In Which I Am Indisposed


1.  slightly unwell.
'my wife is indisposed'

synonyms: ill, unwell, sick, on the sick list, poorly, ailing, not {very} well, out of sorts, out of action, under the weather, laid up


I put the surgery off long enough.  A tennis-ball-sized cyst has no business growing inside you.  This was the week ... and here's what I've learned.

You quickly learn that your anesthesiologist becomes your best friend.  

When your arms have been worked over for far-too-long becoming two gigantic pin cushions as 3 nurses tag team a tenderly relentless hunt for a tiny willing vein to hold an IV, you have no choice but to loudly and desperately command, 'knock me out.'

Said anesthesiologist has no choice but to pay prompt attention to your very insistent prompts {and your husband's quiet yet stern warnings}.  He takes one glance at the anxious hot mess you've become and he has mercy on your sobbing soul.

Wake me when it's over.  Sweet bliss indeed.

The next generation of medical professionals are the most compassionate, caring, competent ever.

Especially the women {nothing against my anesthesiologist friend}.  But really, these women are topnotch.  Smart and intuitive and people-savvy.  I love my surgeon and all her healing partners.  {Did I mention that my youngest daughter is back in school so she can join their ranks?  I'm thinking free medical consultation and care for life.}

You think you're never going to get well.

The first days home were like one long unending out-of-body experience.

The fading anesthesia and ever-present pain meds control your body even as you want to be done with their oh-so-wicked side effects.  Every step is tentative, every breath fragile, you long for sleep if you could only get comfortable.  You want to focus to read or write but it's beyond useless so you simply lay there and watch the entire first season of Downton Abbey.

You're fairly sure you'll never stop wearing a nightgown.  You'll never write another word that matters, never be able to produce any kind of meaningful work again.  Or be able to do a load of laundry or have a conversation that doesn't revolve around your endless ailments.

Gifts like prayer and chocolate, texts and flowers, cards and warm comfort food from someone else's kitchen are beautiful encouraging graces.    

In the midst of the heavy cloud that seems to cover you, it slowly dawns that others are rooting for you, cheering you on from the sidelines.  And their prayers and practical ways of saying 'I love you' keep you moving into each new hour.

And wonder of wonders, each day you realize you are getting just a bit stronger.  Your brain is becoming a tad clearer.  Your interest in all the love that's been flowing toward you grows more appreciative.  Your gratitude for prayer increases yet again.  The One who loves you most never left you for one single moment.

The pathology report confirms that no cancer is present.  All will be well. 


sharing the waning days of September with 
Leah  &  Holley