Scars

Lately, I have been asked how I am feeling about going into this second surgery.  Physically, I am finally starting to feel good again!   Friday night, my favorite cousin Stacy and I and rocked out  and danced all night to a Gwen Stefani concert.

Today I was able to do my neighborhood fit camp workout and actually felt well enough to do the full body step-ups and ice-skaters! 

 I feel free enough to do these things just in time to subject myself to another major surgery which will require at least a couple of months of down recovery time. 

As I anticipate the 2nd stage of this 2-stage liver resection, I have mixed emotions.  Gone is the paralyzing fear that accompanied the preparations surrounding the first.  I at least have an idea of what to expect.  I will be in the hospital for at least a week following the surgery. 

I will come home and be on heavy pain medication for at least least a couple of weeks.  I will have to give myself a tummy injection for 30 days following the surgery.  I will feel exhausted and have bouts of pain.  I won't be able to drive for a few weeks.  

In addition to the surgical consequences I can forecast, there are a few new risks present.  This time I will have my entire right liver lobe- nearly 80 percent of my liver and my gallbladder removed.  My surgeon is confident that I will get along fine without my gallbladder, and the remaining 20 to 30 percent will be more than enough to keep me alive. 

Still, there are questions which frequently invade my sleep:

Will the surgery cause irreparable harm to certain body functions?
Will the pain be more or less tolerable this time?

Most importantly:
Will the surgery be successful in permanently eradicating this cancer?

I echo the query posed in Norah Jone's "Nightengale," 
Does it seem like I'm looking for an answer to a question I can't ask?



Notwithstanding the answer to any of these questions, I WILL be having this surgical procedure tomorrow, Wednesday May 18th at 8:20am.  And feelings of fear and dread aside,  I am grateful that I have this opportunity for a possible cure.  Every part of the fight since August 19th of last year has lead up to this critical step in this fight.  

Speaking of "The Fight," there will be guaranteed battle scars.  Presently, I am still nursing a scar that runs for the center of my chest to my naval, and this scar will be re-opened  and have a new perpendicular companion. Until I can rock that abdominal 6 pack, I will spare you a selfie, but here is a picture of a model featured in the Colon Cancer Coalition's Colondar magazine, and my scar will look something like this, only there will be an extra added T and it will form the shape of a hockey puck.  

In addition, I still bear scars in my neck and left hand from the IV needles infused during the last surgery.  The one that still smarts is the small puncture wound on the top of my left hand.  Each time it hurts, I can't help but think of hands that bore much bigger wounds. 

The book of Isaiah, and one of my favorite movements from Handel's Messiah teaches: 

“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: … And with his stripes we are healed” (Isa. 53:4–5).

  
Recently, I read Stephanie Nielson's book, Heaven is Here which is a biographical account about a well-known mommy blogger's journey of healing from a near fatal plane crash.  She was hurt and disfigured to the point of being unrecognizable to her children.  She endured an entire year in the hospital and dozens of painful surgeries, and bears many many scars, on more visible areas of the body than the abdomen.  She had the opportunity to meet with a beloved LDS apostle, Elder Jeffery Holland who encouraged Stephanie to be proud of her scars.  He said:

"We look for Christ's scars because they are eviden e of what He did for us.  They'll be the first things He shows us when we see Him again.  Your scars tell a story, too.  Although they may not make you feel attractive, they are a witness of a miracle, that God blessed you to live, and that you have accomplished very difficult things."

Although I don't love the appearance of scars, I know they will always bear witness of what I have been able to overcome through the help of my dear family, friends, and my Savior Jesus Christ.  I can't help but think of the following song I once sang with a BYU choir, "Behold the Wounds in Jesus' Hands:"