The day

Waking up from the blackness of general anesthesia is like that deep breath of surprise when you first find out startling news.

Inhale.

A long beat.

Then you know where you are.

In recovery, with nurses and a doctor standing all around me, so much noise, lots going on.

My name, they always remember to ask what you want to be called.

And this unbelievable pain. An axe in my belly! I just want to cry, but I'm not quite conscious enough for that. Minutes pass of procedure, movement, efforts to help me. A male nurse named Dennis who just emanates this body heat, has the gentlest touch, is a visceral comfort. An angel?

What's your pain level now? Now? And now?

Then finally, the epidural begins to work and I can think about something other than my pain. With the driest of voice, I whisper, "What did they do?" fully remembering that I went into the operation with everything from a simple appendectomy to a full hysterectomy as possibilities, knowing that they would do a freeze slide to see if I had cancer.

"What did they do?"

Someone kind tells me, "They took out one ovary and your appendix, honey."

I start to cry, and another nurse rushes over. "Is she still in pain?"

"No," her comrade says, "look at the smile on her face."

That smile must be pretty big. Everyone who walks by comments. The doctor returns to check on me, and doesn't even ask if the epidural is working. "Oh, she's smiling," and walks away.

And I ask for Tim, and they say he can't come back. So I lie there thankful, so thankful, and quiet tears run down my face. Thankful not just for me, but for him, for my sisters, my family.

I find out later I had a "hemorrhagic ovary" that had adhesed to my uterus, appendix, and colon. Yuck. They removed the ovary and appendix, and I stayed in the hospital 4 nights.

Much to say about that, but later...

I'm home, I'm resting, I'm healing - just perfectly according to my surgeon. When looking at my incision site, one nurse exclaimed, "Now that's what that is supposed to look like!" and smiled.