Prayers: Chapter 15

And wait…
On Sunday July 15th prayers were being said for me. Not only were the members of my church praying, but people in churches around the state were praying. In fact there were people all over the country praying for me. I kind-of felt like the character 'George Bailey' from the move "It's a Wonderful Life" a man who had a whole town praying for him. How did I get some many people to pray for me? I'll explain.
First; there was the congregation of my church who had been praying for me since they first learned that I had cancer. Also, many of my wonderful co-workers, most of whom were church goers (they were Episcopalian, Methodist, Presbyterian, Catholic and Mormon). have put my name on their church's prayer list.
Second; there was my family. I did not have a religious up-bring. In fact my parents never took me to church when I was a child. There were some religious conflicts when I was growing up. My father was raised Catholic, and most of his side of the family remained Catholic. My mother was first raised Lutheran, and then somewhere along the line my maternal grandmother became a Jehovah Witness. On that side of the family the religious beliefs run all over the place, from Presbyterian to Greek Orthodox. So with my aunts and uncles putting my name on each of their church's prayer chain I had many different houses of worship in dozens of states and Canada praying for me.
Then there was my husband's family with their generations of devout Methodist Ministers, my father-in-law and my sister-in-law (who are both ministers) have put my name on their pray chains also. So that is how I got so many people praying for me.
Speaking of my in-laws, they drove up from their home in South Jersey to pick up my girls. My in-laws kindly offered to take my kids home with them for the next few days, suggesting that it would be easier for everyone if Ronnie and Leah stay with them while I went to the hospital. Mark and I thought that it was a great idea because the tension was getting pretty thick around our house.
-
And wait…
On July 16th my husband 's boss Katharine showed up unexpectedly at our house. Yes ministers have bosses besides…Him. Let me take a minute to explain the hierarchy of the Methodist Church. First, this is a world wide religion. Each country is broken down in to districts or conferences. Mark is a member of the Greater New Jersey Annual Conference. Each conference has a Bishop and several district superintendents or DS's depending on the size of the district. Each DS has x-number of churches or charges. The first time that I tried to explain this to my father his first question was:
"No Pope?"
"That is correct Dad, no Pope."
Every year each church holds a Charge Conference which is presided over by the DS. At the Charge Conference the minister and members discuss the events that have taken place over the last year and set goals for the next year.
Every year each charge (or church) sends representatives (both ministers and lay people) to the three day Annual Charge Conference (a minister's convention, there is a joke there somewhere), which is presided over by that Annual Conference's Bishop. At Annual Conference, ideas, changes, wants and needs are discussed.
Every four years there is a General Conference where representatives from each Annual Charge Conference from around the world meet and set the stance of the United Methodist Church (your church donations at work). Each Conference is linked to the other Conferences and each Methodist Church. So each church and each minister is connected to each other. Get It? Then you are way a head of me.
Anyway Katherine showed up at our house to pray with us. After I got over the shock of her showing up, I found myself enjoying her visit very much. After a few minutes of small talk she opened her Bible and read some scripture that she had selected for me. The three of us held hands and prayed. She then told me that there was an international Minister's prayer chain on the internet and she had put my name on it. So that is how I had gone international. I was even bigger than George Bailey…double cool.
-
I confess, even with all of these people praying for me, I was still terrified. I felt pretty confidante about Dr. Sullivan and Dr. Asgari, but the anesthesiologist scared the hell out of me, because he/she was an unknown. After all, I spent weeks searching for Dr. Sullivan and he recommended Dr. Asgari who had great references. But the hospital assigns an anesthesiologist to each surgery. So I will get assigned one by the luck of the draw.
Maybe it was because I watch too many of those TV News Magazine type shows, but it seemed to me that every other week there was a story about a patient dying because the anesthesiologist was drunk or on drugs. Remember those stats; 1 out of 250,000 die on the table because of anesthesia-related mistake. There is more.
Back in college I showed the bad judgement of dating one of my professors (do you get the feeling that I didn't do well with men until I met Mark?). Anyway, the professor had a reputation of being what my mother would have called a "cad."
I was very much in love with this guy, in spite of the fact that he was sixteen years older than me and in the process of his third divorce. His mode of operation was to have one steady woman in his life and a few more on the side. He liked to tell people with his sly grin and a twinkle in his eye that "Many people thought incorrectly (wink-wink) that in the book 'Looking for Mr. Goodbar' the character of the cold, seducing college professor was based off of him." If you have read the book or seen the movie you know that this was nothing to be proud of.
I mention this old boy friend and his reputation because of another story that he loved to tell. It was about his mother, an operation, and her anesthesiologist. It goes something like this.
So, there my mother was, lying on the operation table when the anesthesiologist approached her asking;
"Is your name Sandra Fitzgerald?"
"Yes," she whispered, then he asked,
"Is your son Seth Fitzgerald?
"Yes" she said. Then he starts yelling at her saying,
"YOUR SON STOLE FROM ME THE ONLY WOMAN THAT I EVERY LOVED!!!, HE RUINED MY LIFE!!!" He then lowered his voice and as he put the mask over her face said, "Now count back from one hundred." my poor mother went under thinking that the doctor was going to kill her…HA! HA! HA!…

This was a funny story when you were sitting around a bar with friends, but I did not find it funny when I remembered it the day before I was scheduled for major surgery.
-
I was told that the anesthesiologist would call me the day before my surgery. I was looking forward to the call. I wanted to talk to him so I could get a feeling of the doctor. I have sharp instincts about people (except when I date them). History has shown that when I get a bad feel about someone I am usually right. I also wanted to discuss that fact that I am drug sensitive. I am not allergic to any drugs, but I seem to react to them differently than most people. If I am given a drug based on weight and height most of the time I end up being over medicated. I need one aspirin when other people need two. Also I can get drunk on two beers. I felt it was important to tell him/her that, so I was looking forward to the phone call.