Peering at my stomach, I chuckled.
I chuckled because my surgeon left whimsical surgical artistry across the mid-section of my voluptuous body that is nonsensical to me!
Gazing at these freaking zig-zags sent me into hysterics once again. Heck, instead of stressing about these “newly acquired” beauty marks which no one will probably ever see, I should be shouting to the rafters that….
I’m alive!
Five days post surgery; I am ecstatic to announce to my family, friends, and readers that I am, thankfully, alive and feeling so much better.
Unknown to you, had been consumed with excruciating pain for over three months. Like most women with “super woman” tendencies, just ignored the pain. However, this pain stalked me like a jilted lover by pouncing upon my tranquil sanctuary each and every day, hour, minute, and second!
Just imagine having a migraine headache, a throbbing tooth ache, and a steady drum beat attacking you “simultaneously and at the same time!”
Mercy.
This pain just would not let me be!
So, over night, was sent into a seismic tizzy when my doctor ordered my surgery as “stat.” Using hospital vernacular, “stat” means immediately and without delay. This word is frequently used as a response to a life threatening situation.
Ready or not, Andrea Giggetts’ universe had succumbed to “stat.”
It wasn’t easy!
As the appointed hour crept upon me, I became spastic. Raw emotions and tears replaced sensibilities. Doubts replaced faith. Nerves replaced self-assurance.
Sent a barrage of texts to my BFF (Wesley) suggesting that I should do some type of “swan song” activity such as drink a bottle of wine. For the record, I don’t drink. Folks, for a damn fleeting moment even thought of quickly flying to Colorado to get my first marijuana high.
Laugh out loud!
But in the final analysis, was wise enough to know that no pill, drink, drug, or “swan song” activity could replace one’s peace and solitude with Jesus.
So, I turned to God.
Thanked Him for my brilliant and skilled surgeon.
Gave thanks for the plethora of insurance and benefit programs that I had access to which availed me to the best hospitalization, services, and treatments in Orlando.
Thankful that during my journey to and from Orlando, was able to avoid any auto mishaps, mechanical malfunctions, or traffic snarls which would have delayed my urgent operation.
Thankful that my editor, Gillian, gave me the necessary time off to adequately prepare for my surgery.
Thankful that my incarcerated friends, Baron and Steven, thought enough of me to send well wishes, blessings, and words of encouragement. Touched that both used their limited funds in their inmate accounts to buy me cards. You are the best!
Thankful that Al, Desiree, Clifford, Phyllis, Jackie (Maryland), Jackie (Florida), David, and Katie encircled me with love, time, and attention.
Thankful that Pat Lamar-Schell was aroused by God to call me.
Thankful to Deacon Simmons and his wife, Carolyn, who also must have been alerted by God regarding my impending surgery.
Thankful to my daughter, Mantha, who did not use my absence as an excuse to not soar in her studies at school. Of course, she did not fail to remind her dad that in my absentia she was serving as “lady of the house.”
Kids!
Thankful to my husband, Nicholas, for his herculean faith and love. Due to his own health challenges, he was unable to accompany me to the hospital. Can not imagine the depths of his worry, angst, stress, and the agony that he must have shouldered during that anxiety-ridden day as he anxiously waited in Jacksonville for medical updates and status reports from Wesley.
Speaking of Wesley….
Could not have walked this harried journey without him being my earth angel. During this entire ordeal, he calmly, confidently, and ably served as a surrogate for Nick and as my emotional “punching bag.” Thanks, Wesley, for assisting us through this storm. You are truly amazing!
And, villagers, you are loved!
