When I went to the doctor a week ago to follow-up on blood work I’d had a week earlier, how could I possibly know that a few hours later I’d be in a hospital bed getting prepped for surgery? It’s as my good friend once said: “You just never know what’s going to happen.” She looked into my eyes and made that statement ever-so-seriously just a few days before she died.
She’d been taken by surprise, too, when she visited a doctor hoping to find a reason for not feeling well—something that could be fixed—but unfortunately, there was no “fix” for her and she was taken from her loving family much too soon.
I’m grateful that, this time at least, mine was not nearly that serious. But, when you don’t tolerate sickness well – because it’s an inconvenience – anything that takes you away from the way you like to live your life is serious to you.
And so… as I’ve been recovering from my appendectomy this past week, many things have gone through my mind. It was a virtual pity party: Woe is me. I’ll never get through it! Who’ll take care of me? Cook my meals? Do the grocery shopping? Keep the house clean? Do the laundry? How long will it take to get well? I hate being down like this! Whine, whine, whine!
I couldn’t pray. I felt like God wasn’t listening. Sad state. But I knew others were praying for me, and hoped He was hearing their prayers.
Sickness, surgery in particular, not only weakens your body, but also your ability to think straight, I believe. I was convinced that no one cared about me. My husband and children didn’t care. I was miserable and they seemed utterly indifferent. People who’d always called themselves my friends didn’t care either. I felt totally alone! It was a terrible feeling.
But, of course, it was all in my mind as I lay in an unfamiliar weakened state. Everyone, especially Mr. H., has been wonderful! I was well fed and catered to in every possible way and I’m getting stronger every day. I’ll be as good as new in a few days.
But I’ve had a lot of time to think and one question keeps repeating in my mind.
When one is dying, does he/she feel removed from God as I did?