Recollections: Providence Hospital

IN WHICH OUR LADY OF THE BRAIN TUMOR WAKES AND DISCOVERS THAT SHE IS MUCH-LOVED

7 hours of brain surgery. In the waiting room: my husband, mother- and father-in-law, sister-in-law, my daughter, even my stake president. Then it was to ACC, Adult Critical Care (not my favorite place) and later, to my original room in the Neuro-unit. There were many gorgeous flower bouquets waiting for me there, cards, balloons, and even a giant goodies basket. A lovely detail: all my flowers seemed to match: bright purples, oranges, yellows. But maybe this was my altered state of mind. And of course, eventually there were well-wishers. I knew before I went in that I would have as many as 3 wards fasting for me, and it helped to know that. I have an amazing support system that continues on—and who read my blog—to you I pay verbal tribute.

Providence hospital is a Catholic institution. It has statues of Mary and the Crucifix placed throughout. At the beginning and end of each day, a prayer is said over the intercom. It is a good place, and I loved the prayers. Also, I spent a lot of time studying Catholic art while in college, and found those statues of Mary and the cross to be quite comforting. There is a medieval work called the Isenheim Altarpiece that shows a dreadful crucifix. It is the single most gruesome piece of religious artwork I know. Christ’s body is pocked, scarred, wasted, broken, bruised, diseased. It is absolutely abhorrent, but it was painted originally to remind the patients of Isenheim Hospital that Christ had already suffered all their afflictions, a message of hope, healing, and courage. Having now gone through a bit of my own Gethsemane, I appreciate more Isenheim’s message, and the faith it represents for the down-trodden, weary, and bleaguered.

I am not Catholic, but am LDS and very religious, so all the religious intonations were wonderful to me, and I believe, important for my speedy recovery.

Recollections: An Ordinary Morning

IN WHICH OUR LADY DOES THE DISHES AND CHECKS INTO THE NEURO-UNIT.


Friday morning dawned too early. I found my baby in poop-smeared jammies and crib. Bath-time and laundry first thing and then onto breakfast and tackling messy dishes. Oh exhaustion! Then it was time to go visit my new doctor. I did not pack a bag, but I should have. We went to meet with what I would soon find out was one of the best neuro-surgeons in the country, Dr. Estrada Bernard Jr. MD. It turns out that he lives here because he can spend more time with his family in Anchorage. One more blessing to add to the ever-growing tally. It all went so quickly! My PA-C Candace requested one of the best rooms for me, room 571. It had a large window looking out at a nice view. How strange to find myself suddenly there.

The next day was Saturday, a long day indeed, it being in my mind, only this: my last day before brain surgery. That night was long and sleepless. The song, “The Lord is My Shepherd” got me through the early morning hours. And yes, I was feeling dramatic when I applied the line “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death” to myself. It was not too long though before I did make the discovery that I felt “like a lamb being led to the slaughter” (Isaiah 53/Mosiah 14)Really, I did. I felt like I had no control whatsoever.