Jay D Weaver's Thought for the Week

Oh, My Aching Back!

Thank God for Nurses

I had major back surgery on June 6, 2001 at the Lancaster General Hospital and returned home two days later. I spent the weekend recovering from that surgery. I just didn't have the energy to write. The surgery was quite successful, and I was soon well on the road to recovery.

If you haven't had a hospital stay lately, let me clue you in. Things have really changed. First, I was supposed to have surgery at 10:45 AM. Because of delays, I didn't enter the operating room until 2:00 PM. I was back in my room about 5:00 PM. Guess what was waiting for me. That's right, a big dinner. There was roast beef, browned potatoes, and carrots. For dessert I had cake. I was hungry and I ate it all. I remember surgeries in the past when I couldn't keep solid food down for many hours. I guess modern anesthesia doesn't make you sick like the old ones did.

Now comes the fun part. My roommate also had back surgery that day. Do you remember what happened on June 6, 2001? Yes, we celebrated D-day, but that's not what I had in mind. That evening the Philadelphia Sixers and the Los Angeles Lakers played the first game of their championship series. We both stayed up and watched it to the bitter end. That was well after midnight, since the game went into overtime with the Sixers finishing on top. We were the only room that had the game on, so nurses were stopping in to watch the game with us. It was party time in room 757 that evening. Actually, it turned out to be a great way to take our minds off our sore backs.

The next day my roomie went home, and I had to stay an extra night because of a few minor complications. That night I was alone in my room and it was so quiet, I slept like a baby. That night it seemed a little more like a hospital stay.

I did attend church the following Sunday. After all, I can sit in church as well as at home. Because my vocal cords were scratched by the breathing tube, I couldn't sing tenor, or I probably would have sung with the choir. They did Haydn's "The Heavens are Telling," from the "Creation." I would have loved to help the tenors hit their high A, but it wasn't there. My voice returned quickly, so the next Sunday I sing with the choir when they did their last anthem for the season. It was good to be back into my usual routine. I was fortunate to have healed so quickly.

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