---- My two youngest surprised me, storming my hospital room as I was eating
my breakfast.
---- "Hi, Dad!" They both chimed excitedly. The day of my hospital release was
here, and I was anxiously awaiting my doctor's arrival.
---- "Where's your mom?" I asked.
---- "She dropped us off and went on to her doctor's appointment!" Nathan, our
11 year-old exclaimed. Marcella had broken her wrist nearly a month
earlier which required surgery and pins - a miserable and expensive
summer for both of us even with good insurance.
---- "Look what I got from camp!" Nathan said as he shoved a bunch of papers
from his academic camp on my tray.
---- "These are what all the kids sent from Sunday School!" Drema said in 9
year-old excitement as she began showing me all the Sunday-School
-made, get-well cards. I felt warm as I looked over the cards and prayed a
silent Thank You. And I had worried!
---- My thoughts went back to the week before - no two months before.
---- Just before Special Olympics in May, my back became excruciatingly angry.
I couldn't turn my neck to the left; I couldn't use my left arm; I couldn't
stand up or sit down. I couldn't even lie down in bed without pain.
---- At first I prayed it would go away but my prayers went unanswered.
Finally Marcella made a doctor's appointment, which followed a regimen of
ultra-sound treatments, heat pads, pain pills and steroids. It had worked
last year, but this year the pain wouldn't go away. The thought of surgery
scared me.
---- Futilely after 2 months of effort, the doctor referred me to a surgeon
specializing in the neck, back and brain who ordered a series of x-rays. X
-ray technology, which has been around since the nineteenth century,
didn't worry me.
---- "Can't tell a lot," the doctor said as he examined the x-rays over his
rimless glasses. "I want to schedule you for an MRI Monday, and then later
in the week a myleogram and some more tests and x-rays including
electromyography." I flinched. I had no idea what those tests were, but
what choice did I have.
---- MRI stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging, and the machine, a two
million dollar invention, is breathtakingly elaborate. The technicians made
me lie on my back and thrust me into a torpedo-like tube with a huge,
round tumor-like growth extending nearly to the ceiling above me. Ear
plugs in my ears, I soon heard loud, mechanical sounds which penetrated
my very being. Somehow each organ and tissue resonated back radio-waves
which were collected by computers in an adjacent room and then were
transformed into wonderfully accurate images of my body tissues.
---- "Right here, between your 6th, 7th and 8th vertebrae appear to be
osteoarthritic, bone-spurring which has inflamed the area around it and is
pushing against your spinal cord," the doctor pointed to the pictures as
Marcella and I stared in amazement. The MRI's black and white pictures
seemed to show every detail.
---- "What can I do?" I asked.
---- "Well..., you've tried everything else, which hasn't worked. We can try
surgery." My stomach turned over with fear, even though I knew what was
coming. "I want to run some more tests, though, to determine exactly
which nerve is involved before we consider it," the doctor said.
---- I was again in the surgicare unit that Thursday having a CAT scan
(Computerized Axial Tomography) done and a myleogram done, in which
they replaced part of my spinal fluid with dye and took pictures of my
nerves. After that, more x-rays.
---- "We need to relieve the pain," the doctor explained. "I have some time
tomorrow at 3, or you can schedule it anytime you want." It did not take
much bravery to opt for a quick surgery.
---- Early in the morning on the day of the surgery, I was wheeled into another
office for one more round of tests called, electromyography.
---- "From listening to you, I think you believe in God," the doctor said while
she was conducting the complex nerve and muscle tests with a small
needle-like probe and an oscilloscopic monitor, as I relayed my fears. The
electromyographic procedure is relatively new and was being conducted by
a brilliant lady who not only had her MD but also her PHD. I was impressed.
By manipulating the little probes along my hand, arm and shoulder, she
was able to pinpoint exactly which nerves and muscles were aggravated
along my spinal cord.
---- It's natural to be fearful. After all they ARE operating on your body. Just
pray about it. I believe in God, and I can tell you do too," she concluded. I
felt better as I was wheeled out of her office on the wheelchair.
---- As I lay in my hospital room with Marcella holding my hand, I became
scared and couldn't hold back my tears; she squeezed tighter. The
operation consisted of making an incision in my neck and, then, with a
microscopic buzz saw, taking away some osteoarthritic bone spurs on my
back, which had accumulated over my 44 years, and do whatever else was
needed to relieve the pain. The operation would take about 2 hours and, no
matter what anyone said to me, seemed scary.
---- I kissed my wife as part of the medical team wheeled me into the pre
-operating area. My fears again were beginning to overwhelm me.
---- I smiled at an elderly lady who lay in a bed beside my and asked her what
she was in for.
---- "My arm. I've had four other operations besides this one. Thought it was
about time to have another." With that the lady was wheeled out of the
waiting area into the ominous double doors that waited there.
---- Soon the nurses began to prepare me for the surgery; they were having
trouble finding a vein in which to insert an IV. The surgeon came in.
---- "Looks like I'm going to have to start this thing myself," he smiled calmly.
I felt better as I watched him.
---- Why should I worry about this operation? My surgeon had skillfully
performed hundreds of these in the past. His educational and experiencial
credentials were impeccable. And besides, hadn't I had the most modern
technology available to diagnose my condition? I thought. Who was to
suggest less in the operating room? The thoughts soothed my fears.
---- As they moved me through the double doors into an operating room,
without warning I experienced more fear. What happens to my 4 kids if I
don't pull through this surgery? What about Marcella? Can she make it
alone? ...? I regained composure and prayed again silently. "Dear God, let
me see my kids grown, but if I don't, help them grow up strong in the Lord."
Suddenly my fears vanished, and I opened my eyes to a masked crew ready
for surgery.
---- "You are getting sleepy," I heard my anesthesiologist say.
---- Overcoming fear in hospital situations can be just as hard for Christians
as non-Christians. I asked a man in our Sunday School class if he became
scared going into his second surgery within a year. His reply was a
resounding "Sure, everyone does." We can make hospital stays, though, less
traumatic if we follow some simple suggestions.
---- 1) Approach the hospitalization as a Christian
Virtually all of the professionals with whom I dealt readily admitted
their Christian preferrences, when I shared my convictions, and countered
my doubts with their faith. Even in recovery, one of the nurses came back,
off-duty, and brought her Christian husband who, to my surprise, was a
friend from our local evangelizing association. Later, as I lay watching
and listening to Gospel music, a worker took time out to watch with me.
"Sure, I love Gospel Music," was her beaming confession, as she witnessed
to me.
---- 2) Approach the hospitalization with honesty
Not only did I become actively involved in my evaluations by asking
questions and getting answers, I also gained confidence in those who were
involved in the actual procedures by relating my fears and allowing the
professional to minister to me. Even the surgery patient waiting next to
me quickly helped calm my anxieties by reassuring me that she had had
similar surgeries and faired well.
---- 3) Approach the hospitalization with confidence
As a Christian, I knew with confidence what the future held for me and
that with God's help, I could overcome all. Just as Paul prayed for healing
without success, (II Cor. 12: 7,8), he weathered his physical conditions as
mere inconveniences on his journey with the Lord. Afterall, surgical
procedures often have more to do with our heredity, statistical unknowns,
or situational accidents rather than sin or lack of faith. Ignore those who
suggest otherwise.
---- "Who are these?" the surgeon brought me out of my thoughts as he entered
my room and watched my two kids mess with the remote control which
was hooked by a cord to the television. The doctor was dressed in a suit
having just come from church, and I had been waiting for his arrival to
give me my final departure orders.
---- "What's your name?"
---- "Drema."
---- What's your name?"
---- "Nathan."
---- "Glad to meet you Drema and Nathan," the doctor said lovingly as he
introduced himself.
---- After telling me what I could do and couldn't do for the next two weeks,
the doctor made his exit, then unexpectedly stuck his head back in the
door.
---- "God bless you!" he smiled and then was off to his next patient.
---- Sidebar 1
---- The odds that someone close to us will undergo surgery or will spend some
time in the hospital each year probably approaches 100%. Therefore, as
Christians we better be ready to minister them.
---- 1) During 1989, an estimated 31 million inpatients, excluding newborn
infants, were discharged from short-stay non-Federal hospitals in the
United States.
---- 2) The discharge rate was 126 discharges per 1,000 civilian population
and the average length of stay was 6.5 days.
---- 3) Because of childbirth, over 6 million more women were discharged in
1989 than men. (12.6 males versus 18.4 females)
---- 4) Two-thirds of the discharged patients underwent surgery.
---- 5) The estimated figures for hospital procedures in 1989 are as follows:
Diagnostic and therapeutic (11.5 million), obstetrical (6.4 million),
digestive (5.4 million), cardiovascular (3.7 million) and musculoskeletal
(3.2 million).
---- 6) Nearly 300 thousand similar operations as mine were done in 1989.
---- 7) The most common diagnostic categories for all patients were
deliveries and heart disease.
}