Who Dreads Surgery?

Who Dreads Surgery?

by an unknown author            Ireland               08.10.2023

(First published by MMM in 1961)

A short time ago I was admitted to hospital for an operation.  Was I worried?  For at least a week previous I sought the prayers of many dear friends.

The dreaded day came.  On arrival at the hospital, I was received with such kindness that I can truthfully say all fear left me.  I was completely relaxed.  The usual pre-operative examinations: “say 99” and “take a deep breath” and so forth were carried out calmly and quietly.  There were encouraging words from the Sisters: “You won’t mind it at all, I assure you.”  Finally, a dear Indian Sister came in to “settle me down” for the night.  Having made sure I was comfortable, she gave me a bright coloured capsule saying: “This will give you a good night’s sleep, dear.”  It sure did.   At 7.30 the next morning I was gently awakened but still beautifully drowsy.  The final touches for the general anaesthetic and operation were not what I expected.  I might have been going to the Royal Circle in my newly acquired theatre cap.

Yes, I began to realise that I was going somewhere.  Then a pretty, young nurse was at my bedside and said quietly: “I have an injection for you.  And then you will be off in a few minutes.”   “OFF?”, this struck a chord so clearly, I shall never forget it.   OFF where?   The injection over, I was OFF, or if you prefer “out for the count.”

There was a faint recollection of being lifted on to the theatre table (how I got there was a mystery – I know I could not have walked). Someone took my hand at one side; at the other side, I guessed it was the anaesthetist who sad gently: “that is a beautiful vein.”  I felt nothing except the reassuring touch of her hand.

Then for a split second I heard running taps – that was the doctor who said: “you will be all right.”  The eyelids were too heavy to lift, but I was sure it was he, in whose hands, after the Lord’s, I had put myself with such confidence.

“It’s all over. You are back in bed,” the little Sister bending over me said. “No?” was my emphatic reply.  Then in the twinkling of an eye, I saw her.  Yes, it was over, and I felt so happy.  “Thank God, “I said and I meant it from the bottom of my heart.  When I came to life afterwards (there was an afterwards) and there was no sickness as in the old days – just another injection for another wonderful night’s sleep.

Each day there was an improvement.  There were the doctor’s visits, eagerly awaited to confirm the success of his and the staff’s work.  God bless them.  There were further injections and stitches to be removed, of course.  But these are almost painless nowadays and nothing to worry about.