It’s almost time. I’m already having the dream where I’m wandering around trying to decide what to pack and everyone is waiting for me. It’s the one where I’m also standing, undressed, in front of my closet, paralyzed. Nothing looks like my clothes and I just stare. It’s as if I’m glued to the floor.
Hubby is going to have surgery soon. It’s a couple of weeks out. I can’t wait for it. I’m terrified of it. I’m making lists for my lists. I’ve read everything they’ve sent and everything I can find on the internet (don’t do that!). I’ve also read most of it to him. Because, you know…men.
The house is being made ready for convalescence. I’ve cleaned the fridge, because you know…you never know. The windows are clean, because if I were laid up the dirty windows would bother me. I bought thank you cards, because people are going to visit and bring food.
Valentines are ready to mail. The oven is clean, because…I don’t know!
The hospital checklist is detailed. If you forget to take the MRI the surgery will be cancelled. CANCELLED, people! I can’t do this again. The surgery cannot be cancelled. Therefore, the MRI is in the folder that is in the bag that is being made ready.
The truth is, controlling things is sort of my thing. Order makes me happy and knowing exactly what to expect makes me really happy. When I travel on business, I spend lots of time on Google Earth. I look at the street view from the front of my hotel. I research restaurants, shopping malls, drug stores in near proximity. I love familiarity.
To say that I’m anxious about this might be a bit understated. They are going to cut his back open and expose his spine, friends. I’ve seen pictures (note remarks above warning about internet research). The surgeon has done thousands of these procedures and I’m sure it’s just another day at the office for him, but this is my sweetheart. It’s not just another tick mark in a long line of one after another. It’s my love.
Be still my trembling heart. I know. Over and over I remind myself that God has him. He has us. And He will be with us through the storm.
I have a really nice new camera. I want to do some cool shots and every single time it focuses on the object in the foreground. I’ve got to spend some time with the owner’s manual to learn how to switch from auto focus.
The truth is, that’s the problem with this surgery. On auto focus, fear and anxiety are in the foreground of every shot.
It’s time to be finished with house work and packing. The lists we’ll be making these next two weeks are of gratitude and confidence. It’s time to celebrate healing and look forward to precious opportunities to be a blessing in this journey.
Focus, Lorraine, focus. It’s about to get real up in here.
You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.