A Cluttered Mind

My daughter had a relatively minor surgical procedure performed today. She entered the hospital as an outpatient early in the morning and was released in the early afternoon. My wife and I took her to the hospital and waited there throughout the process. We went to the area where they do the prep work before surgery and then went in later to sit with her in the recovery area. She’s resting comfortably at home now so all is well. It has taken me all day before I could write these present thoughts, in part because I’ve been busy taking care of things like food and medicine, but mostly because I’m a dad. Nothing is easy.

It was a little weird to see all of the medical stuff associated with surgery today. On one side of my mind was the involvement and concern with my daughter’s condition, but on the other side were the memories and thoughts that arose with being in the surgery section of a hospital. As the pastor of a church I visit hospitals fairly often, but I rarely have the need to visit the areas directly associated with surgery.

The memories and thoughts that arose within my mind today served to convince me further that I really don’t want to commit myself to any kind of medical procedure that involves anything beyond the usual visits to a doctor’s office. Those memories don’t hold much for me beyond negative feelings of a time filled with helpless dependence, pain, confusion, and an uneasy level of grief. The truth remains that the motorcycle accident created several injuries that will require further long-term treatment, but I really can’t stand the thought of being placed in the care of a hospital again. I like being in charge of my body and my life on a day to day basis, and I don’t want anyone else telling me what to eat, when to get up, or when to submit my arms to needles and gauges. I truly hope that God blesses all those who devote their lives to a nursing career, but I want nothing to do with them myself. I’ve grown quite accustomed to being in charge of my day to day existence, and I’m vehemently opposed to having that change in any way for any period of time. It’s enough that I have to do all of the things that I do now to make the doctors happy. I mean, what’s a little pain or discomfort when compared to personal freedom?

I’m very much thankful that my daughter is safely recovering because she means much more to me than my own life, but man, going back to the inner workings of the surgery department in a hospital today has sort of sent me on a bit of a personal rant. I’ll get over it soon enough and return to a more rational stance, but this seems like as good a time as any to just rant.