left side which leaked 700 mL (24 ounces) of fluid into my abdominal cavity. The cyst had compressed and occluded my intestines, which caused my vomiting and had compressed everything on the right side of my body, which caused the severe right-sided pain. (I was relieved to hear it was indeed my left ovary which had ruptured as that is the side of my abdomen which had been ailing me for about the last 3 months.) He kept asking if there was anything he could do for me. Despite having a raging fever and desperately wanting ice to cool off my hot flesh, I insisted I was fine and thanked him for his visit.
A little while later, the doctor who accompanied me in the ambulance to the hospital visited me. He had a worried look on his face. The first words out of his mouth were, "Thank God you are still here!" I was a bit amused by his remark. I thought to myself, "Oh course I am still here! I just had major surgery last night! I am cut from hip bone to hip bone. I sure hope they would not have discharged me home while I was still under anesthesia!" Instead of blurting out these rude remarks, I remained silent. The doctor talked to me for just a brief time and then left.
I spent only that day and the next recovering. On the third day, I was begging to be discharged. I had a flight I needed to catch the following morning. It was the week before Christmas. I knew if I was not on that flight, I would not be able to get another flight for a week. Furthermore, most of my university friends would be on that flight. I knew they could help me travel. If I had to wait and catch a later flight, I would be traveling alone. So, in my desperation, I began lying to my doctor. "Oh no, doctor, I am in very little pain. I feel great." (Liar, liar! I was in lots of pain and was extremely dizzy whenever I stood up...but hey, I had a flight to catch!) I remember praying all morning (starting at 4 a.m.) for God to allow me to go back to my dorm to pack up my things and catch my flight the next day. Thankfully, God answered my prayer in a favorable way. Since it was a Sunday, the surgeon was not slated to come in to the hospital. I was able to convince the resident doctor to call the surgeon and ask for my discharge. Praise be to God, the surgeon consented to my release.
My journey home was nothing short of many miracles. When I arrived back at my campus dorm, my roommate packed up all my things. I felt bad that I was not able to help, but I was in so much pain. I could do little more than lie on my bed, and quickly I fell asleep. The next day, a number of my friends helped me through airport security and on to the flight. They also helped me get off the plane. Then we parted ways. I had two more planes to catch. God was incredibly gracious and provided help every step of the way. Eighteen hours after I left my university dorm room, I arrived home! Praise be to God!
Nine months after surgery, as I was walking to one of my classes on campus, I saw the doctor who accompanied me in the ambulance to the hospital. He stopped and started talking to me. He told me how concerned he was for me that day so long ago. He said no one was sure if I was going to make it through surgery. I was very sick. I was in septic shock--my kidneys and intestines had shut down, and my health was quickly deteriorating. He told me he had stayed at the hospital through my surgery. He only went home when the hospital medical staff said I was out of surgery and should make it through the night. Immediately, his words from nine months ago rang in my ears, "Thank God you are still here!" I suddenly realized the doctor did not mean he was grateful I was still at the hospital. Instead, he was grateful I was still alive.
Instantly, I felt very weak and overwhelmed with thanks to God. I knew I was sick, but I had no idea I was that sick. Despite my hard-headedness in not seeking medical treatment sooner, God had moved mountain after mountain to clear the way for me to keep on keeping on...and that knowledge has been a tremendous blessing in my life!
"Surely my soul remembers and is bowed down within me. This I recall to mind, therefore I have hope. The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." (Lamentations 3:20-23)
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