More Post Op

There were days before my surgery when I was ready to run. To get away. To ignore it. Even when the surgeon came to visit me as I lay on the gurney waiting to go to pre-op, I was still thinking, no, I should wait. Because, as they go to great pains to tell you, things can always go wrong. And I’m really good at understanding completely what they mean. Death. Stroke. Incapacitation.

But I overcame my fears. In fact, I embraced them, because I knew that avoiding the surgery was embracing the thing I feared. Death. The aneurysm would rupture. There would be pain. I would die. Most likely. And even though there was a chance of death in the operation room, it was a certainty without the procedure. So, off I went into the hands of strangers.

Now, here I sit. Repaired. Every day, the pain in my groin where they accessed my arteries decreases. The bruises are fading. The wounds are healing. I’m walking up the stairs. I take the grand-kids to school. I’m making plans. There will be follow-ups. There will be check-ins. But there’s a sense my body has accepted their synthetic brethren and that blood will flow. And I think it’s amazing to ponder how much effort and energy was expended to extend the life of me, a man of little consequence. I think it says good things about us as a species, and I think we should spend more time cultivating that part of our soul, doing for others.