I went and saw the surgeon today. My mom went with me (because she's wonderful) and as we were driving up we were talking. I told her I had had a dream where Dr. Soni (my surgeon) told me that he didn't want to do surgery till after Christmas, and in the dream I had immediately wanted to kill him with his own surgical implements.
My mom laughed, but then turned very serious and said, "I do think we should be prepared for the worst."
"Like what?" I replied, "Like he won't let me have surgery until November? I mean, you don't seriously think he'd wait till after Christmas...because if he did that, I might really have to kill him."
"No, no. I don't think he'll wait that long, but it may not be as soon as you want. Or he may tell you that they want to drain that cyst before they'll do surgery..." she paused, and I knew exactly where she was heading. "I know you really didn't like it when they talked about having to drain that before. Especially since you know that means-"
"I know what it means, but they would have to knock me out or something. There is no way I would let them do that with me conscious. I would have to kill them if they did that, or at least hit someone in the face," I said to cut her off. I didn't want to be thinking about the fact that them draining this cyst could very well mean that they would probably have to stick a great big needle in my stomach to drain the cyst.
"Maybe, but we just have to realize that this may not be something easy and that they may have options of how you can go about doing this."
This lead into a glorious conversation where I cried a lot because all I really want to do is move to Ohio. I have been planning this move for the past several months. I have been looking forward to moving in with Jake and Amber all this time, and had told my office that I would be leaving at the end of September. I would be heading out and starting over and possibly actually proving to myself that I am, in fact, a real adult. Instead, things are being pushed back. I will still move in with Jake and Amber, but now I have no firm ideas of when I will be healthy enough to move. And this is what I told Mom. I don't understand God's timing. I know it's good, and that He's got better timing and plans than I have, but sometimes that doesn't make it easier, when all the plans and dreams you have been building towards feel like they're unraveling. Especially when you already feel like you're a bit of a failure as adults go.
My wonderful mother told me that I was not a failure as an adult or otherwise. That I am capable, that this will still work out, and that it may seem scary, but facing our fears helps us grow. Not only do we grow, but sometimes facing those fears leads to even better things. She told me she and my dad believed in me, and that they may not be able to always fix things, but they would never always do whatever they could to support me. Things would work out. God won't let me fall.
I don't know if you know this, but my parents are phenomenal people.
We finally got up to the surgeon's, and I went in and paid an exorbitant fee (because I am insane and did not get myself insurance the moment I turned 26) and signed papers and showed them my photo idea (apparently to prove that I am the only lunatic named Jaymin Cheatwood who would show up and pay a ton of money to have a surgical "consult"). Then we waited. Sometime after I was supposed to actually have my appointment, a very sweet nurse named Maria came out and got me.
She did an initial couple of tests, weight, and had me reexplain how the heck I had gotten myself to the point of a surgical consult. Then she told me Dr. Soni would be in shortly. Another ten minutes or so pass, and then, lo and behold, who should appear but Dr. Soni (with his insanely long eye lashes, and incredibly messy hair, perhaps we wore a hat to work?) with Maria again to take notes.
After about 30 seconds of him poking around at my abdomen, he told me that he wanted to schedule me for another CT scan, and that he wanted me to see Dr. Ikenberry (the gastroenterologist). He also wanted me to come back and see him after the CT scan. He told me he really doesn't believe that the spots on my liver are cancer, but they'll still need to look at them again. He also wants to see if the psuedocyst is going down at all and to make sure my pancreas is doing alright. He said he really doesn't want to do surgery until the psuedocyst goes down a bit more (or they'll go in if I end up very sick), and if it doesn't, they'll have to go in and drain it. Then he asked if I had any questions. I really didn't.
My mom asked about recovery time from having my gall bladder removed. He said he really didn't want to talk about the surgery and recovery time until we set up the actual procedure. Dr. Soni seems to think that in roughly a month, when I see him next, that he'll be able to tell us more about all of that and get everything lined up. He said they'll set up the CT scan for me, to make the appointment with Ikenberry, and that he'd see me in a month.
I spent less than 7 minutes will him, for a truly ridiculous price. All this better be worth it.
So we left and headed home. I told Mom that I had no idea how to feel about all of this. Yes, they think I am healing, but I still have no idea when I'll get to have surgery. This means I still have no idea about anything else too.
No idea when I will be feeling better.
No idea when I will get to move to Ohio.
No idea how I am going to pay for all of this.
No idea.
Mom handed me her phone and had me call Dad to tell him how things went, and as I am in the middle of telling him how frustrated I was that I paid a ridiculous (at least to me) sum of money to see a doctor that told me mostly what I had already heard, but not anything closer to me having surgery, and that I'd see him for maybe 7 minutes...Dad stops me and says, "I put $75 in your account." He goes on to tell me that a beloved cousin had asked him to deposit money into my account to help with my expenses in all this. I thanked him for the good news, told him I loved him, and got off the phone.
I ended up crying for the next 10 or so minutes. I was just so overwhelmed by the love and kindness of someone who I already adore and respect so much...God's timing really is perfect.
I still don't know a lot of things about my future, immediate or otherwise, and I am still incredibly frustrated at some of this because I still don't feel like I have answers for something that should be so simple, but at the same time I know this: I am so blessed.
God is using the people I love and respect, along with acquaintances and a couple of strangers to show me that He loves me, and that He's got this under control.
Something's gotta give, obviously, and it needs to be me.
So here's my white flag God. I surrender. You've got to take care of this because clearly I cannot.
One last thing because I haven't done one any time recently, here is a list.
Favorite Things of This Very Moment (3:25 pm CST):
- Kleenex
- My Hawaiian Breeze fan
- Writing thank you notes
- Tall glasses of ice water and lemon
- The bracelet Nikky made me at FUEL this year which I have been wearing all day
- Mom's pep talks
- My dad
- Sleeping kitties (who are NOT on the table this time)
- Surprises
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