368. Yeah!
I recently had a return of breast cancer after ten years of remission. I scheduled surgery and had an interesting happening as I headed through the days before the actual surgery date.
During my first bout of cancer, I had determined to do a number of alternative things in addition to the medical model and one of them was to have a positive outlook. I felt that way the second time too.
But the reality was that I also recognized that things happen in surgery. Something can happen with the anesthesia. I probably don’t even know all the possibilities of things that can happen, but there just was a general recognition on my part that things happen and occasionally someone who goes in for surgery, dies there.
I didn’t obsess about this. I didn’t spent vast amounts of time on it. I just recognized within myself that it could in fact happen. I decided that if it did happen, well I have a strong faith and believe that it’s not so much a death as it is a transition and I could do that.
As the surgery date grew closer I also recognized the things that I had hoped to get caught up and didn’t, and if I died, what a mess that would be for my children. Oh well…what didn’t get done didn’t get done.
And then the date came. Since we had to be at the hospital at 7am, and were about an hour or so away, we booked a hotel that was seven minutes a way and two of my daughters and I spent the evening at the hotel. The morning of surgery dawned. And things began to click—you’re checked in, you had one procedure done, you get ready for the surgery itself, they call your daughters back in the room where you are waiting, there is a delay and you chit-chat for 45 minutes.
I told them, “As I leave on this stretcher I’m going to say ‘8—16—2.’” They said, “What does that mean?” And I said, “That’s my family—remember I love them—four children and their partners is the eight; sixteen grandchildren is the sixteen; and my former husband and his wife are the two.” They laughed.
The nurse came and said, “We’re ready.” I smiled at those daughters and said, “8—16—2.” They said, “O.K.” and off we went. I woke up in recovery and felt good. So good that as we left the recovery area, one daughter said, “Do you want to go home, or do you want to get some lunch” I said, “Let’s go to lunch.” And off we went.
I slept well that night and as I woke up the next morning and the sun came beaming through the window, I thought—YES! I may be ready to die, but this isn’t the time. I’ve got a new day!
Yeah!
