Lucky number 14

Lucky # 14 !!!

Hospitals are a busy place.

The bright lights, the smell of rubbing alcohol, and the bustle of white lab coats all pointed to one thing.  Usually they signaled unwelcome reminders of painful medical procedures and long hospital stays, but today was different.  Today they were signs of God's healing power.  God had blessed Christopher with an instant healing miracle of his GI tract, and now He was going to work through skilled surgical hands to put an end to the old life with chronic illness once and for all.

Despite the rush that was going on behind the "curtain walls"of the pre-op ward, we sat quietly anxious for this all to be over.  We were on the final leg of the journey.  Today was it.  Today the holes where the feeding tubes once lived would be closed.  A new life with a new reality was about to begin.  The past may have been feeding tubes, but the future was real food.

IV delivers hydration.

Christopher's nurse appeared from behind the curtain wall negotiating a load of IV supplies.  This was the part that usually sparked great fear in Christopher.  Because of all the medical intervention, many of Christopher's veins were left scarred and useless.  He was usually a "very difficult stick," but today was different.  God had not only blessed Christopher's GI tract with a miracle, but He had blessed his tired and overused veins with a miracle healing as well.  When the nurse pierced Christopher's arm with the needle, the IV went in smoothly and without a hitch.  As the nurse released the fluid, the hydrating liquid began to drip effortlessly into Christopher's body without obstruction.  With an audible sigh of relief and a look of thankfulness on his face, Christopher relaxed back onto the gurney.  He was one step closer.  It wouldn't be long before he would see himself for the first time in his life with a healed and healthy abdomen.

Nurses take the "vitals" before surgery.

The nurse continued to prepare Christopher for the surgery.  The blood pressure cuff hugged Christopher's arm revealing an appropriate blood pressure reading.  The nurse's fingers on Christopher's wrist told her that his pulse was steady, and the thermometer showed her that his temperature was normal.  A few pillow fluffs and several warm blankets later, she disappeared again out into the busy pace of the pre-op ward.

Moments later a man in scrubs appeared, and he began to explain his plan for the anesthesia to keep Christopher comfortable and asleep during the surgery.  As he started to go down the legally required list of possible adverse side effects, the familiar face of the surgeon emerged from behind the curtain. She was upbeat and excited.  Today was not the usual somber surgical occasion.  Today was somewhat of a celebration, and it was obvious that the surgeon knew it as well. 

"curtain walls"

However, surgery, no matter how welcome, is never without risk and pain.  As the surgeon laid out her plan she remembered to keep us well informed of all the possible dangers.  She explained that the surgery would probably take anywhere from one to two hours depending on what things "looked like" when she got in there and how much repair work she had to do.  She said that after the surgery Christopher would spend some time in recovery, and that he would go home after a few hours with a well supplied stock of pain medications and antibiotics.  It all sounded reasonable and well thought out.  After question and answer time was over she left us alone to wait to be transported to the operating room.

Christopher didn't seem overly nervous or scared.  He just wanted to get this over with, so that he could get back out on the water and ride his wake board.  I think Breanna, his girlfriend, and I were more nervous than he was.  Breanna had never experienced the inside of the pre-op ward before, and I just wanted everything to go smoothly.  Christopher didn't remember too much of the first thirteen surgeries, but I did.  Infection had always plagued his earlier surgeries, and I most certainly did not want a repeat of the past.  The pre-op antibiotics were of some comfort, but they hadn't stopped infection from rearing its ugly head in the past. 

While well designed plans and well focused hopes were important.  They weren't enough.  Christopher, Breanna, and I joined hands and began to pray.  We prayed a prayer of thanks.  We told God that we were thankful for the healing miracle that He had done, and we asked him to guide the surgeon's hands and protect Christopher from harm.  We prayed for a swift end to 16 long years of chronic illness and tube feeding, and we thanked God for his mercy and provision.

No entry beyond this point.

We had just barely said "amen" when the curtain flew back and the surgeon reappeared.  She was going to wheel Christopher down to the operating room herself.  We whizzed passed white walls and through automatic doors until we came to the doors of the surgical suite.  This was where Breanna and I would say goodbye.  We watched as the doctor pushed Christopher's gurney through the doors.  It's never an easy moment when you see those doors close, but I held onto the hope that this would be the last time I would ever stand and watch my son be wheeled away.  His fourteenth surgery would be his last, and 14 was definitely a lucky number.


 If you have never accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you can pray like this:

More tomorrow...