Peace, Be Still

Twenty four hours from now, I will likely be out of surgery and in recovery.  If I survive this liquid diet.

This afternoon I started feeling like I may be getting a fever, but I really think it’s just dehydration. I haven’t been drinking those liquids like I should because they make my empty stomach that more uncomfortable.  However, after a call to the doctor about the possible fever led to a warning that tomorrow’s surgery might be rescheduled, I suddenly became motivated to drink a little more water.  I’m holding steady now that I’m forcing myself to drink more, so that’s a good sign.  It’s also great that the doctor decided since I’m having so much trouble with liquids I should go ahead and eat light foods just to help the liquids go down.  Whee-hoo.  That’s a relief.

The MOST AWESOME news is that I do not have to choke down any more of the Miralax!  Yahoo and Amen!  Last night’s encounter with Miralax was unpleasant and led to nausea that lingered into today — we know how well that went over.  Yep.  I get nauseous, I stop eating and drinking and suffer through an endless panic attack, and then I get dehydrated.  Somehow I think the mere thought of having to chug any more of that nasty stuff was holding me back from drinking anything.

The other FANTASTIC news is that prayers work.  Yes, we all hear that every now and then.  But I sent out a FB message this afternoon asking for specific prayer that my temperature would not rise any more.  Guess what?  It came back down to normal after I drank about 5oz of water.  Yea, God!  Yea for you for praying!

And I have to give a huge shout out to my husband who went “clear liquids shopping” this morning for me.  He is about beside himself with worry over me and is traversing the roads, getting our daughter to her various places while trying to stay caught up with work-related issues.  He stayed awake with me most of last night as I tossed and turned and gurgled, and he’s going to stay with me in the hospital so I won’t have to be alone.

Speaking of daughters, please pray for my girl.  Twelve-going-on-thirteen is a rough age.  Tonight she’s spending the night at a friend’s house so she won’t have to hang out at the hospital all day tomorrow.  She’s pretty scared but is doing a good job of hiding it.  It’s normal to feel a bit anxious.  I just pray that SHE will experience God’s peace through all this and that her faith will grow stronger, not weaker, no matter what happens with the surgery.

I’ve asked my most awesome hubby to post on this blog sometime tomorrow just to update how everything went.  I really hope Dr. Reisler doesn’t find one of these inside when he looks around with his scope!  (B’ellana Torres, Star Trek Voyager, Nothing Human.)

But even if he does, at least we’ll have an explanation for what’s been going on with my innards. (Just joking, of course!)

Thanks again for your prayers for the peace that surpasses human understanding…a peace so full that it shines, so that I will be a light and won’t hide under a bushel.  A peace that drives away anxiety so I can be still.  A peace that battles illness in order to restore health.

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