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Dear friends (for I do consider you all friends, even those who remain cloaked in the veil of anonymity),
Today's post is a serious one. Tomorrow morning my mom will enter the hospital, and at one o'clock she will enter the operating room for a knee replacement. I know this is a routine surgery that is done thousands of times every day across the country, but nothing is routine when it is personal.
My mom has withstood arthritis for the last sixteen years, and she has gone as long as she can go on these knees; it's time for a trade-in, an upgrade, a newer model, if you will. It has come to the point that every step is a struggle, and you can see the pain she is constantly feeling written all over her face. At 56, she is a relatively young candidate for a knee replacement, but she has simply endured as much as she can.
I ask you for your prayers and thoughts throughout this process. I ask, of course, for prayer throughout the actual surgery tomorrow, but the road of recovery will be a long one, as well, and I know there will bumps in that road. I ask you to pray for my mom's strength, determination, and dedication to fulfilling the goals necessary for recovery. I also ask that you will pray for her to have calm throughout these final hours before the surgery; my mother is a lady of strong faith, and I know her faith and trust in the Lord will take her a far way.
I also ask that, while you're at it, you say a little prayer for my courage and patience throughout this process. Because my mom and I have been a two-man team for the past fourteen years, a lot of the responsibility that comes along with preparations, care, and arrangements for the surgery has fallen on my shoulders. I will be the first to admit that sometimes that responsibility frightens me, but I know my faith in God will help me to overcome the obstacles I fear. In addition, I know there will be days throughout her recovery that will try my patience, and I ask that you pray for God to give me understanding and resilience so that I can be an encouragement to her.
Finally, I ask you to pray for the team of doctors, nurses, and therapists that will take her through surgery and recovery. I pray God will use these people as his hands on earth to heal what is broken and hurting in my mom. I pray that even though they go through this procedure everyday, she will remain an individual to them, a person and not just a chart. She has full faith in all of these people, and I know she will receive excellent treatment.
As I said above, it has been just my mom and I for more than a decade now, so, although she is having the surgery, we are really going into this together. She and I have an indescribable bond, and, although, like all mothers, she knows just how to push my buttons, I cannot imagine what my life would be like without her. I ask you to offer up a prayer anytime you think of us throughout these next days, weeks, and months as she recovers. Any prayers would be valued and cherished, even if you don't know my mom, even if, in fact, you don't know me.
I thank you in advance for your love and support throughout this process. Your support for me in turn supports her, so I thank you for your thoughts and prayers. I thank you just for listening.
All my love,
Spring
I could be persuaded to do just about anything by a man with an accent.
Okay, not anything, but accents are way up there on the "things my dream man would have" list.
Yesterday my pastor came to visit my mom and I to talk with us before her knee replacement on Monday (major post about that coming tomorrow). He is Scottish and has the most amazing brogue you have ever heard. Ordinary words sounded so much more eloquent and distinguished, and I could have listened to him talk for-ev-er.
His visit also brought this idea to my attention: Europeans seem to have incredibly elevated vocabularies. He used words that are almost never spoken in American diction, and they came so naturally to him you knew he wasn't showing off. He just spoke like that. Being the English major and lover of words that I am, I ate it up and continued to think about it long after his visit ended (obviously).
On Tuesday, I went to Wal-Mart. As some of you may know, Wal-Mart is a place that I loathe; the very sight of it escalates my blood pressure, and going inside puts me on edge within seconds. For that reason, I don't go very often, so, when I do, my list (er... scroll) is so long that I am there for hours, thus heightening my hatred for the place.
It's a vicous circle.
So, like I said I went Tuesday. I am well aware that it is now Friday, but it has taken me this long to digest and come to terms with the horrors that I saw and heard. If you're a frequenter (is that a word?) of Wal-Mart, you know that the irritation of the whole experience often starts before you even make it into the store. It is always a nightmare to find a parking space, and I almost always end up parking in outer Mongolia because the neverending circles are making me dizzy. It also seems that, every time I visit our Wal-Mart, the parking lot is where I see every destitute and down-on-his-luck individual in the tri-county area. I try to make my way into the store as quickly as possible, for the parking lot of Wal-Mart is a rather depressing place.
After making it inside, I had to stop off at the pharmacy, which is a miniature jungle inside the monstrosity. Obviously, due to the nature of the beast, many of the people in the pharmacy are at their very worst. They're sick; they're tired; they're taking care of a sick child or parent; they're unshowered; they're wearing their pajamas; they've been waiting far longer than the initial promise time; they're miserable. There are always kids screaming at the tops of their lungs, parents glaring at anything and everything that crosses their paths, and, of course, the oh-so-unhelpful people behind the counter. (It has always been my belief that they put the most unhelpful "associates" behind the counter in the pharmacy. Why is this?)
And then you have me - just picking up a routine, everyday, run-of-the-mill prescription. The people waiting hate me because I don't look sick, and the people working there ignore me because I'm not sneezing in their faces. On Tuesday, however, there was also a woman who spoke no English and a child who looked like he might throw up on my feet at any minute. Add all this together, and you might be able to imagine what it was like.
So, after thankfully exiting the pharmacy area, I proceeded to do the rest of my shopping, which included numerous items on both the "Wal-Mart" side as well as the grocery side. As I made my way around the store, I kept encountering these armies of unattended children. Seriously, there were gangs of them without a parent in sight. These were young children, and they always seemed to be blocking the aisles or throwing things from shelves or chasing each other around corners. Where were their parents? Probably saw their out and made their escape, along with my sanity.
The rest of the trip went on about like this, with the whole thing culminating at the check out, which is always an adventure. Of course, as per usual, I got in the line that required a price check or something in front of me, but it was too late to turn back, for I had already unloaded all the contents of my buggy. How typical.
Thinking I was in the home stretch, I practically sprinted toward my car. I did not get far, however, before I was accosted by the lady with the yellow hiliter sitting by the door. After finally breaking away from her, my car in sight, I began to pick up speed. Apparently, I got a little (a lot) overzealous, for two of my bags fell off the top of the heap, scattering their contents all over the asphalt. The perfect summation to a perfectly hellacious trip.
Actually, I'm getting steamed up just thinking back over it.
Those of you who are able to frequent Target or any other such establishment should count your lucky stars, for I would not wish the abysmal plight of shopping at Wal-Mart on my worst enemy.
Oh, and PS: I decided to go with watch #2 (see post below), and it should be here in 4-8 business days! Happy school year and happy 4.0 to me! (Sorry for the shameless plug... I just couldn't help it!)
