Once I finally made it home from the hospital after surgery #2 I was hit with a whirlwind of emotions. The morning that they told me I was going home I was elated about the news. I recall getting dressed and being wheeled to the lobby, but before I left all the nurses came by my room to give me a hug and one thing they all said that stuck out was, “ I hope to never see you here again.” I had grown an attachment to these nurses over the past couple of weeks and although I was happy to be going home I knew that I would miss them and their genuine concern, prayers and the 24 hour care I received from them. I guess I didn’t know what to really expect because I had heard so many horror stories of how nurses treated patients and so on, but this was not my experience. I was really grateful for them and it truly made me appreciate my oncologist, OB/GYN, the nursing staff, (whom I have since visited), and even the hospital itself.
Once I stepped foot on the other side of the doors I appreciated the fresh air. Going through a traumatic experience changes something on the inside of you. For me, it was being thankful for all of the small things and taking focus off things that really didn’t matter. I read somewhere, “It made me slow down and realize the important things and not sweat the small stuff.” This was true for me as well. When you undergo the knife not once but twice, you honestly don’t know if you will make it out. whether you will wake from surgery, if you will wake with all of your organs, or at least the ones you thought you would, if your organs will function the same and certainly when and if you’ll be going home. So when I got up from the wheelchair and smelled the fresh air, I could have cried because, let’s be honest, the hospital is filled with an array of smells many of which are unpleasant. I could have cried because I was leaving a place that had become home, I was leaving a place that had become comfortable and all of those concerns I had, had been lifted. It hit me that I was going home and I was cancer free. I knew my story wasn’t over and there would still be many hills to climb, but this day was the first of many blessed days to come because, unlike some, I made it out.
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