ANESTHETIC = 1, STEPH = 0
There was this one time, I had cancer. I even wrote a book about it. So I'm pretty much famous and I thought I'd share one of many prayer stories from that time...
LUMPECTOMY (noun, lump-eck-ta-mee) 1. The surgical removal of a breast cyst or tumor. Origin: 1970-75 lump + ectomy
So I had one of those.
I awoke groggy (as most patients do). My eyelids were heavy, my limbs seemed immovable, and my head weighed more than a bowling ball (the heavy ones professional bowlers use, not the fluorescent balls children use...and I use). I blinked my lids open and found a cute beanie baby and balloon sitting with me and my mom sitting just across the room. I think I smiled at her in my sleepy head, not on my actual face. I worked my way to sitting, letting my head hang on my neck for a minute or two.
Somehow I had a bag of my clothes in my arms and I proceeded to put them on (a shirt that zipped up the front, genius, shorts and my Adidas tennies). No sooner had I emptied the bag of its contents then I filled it back up...with my insides. Apparently the anesthetic did not agree with me...and it continued to disagree with me all the way home. There is a point of dilusion, when it doesn't seem real even though it feels VERY real. My eyes were crying tears even though I wasn't actually crying, just convulsing a little...or a lot. I did learn a useful tip: ziplock bags are the greatest tool for vomit control.
I lay in the guest room of my parent's home, too exhausted and delirious to do anything...even pray (which is saying something). My dad, a sympathetic crier, sat by my side and took my hand and asked, "would you like a blessing?" I probably responded, but that evening blurred a bit from the hospital on, so I'm not totally sure. What I do remember is Clark Wallace and my dad laying their hands on my head and pronouncing a blessing of health and peace and then me, calmly falling asleep.
Anesthetic = 0, Power of God = infinity
There was this one time, I had cancer. I even wrote a book about it. So I'm pretty much famous and I thought I'd share one of many prayer stories from that time...
LUMPECTOMY (noun, lump-eck-ta-mee) 1. The surgical removal of a breast cyst or tumor. Origin: 1970-75 lump + ectomy
So I had one of those.
I awoke groggy (as most patients do). My eyelids were heavy, my limbs seemed immovable, and my head weighed more than a bowling ball (the heavy ones professional bowlers use, not the fluorescent balls children use...and I use). I blinked my lids open and found a cute beanie baby and balloon sitting with me and my mom sitting just across the room. I think I smiled at her in my sleepy head, not on my actual face. I worked my way to sitting, letting my head hang on my neck for a minute or two.
Somehow I had a bag of my clothes in my arms and I proceeded to put them on (a shirt that zipped up the front, genius, shorts and my Adidas tennies). No sooner had I emptied the bag of its contents then I filled it back up...with my insides. Apparently the anesthetic did not agree with me...and it continued to disagree with me all the way home. There is a point of dilusion, when it doesn't seem real even though it feels VERY real. My eyes were crying tears even though I wasn't actually crying, just convulsing a little...or a lot. I did learn a useful tip: ziplock bags are the greatest tool for vomit control.
I lay in the guest room of my parent's home, too exhausted and delirious to do anything...even pray (which is saying something). My dad, a sympathetic crier, sat by my side and took my hand and asked, "would you like a blessing?" I probably responded, but that evening blurred a bit from the hospital on, so I'm not totally sure. What I do remember is Clark Wallace and my dad laying their hands on my head and pronouncing a blessing of health and peace and then me, calmly falling asleep.
Anesthetic = 0, Power of God = infinity
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