Not Missing My Friends

Don't get me wrong. I really like my friends. But when everyone goes on Spring Break except me, I love it. Here's why:

1. Less traffic. I get to the office faster and then I get everywhere else faster. Nice.
2. Lines are shorter. Fewer people everywhere means shorter lines. Nice.
3. Fewer shoppers. The stores aren't as crowded and the merchandise isn't picked over. Nice.
4. Everything in the evenings is canceled because everyone is out of town. Except me. I'm home watching three nights of American Idol. Nice. (Except for Michael Johns, a real pro with a good voice, who was surprisingly eliminated tonight. If you are just getting back from the beach and haven't watched your Tivo of AI, sorry.)
5. It feels like summer. We stay up late and sleep in a bit. The weather is nice and the routine feels lazy. Nice.
6. Fewer phone calls. Fewer emails. Fewer demands. Fewer requests. Fewer "duties". It's all nice.

So, thanks for the week off at home. I didn't spend a lot of money. I didn't get sunburned. I didn't put lots of miles on my car or eat up a lot of gasoline. I didn't have to find someone to watch my hyper dog and I didn't put anything on my credit card. I didn't eat lots of junk food on the road and I didn't blow a stack of cash eating out every night.

Dave Ramsey would be proud.

Nice.

"Mean People S*ck"

Have you ever seen that bumper sticker? I have, and I've always wondered who in the world it was talking about. I really don't know any mean people, therefore I never understood the significance of the bumper sticker.

Until now. I met the person that bumper sticker was referencing. She was "mean-spirited", as my daughter put it. She was hostile. She was mad at the world and everyone in it. She yells at kids and she calls them names. Unfortunately, she is a teacher.

I've seldom been around someone who couldn't look me in the eye and showed disdain for everyone in the room. Part of me felt sorry for her. She must be miserable. The other part of me was furious because she had screamed at my child and been unfair and unreasonable. The mother in me won out. I couldn't maintain my sympathy for her angry life. She had attacked my child - and my husband and me, even questioning our parenting skills.

She made all of us hurt under her attack, but in the end, we won. We walked out of the room to a life of joy and peace and hope and love. She walked back to her classroom to stand in front of teenagers and belittle them because they can't learn from a teacher who won't let them ask questions.

I pictured her scowling at the class from the front of the room. And I thought, "I know a good bumper sticker for your bulletin board."

Dedicating the Bear

Elijah has another name around our family. He's called "Elijah Bear" and it really suits him. He's like a lovable little teddy bear with wide eyes and soft, light brown hair. That darling lamb (I mean, bear) was dedicated Sunday morning at RiverStone and it touched my heart.

He reached for the microphone and the Bible, so Pastor Tom proclaimed Elijah ready to preach! Tom Roan had a word from God about Elijah - that he would be strong-willed (oh boy - thanks for the warning), but that God would use that strong will to make him a leader and strong in the kingdom. Pastor Mark prayed for the "spirit of Elijah" to fall on him, the spirit of a prophet who proclaims the Lord. He said Elijah had to precede the coming of the Lord and make way for Him. I have no doubt that "my Elijah" will do the same.

Everyone gathered at my house for lunch and we enjoyed having so many relatives here. The party started after church and the last family members left about 11 p.m. --- some party! But, we were celebrating the most precious child in the world. And that takes a long time to do him justice.

I Got a "Twofer"!

Last week was so disappointing. My surgical recovery wasn't going as planned and I really hurt. The odd thing was, I hurt where my gall bladder wasn't... right in the center of my abdomen ... sometimes wanting to double over in pain. I wondered about a blood clot. I thought about internal bruising. I mused about all sorts of complications (even the proverbial sponge left in the incision).

The surgeon was out until Monday, so I went in early this week to ask him what it could be. He hesitated a minute, saying that I really shouldn't hurt there because my gall bladder wasn't removed at that locale. Duh! He pushed on it (why in God's great name do doctors - and my husband - always push on the spot where I say it hurts? Just take my word for it, for the love...). Then he strolled over to my chart and started flipping pages and reading along. Then, His Royal Casualness said, "It's probably hurting where I did the hernia surgery."

What???? I didn't HAVE hernia surgery. Oh, but apparently I did! It's just that no one bothered to tell me and silly me was asleep at the time and didn't pick up on it. How COULD I have slept through a second procedure and not known it? Oh, that's right. It's called anesthesia... invented so you don't remember if you get two procedures instead of one.

Funny thing is, I walked out of the doctor's exam room and was handed two bills: one for gall bladder and one for hernia repair. Gee, it looks like SOMEONE remembered!

Lessons Learned from Surgery

Nothing ever happens like you plan it. After my emergency gallbladder surgery, I read online that I needed to recover for 3 days in bed and then 3 weeks for a total recovery. So, after 3 days I got up. And went back to bed. Day 4? In bed. Day 5 - back to work for the morning. Days 5 1/2, 6 and 7 - in bed again.

I've had some complications and side effects. I'm convinced the anesthesia is still in my system and making me feel tired. And today, I discovered I may have a hematoma in my abdomen and must return to pain meds. I hate to be a wimp, but it hurts.

Through it all, I've realized some things I needed to realize:
1. People love me (not all people, but some people) and have brought me flowers and meals. One of Ellen's friends came with tulips and sat on the bed and talked to me. People called and sent emails and cards. And asked my family about me at church. That all meant a lot.
2. Even as I suffered in excruciating pain and throwing up before surgery, I kept thinking about my dear friends with cancer and chemo who feel horrible all of the time... and that gave me courage to plow through and be half the persons that they are each day.
3. God is faithful. Despite being unable to work (I'm a consultant and depend on hourly projects), He has given us a peace about surviving the expense of the surgery and the loss of income.
4. My family is there for me. I knew that, but I'm usually on the giving end and seldom see things from this side. That was good for me.
5. My girls are amazing (Ann and Elle). And so are my boys (Bob, Brent and Elijah).

And finally...
During my recovery, I was taking a nap with my little grandson sleeping next to me. I woke up first and was just staring at his precious face. I studied his long, slightly curled eyelashes and perfectly formed nose. I could not get over how dear he is and how much I love him. In the stillness of the afternoon, I was soaking up the blessings of Elijah. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me looking at him. He broke into a big smile as the joy crossed his tiny face. If I hadn't been recovering, I would have missed that nap. And that smile that melted my heart. And I would have missed knowing such a deep feeling of love on this side of heaven.

Emergency Surgery - an episode for the memory book

I didn't make it. I went in for blood work on Wednesday and was scheduled to have an ultrasound on Monday. THEN we were going to decide about gall bladder surgery. Logically. Methodically.

But Thursday morning found me writhing in pain and throwing up without end, so off we headed at 1 a.m. to the ER. And, after waiting a miserable two hours for pain medication (two people were in life or death cardiac distress, unfortunately - for them AND for me!), I was rushed off to surgery. Now I have 4 incisions and abdominal soreness, but I'll be better soon. I'm grateful the diseased gall bladder is gone so my liver can heal and the pain will never be back!

When I feel better, I'll write more about my hospital escapade. It was an interesting adventure that ended up with me recovering in a chair after surgery - much to my daughters' chagrin. "Can't my mama get a bed after her operation? For the love....!"

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

To quote another journalist (who is slightly more famous than I am), "no good deed goes unpunished." Clare Booth Luce was apparently certain that the world was evil enough to beget evil - even in return for good. And while I disagree with her pessimistic theology (perhaps from the drugs she took in the 1950's), I have to admit that sometimes - like today - I can relate!

Let me put this in perspective. I've lost 35 lbs. and feel better than I have in years. I've dropped about 4 sizes and have been eating so healthy it's sickening. Literally. Today, I found out that the past 12 days of horrible back pain and throwing up off and on is probably from gallstones. What? My doctor sat down and sort of smirked a little, "Yeah, when you lose a significant amount of weight, we don't really know why, but the bile changes and often forms gallstones. We'll run an ultrasound and if that's what it is, you'll have to have surgery."

Let me get this straight. I have swallowed enough grilled chicken and eggbeaters to last me a lifetime and my reward is surgery? The doctor continued, "But congratulations on losing so much weight. That's great!"

Funny. It doesn't feel great. I think I would have preferred fat with no surgery.