Tea over Café

2022 was supposed to be my year. I was turning 40 in 2022 and 222 is my favorite number. I had a 2 story townhouse that I adore as my teen and I previously lived in a shoe box. My teen and I are finally thriving. This was it. My 30s were done with, I am closing that door and my 40s are going to change everything for the better. How do they say it, 40 and fabulous?

August 1st happened. August 1st was the day my new landlords decided they were not going to allow me to stay through no fault of my own due to “renovations”. My lease was not going to be renewed. So right before my 40th birthday I had to pack our bags and box our things, swallow my pride and move in with parents. God. Why?

December 22nd happened. A yeat ago today, I underwent a ‘routine hysterectomy”. After years of struggling and setbacks after setbacks it was finally happening. No more back pains, no more belly over my jeans, no more accidents. I finally found a doctor that listened. Turning 40 in 2022, 222 was going to end so wonderful for me. The setback of being evicted was the only hindrance I would face. I remember that day staring at a beautiful, turquoise shell like ceiling in the operating room and then closing my eyes. When I opened my eyes, I saw the eyes of a concerned nurse that had this look of how do I word this to my right and my stoic mother who looked defeated on my left. I then look down and see a catheter. The bain of my existence, a catheter. Dreaded catheter. The last time I had a catheter was during child birth and the experience scarred me. I asked “what happened”, “why do I have this”. In all my readings and videos and research no one informed me of a catheter? My mom let’s me know as she stares down, there was an accident. Accident I said to myself. The nurse then let’s me know that it would be best to have my mother leave as it’s after 3 and she has been here all day. 3pm I said to myself. My surgery was only supposed to be 2 hours and we got there at 500AM, surgery at 800am. I did everything right. I did what was asked of me. How? Why me? As they wheeled me up to the 3rd floor for recovery, I went limp. People’s voices become more and more distant. The nurses surrounded me but they were 1000 miles away. The doctor entered my room not too long after. He appeared as though he must have given himself a pep talk before he entered. He came in as confident as he could pretend to be and let me know what happened. During my surgery my uterus was larger and heavier then they imagined. The doctors and nurses weighed it in over 8 pounds. I literally had a baby removed but there was no baby unfortunately. Somehow during the procedure, my uretha was cut and it had to be reattached. A uretha I said. Do I need a uretha? Then he said the word kidney stent. Stent? What is that? He was talking and yet like the nurses, his voice seemed 1000 miles away. He said the urologist would be in to see me as well. Urologist? What is a urologist? The doctor then left the room and I laid there. Scared, stunned, alone. Yes people had spoke to me but I didn’t understand. God. Why? I’m not perfect but I am a faithful servant. I pray. I go to church. I do daily devotions. Dear God, Why?

5 days passed and I was discharged. My big foley bag became a leg bag. The urologist informed me that I would need it for 6 weeks to for the kidney stent. I became a shell of myself. Not only did I have the recovery of my hysterectomy, but I also had a catheter to deal with. I had to rely on my mother to bathe me. Her and my teen took turns emptying put my leg bag into the measuring cup and document my output. There were times when my leg bag was empty and I would immediately scream and cry. “Something is wrong” I screamed, “its not right” I cried. One night it was so bad that I screamed over and over, I dont wanna go back, I dont wanna go back. I wouldn’t talk to people as the words would be in my head but would not come out of my mouth without stuttering. I had no purpose in my eyes, I was just a burden. I couldn’t work, or drive. I was 40 and living with my parents. I had never understood taking one’s life until that moment in my life. I have always told myself all will be well, all will be well. How ignorant of me. Depression is real, defeat is real. I knew that before but did not KNOW that until then. I questioned whether God was real. A loving Father would not have allowed this. He must not love me anymore. My Dear God. Why?

6 weeks passed. 2022 became 2023. My MRI for my stent was positive, therefore my catheter could be removed. I sat on the table, and the urologist came in and told me what I had not listened to before due to shock in post op. After the removal of my 8 pounder , the doctor had closed me up. When he reviewed my abdomen area he noticed that uretha on my right side was cut. The urologist was called in and I was re-opened. He said he couldn’t reattach the ends back together so he had to lift my bladder and attach it what was connected to my kidney directly into my bladder. I sat in silence, I nodded and held the tears that were forming. The urologist then informed me that the kidney stent will take over once the catheter was removed. His words were it will be “uncomfortable” using the bathroom for some time but it won’t last he said. I took his words and smiled. Relief is coming, finally. Relief lasted about 3 hours. Uncomfortable is not the word I would use to describe having a kidney stent. Tight jeans are uncomfortable. Eating cheetos while being lactose intolerant is uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is a lizard while the pain of a kidney stent is Godzilla. My Dearest God. Why?

My procedure was a success. My uretha took to its new spot in my bladder. I was to have a follow up but the urologist was not concerned and he was correct, the follow up was a success. Physically I was finally on the road to recovery….I couldn’t say the same for mentally or spiritually. Turning 40 had changed my life but not in the way I had expected. We all want closed doors in order for a better door to open. We don’t expect a door to close for only for another to open that comes with pain and disappointment. Some doors are easy and light I have learned. Other doors are made of steel and opening them hurts as they take force, patience, strength and trust. Over time my Why God question has become Why not. God has never stopped loving me. And He never will. There is nothing I can do that won’t stop His will from being done in my life. I didn’t realize that before as I treated God and our relationship as a transaction. I did this so therfore I get this in return. I went to church and Bible study so I’ve earned my tokens for the week. I didn’t have sex or drink heavily, therefore I should be getting this. How wrong of me it was to think that way. My Dearest God, I’m sorry.

Mentally, I’m still on the mend. As of today I am 8 months from my last procedure. I occasionally have flash backs and will cry from time to time. And I’m okay with that. A guy I dated, called me Spock as rarely did I show or share emotions. I’m not completely Kirk but I am more vulnerable with my feelings and thoughts. Am I where I should be, possibly or possibly not. Time will tell, day by day, moment by moment. Spiritually I am in a better place with my walk with God. And let me emphasize its a walk with God. There are times when the pavement is smooth. There are times when the pavement is uneven. There are times when the pavement is not there as the sidewalk is closed. I understand now that I have no control of what will happen 10 minutes from now, let alone 10 years. I understand now that it rains on all of us. We may understand why He allowed a mountain, and we also may never know. In grief and in glory, still great is His faithfulness as the song goes. His faithfulness may not be what we desire or want but its for the greater good. My Dearest God, Thank You.

~ST