Inside the Lump Was My Twin!

After being a family member of a patient who spent six months of her life in various hospitals, I found myself back at another hospital again the other day.

My dad (known far and wide as "Papa Dale") had a small bump on his belly that grew into a larger bump that pretty much took on a life of its own. Because it was right where his waistband hit, it was particularly uncomfortable. Finally, he got in to see a doctor on Monday and was immediately admitted into River Oaks Hospital to have it taken care of.

He had surgery yesterday. Full blown general anesthesia operating room under-the-knife surgery. Which is always a little disconcerting. I wanted to be there during the surgery--and let him know I was there. But when I arrived at the hospital, his room was empty. The sweet nurse (they are SO wonderful at River Oaks!) called down to surgery and reported that he was still in the "holding area." I asked that they please let him know I was there.  A few minutes later, after I got settled into the chair in his room with a book, the phone rang. It was a nurse from the surgery team, telling me they were getting ready to roll him into the OR, but if I hurried, I could come wish him well. Which I did. Whew.

For some reason, when I thought about that lump on his belly, I kept remembering the scene from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding." Andrea Martin's brilliant character, Aunt Voula, was meeting the oh-so-non-Greek Ian and his parents for the first time and relayed her very personal story:  "Now, you are family. Okay. All my life, I had a lump at the back of my neck, right here. Always, a lump. Then I started menopause and the lump got bigger from the "hormonees." It started to grow. So I go to the doctor, and he did the bio... the b... the... the bios... the... b... the 'bobopsy.' Inside the lump he found teeth and a spinal cord. Yes. Inside the lump was my twin." (If you haven't had a chance to see one of my all-time favorite movies, watch the trailer or better yet, put it in your Netflix queue right away!)

My mind works in mysterious ways.

Papa Dale will be in the hospital for a few days so he can continue getting intravenous antibiotics and so they can be sure the wound is healing OK. Until then, my sister, Sarah (who drove down from Nashville last night) and I will take turns taking care of my mother and visiting Daddy in the hospital. The good news is that gives me alot of time to make hats (I'm calling them "Sassy Hatz," and am primarily knitting baby and children's hats, so if you need a baby gift, let me know!!!).

I'm reminded once again how much I appreciate doctors, nurses and other medical professionals. It's not a glamorous job by any means, and what they do requires a load of compassion. We are so grateful they studied so long and hard and they take their jobs so seriously. Thanks to you all!

Blessings to all who read this!
Susan