On Monday morning we packed a bag of toys, a water bottle and a grocery
shopping list, and headed to the office of a local doctor. For the past five+ years there have been four
lumps growing on my scalp, and they had finally become big enough as to need
removal. The doctor had told me it would
be an easy surgery under local anesthetic, and I could walk myself home
afterwards. I decided I’d bring the
family anyway, but we planned to do the grocery shopping on the way home so as
to make “good use” of the walk to town.
We arrived at the office on-time and were told that the doctor would not
be there for another half an hour. Of
course. How silly of us.
When everything was finally ready and I was ushered into the room they
told me that Dave couldn’t come in with me.
He had to stay in the waiting room where a nurse had turned on an
episode of “Paw Patrol” for Z to watch.
No big deal. I put in my earbuds
and relaxed in the chair. Cool as a
cucumber.
“You’ve given birth without drugs,” I told myself, “You’ve totally got
this. You are superwoman.”
And then, he poked me with the first needle of anesthetic.
It hurt about 50x more than I expected it to, and instantly I felt
woozy. My vision started to blacken and
I knew I was close to passing out... I started panicking. What was the word for “to faint” in
Spanish? I couldn’t remember it! I was already passing out when I said, in
English, “I’m going to faint”.
The last thing I remember is the doctor saying, “Que manda?”. (“What did
you say?” )
When I regained consciousness, the nurse was ushering Dave into the room
and he sat in a chair in front of me, holding my hand and talking to me in
English. We talked about everything—except
the tugging sensation in my head as the doctor removed the mass from my
skin. He had to add anesthetic for each
lump, and each time I almost passed out again.
The last lump was the smallest, but it gave the doctor the most
trouble. He had me lay down on the
table, which was good because if he hadn’t, I surely would have lost consciousness
again. He worked for at least fifteen
minutes trying to dig the lump out of my skin.
The nurse seemed confused by what she was supposed to be doing and kept
leaving the room.
At one point the doctor made a mistake and said, “Uh-oh, disculpe!” (Uh-oh, my bad)
Dave and I almost started laughing.
Two words you never want to hear a doctor say when he’s operating on
your head: Uh-oh.
In the end though, he stitched me up and we were sent home. The shopping trip was forgotten as I stumbled
through the streets and finally made it home.
Dave brought the computer in the bedroom so I could watch movies all
afternoon and even made me a lasagne for dinner (my favorite!).
It’s been a long, somewhat difficult recovery week, but surprisingly the
feeling that I’m left with is thankfulness.
I was able to get the medical help I needed to remove painful lumps from
my head. Many people in Guatemala (and globally)
have to suffer through sickness without any way to get the medical intervention
they need. I am thankful to God for His
provision in not only health care, but also for giving me a kind husband to
walk with me every step of the way.
Oh, and I also learned to say “to faint”. Look at my vocabulary growing! J
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| Resting at home |
