I am unexpectedly at home tonight after David's successful surgery. The surgeon reported that he saw no visual evidence of spread of the cancer and thus had to take only what we had expected. David is staying in the recovery room overnight as a precaution, but it is not anything to be worried about. He is comfortable and relieved.
The last 36 hours have been frustrating, tedious, tender, anxious...the roller coaster ride you'd expect. A doctor required another, and long, test of him, so we lost half of "the last day" before surgery. We simply had to do what needed to be done whether we wanted to or not, so we did. We then went to a club David belongs to and enjoyed the peacefulness of the fishponds, the wind in the air and the redwing blackbirds. Afterward we came home and had a steak dinner (likely the last one of those!), and prepared for today.
Both of us were overwhelmed at times, I think, by the worries, fears, dreads, doubts that come upon us as we approach major surgery. Yet neither of us wanted to speak of them to the other: will this be our last meal together? our last tender moments? our last view of our home and garden? So achingly vulnerable...
On this side of the surgery, I can say that there is something about holding the fear in tension with the hope that is deeply and tenderly sweet. In yet more profound ways than ever before, we know our love for one another and cling to it as winsomely as we can.
And yes, there are clumsy moments when one or the other gives voice to a feeling that the other prefers to live in denial of, when one of us (mostly me) weeps beyond the comfort level of the other, when attempts to assuage the other's fear seem saccharine. But in the grace of our love, one of us makes a little face at the other and the clumsy becomes a moment of humor...
So tonight I give thanks for all the skill of excellent doctors, nurses and technicians, for early detection, for that Love that surpasses and sustains our own. And I pray for negative pathology reports, for David's recovery to be good and strong, for our shared ability to learn a new way of life that will now be required.
And I head to bed for a good night's rest...the first in what seems like weeks and weeks...then back to the hospital for the weekend.
