Thursday, June 28, 2012

The Verdict is In

The verdict is in: my sinus infection is healing up nicely, which means, come Monday morning, I'll be on the operating table.

These tonsils are coming out, baby.

Haaaaaaaallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Haalle.luu.jah!!!!

*bring it up a key*

Haaaaaaaallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Haalle.luu.jah!!!!

*Aaaand one key higher*

Haaaaaaaallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Haalle.luu.jah!!!!

*Glasses break and windows shatter*.

Whew, I just had to get that out.  Who knows if I'll be able to sing like that when my tonsils are gone.

This morning when I heard the doctor tell me my sinuses looked good I was terribly thankful.  In fact, never before have I been so grateful to have someone pry open my nose with a long thin tool, look up my nostrils with little light on their head, and nod reassuringly. Emphasis on the nodding reassuringly.

However, the gratitude quickly dissipated and was replaced with fear and trembling when I was given a waiver to sign, indicating possible infection, excessive bleeding, loss of taste, change in voice, and sudden violent death on the operating table.

Okay, so it didn't list sudden violent death as a possibility, but that's only because the person who drafted the waiver never read Reader's Digest as a child.  If they had then they would have known that horrible, gruesome things can happen to anyone anywhere.

Those Reader's Digests will always, always come back to haunt me.

The reality is, although I'm so thankful for this surgery and the prospect of no longer living with chronic infection, I'm also kind of nervous to go under anesthesia.

I'm not sure how it is that the girl who used to jump off bridges and out of an airplane for kicks is afraid of going under.  But I am.  I guess this is what happens in old age.  I'm much more aware of my frailty, and the fallibility of other human beings—even experts, like surgeons and anesthesiologists.

We are weak and flawed, this is true.  But it's also true that I have a wildly active imagination.  Dreaming up tragically horrifying, far-fetched hypotheticals is one of my special gifts.

So I'm trying to reign in my imagination and dwell instead on good and true things.  Like the fact that my freezer is stuffed with popsicles and smoothie-making ingredients.  And the fact that my mama is coming to be my nurse.  And the fact that, if all goes as planned, I'll be able to join my family for vacation this summer (WHOO HOO!).  And the fact that God will not be asleep at his desk when I'm in surgery Monday morning.

And the fact that a lot of you have been praying for me these last two years as I've worked my way back to health.  Thank you for that.  I wish I had words adequate to express how thankful I am for all of you.

Well, I feel better already.  It's looking to be a good summer, folks.  And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to eat a heaping plate of roast beef before next week's liquid diet.

© by scj


  1. Woohoo! I'm so glad that you get to have the surgery on Monday! Do you have a time yet? I'd love the privilege of praying for you during that time.


  2. Old age? Did you say old age? A-hem...
    Give it up, cupcake. You're a spring chicken and you know it.
    Look at it this way- you either come out of surgery, or you don't. Either way, you're healed.
    I had my tonsils out when I was 5. No problemo. And no ear infections since then.
    Time to cowboy up and get those puppies out of there!
    And I'll be praying for you.

  3. Sharalyn,

    My surgery is Monday morning. I meet with the anesthesiologist at 8:30 A.M. Thank you for praying!


  4. Snapdragon,

    Ha! Is it fair to say that the older I get the more relative 'old age' seems to be?!

    This is a fine way of looking at things. *gulp* Cowboying up right now...;)

    Thank you for praying!


  5. As long as you don't call yourself an Old Maid Spinster Schoolteacher cuz that's MY title!

    Might want to stock up on popsicles, fruit pops, and/or ice cream before the surgery. Swallowing is tough for a few days after and cold things rule.

  6. I'm still just plan ol' Prof. Jackson. Who knows what I am behind my back though. ;)

    Freezer is full, and I am good to go! Let the week of popsicles begin!