The God moments

This is a story that I want to remember from the day I had my surgery for the colon cancer. 

I woke up after the surgery in the recovery room and  I felt pretty good actually. I could not see much that was going on in the room, but I could hear the nurse talking to the woman in the bed next to me. The woman was complaining about wanting to get up to her room and the nurse was telling her that her blood pressure was not stabilized so they had to keep her there. 

The nurse came over to me and said that I was on auto pilot. I didn't really know what she meant, but I thought it was a good sign. She said she would be getting my family. And then my husband and my older son appeared at the end of the bed. I was so happy to see them. I took my arm from under the covers and put it up in the air and said to them, "I made it!" I was never so happy to see them as I was in that moment. I knew I had a long way to go to recover, but just seeing them gave me so much strength to carry on. 

The nurse told me that I was ready to leave recovery, but there was not a room available upstairs and I would have to wait a while so they would be bringing me to a holding room. I clearly remember my son and husband stepping out of the way as the nurses rolled my bed down the hall into a dark quiet room. My family followed me in. I was talking to my husband and asking him who he had called and we made chit chat, turned on the TV and waited in the dark small room for them to come and get me. 

Later in the afternoon, we all went up to the Pavilion and I got settled in my private room. All during my stay at the hospital I often thought about seeing my husband and son in the recovery room as it was an image that was comforting to me and made me smile. 

About one week later after I was back at home I asked my husband what it was like in the recovery room. How many people were in there as I could not see?  He told me it was just me. I said," no there was that lady next to me and then there was a wall, were there people on the other side?" He said, "No, You were the only one in the room." 

What the heck was he talking about? "Wait a minute," I said. "I know there was at least the one lady who was complaining and who was on the other side of me?" He stuck to his story. He kept telling me I was the only patient in the room. I did not understand!  So I said, well we were in two rooms. The recovery room with the bright lights and then the small dark holding room.  I am talking about about the recovery room. He said that they never were in the recovery room, he thought I was talking about the holding room! He said the small dark room with the TV was the first time they saw me!

I was FLABBERGASTED! So then I explained to him how I saw them in the recovery room standing at the end of my bed as clear as day it was were I greeted them. He swore they were not in there.  I knew he wasn't lying, but I still had to call my son first thing in the morning and ask him. 

No, they were not physically in the recovery room with me, but I saw them  there and spoke to them as clear as day and that is my story and I am sticking to it! 

Holy Water 

After I found out that the colon cancer spread I started to visualize myself diving into a pool of holy water. I went right to my Catholic upbringing for some comfort thinking that I needed more than a cross of holy water on my forehead to heal a second cancer. Off and on during the day, I would think about diving in and becoming healed. 

A couple of weeks later I went to my father's birthday mass the week after Easter. At one point the priest was walking down the aisle throwing Holy Water. Although I was on the far end, some of the water got me on my forehead. I thought, "Gee what were the chances of that happening when I was so far away/" Then I realized a lay minister was walking on my side now with the Holy Water and she got my back all wet. I felt that water hit me and immediately remembered how I had been visualizing diving into the Holy Water. I knew this was a close as I would get to diving in. I loved every second of that feeling.