Life brings sunshine and rain. Both are needed to produce flowers.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

ARE YOU AVERAGE?

I just learned from a very reliable source that “Americans will have an average of nine operations during their lifetime”.  The source is this month’s AARP magazine which is now one of my favorite reads.  (Aug/Sept '2014, page 18)  It got me to thinking about my 62 years on this earth, and my ten surgeries. 

Before the age of 50 I experienced three surgeries.  Two were minor, if there is such a thing as a “minor” operation; a tonsillectomy and a tubal ligation.  The third was traumatizing, scary, and came with a year of recovery.  My spine required fusion from T1 to L3 and a titanium rod was placed permanently into my back.  That surgery would also mark the beginning of the end of my fifteen year marriage.  “In sickness and in health” turned out to only be in health.  There was an ugly separation, a divorce, and a new life in college where I met my forever husband.  He taught geology classes, and I fell in love with this gentle, compassionate man.


  

My 50th year was a rough one.  I was flown to OHSU for emergency open-heart surgery and a total pericardectomy.  The sternum is sawed in half, then a heart/lung machine is attached, and the heart is taken out in order for the covering of the heart (pericardium) to be completely removed.  The recovery period was a year.  This surgery came after a couple of years of being sick with a mysterious illness which ended up being diagnosed as Sjogrens Auto-Immune Disorder.  From that point on I needed one operation after another; gallbladder, appendix, open-lung biopsy, thyroid, two cataract surgeries, and finally at age 56 oral surgery to have all my teeth removed.  Three days later I accidentally overdosed on Valium.  Twice during those six years I almost died.  Yet my second husband loyally cared for me and nursed me back to health through seven operations, and life threatening illness.


  

My medical story has an amazing ending.  I hit Americans average of nine operations and topped it by one, but then the unexpected happened.  God told me during my overdose that I would be healed, and I was.  One year later I no longer suffered from Sjogrens, or Lymphasytic Interstitial Pneumonia, or Valium addiction.  I’ve enjoyed almost six years of good health.  I give God the glory, not just for healing me, but for bringing a man into my life who would hang in there through sickness as well as  health.

I see a blog in my future about how to prepare and get through surgery in ten easy steps!