ANGELS IN THE O.R.

Tomorrow is the third anniversary of my mastectomy/reconstruction, which was the first step on the long and winding road to hell and back. Even though I was a veteran of 7 previous surgeries, this marathon traumatized me so much that I had to develop a strategy for enduring the remaining reconstructions. Using every weapon I had, including EMDR, prayer and guided meditation, I imagined the next procedure ahead of time--the way athletes will picture themselves doing a winning performance. And here is what happened:

I pictured myself in the holding area, my husband praying comfort and strength over me. We finalized details with the anesthesiologist, then moved to the OR, with me perched up on my elbows looking around the room, taking in every detail.

Then I thought, "I might as well go to the recovery room now, since I'm going under."
Suddenly an angel was hovering inches over me, head to toe, with massive wings spread over the OR.

He said, "Ahem" as though clearing his throat in a stage whisper. I lay awestruck with wonder and surprise at His appearing. Then an angel stood behind me against the wall, with his wings outspread, encircling the entire room.

My surgeon's eyes opened wide and I heard, "Look and be amazed!"

And so on the day of surgery my husband sent me into the OR with the picture of the angel hovering over me in our minds.

A year later I met a young woman who was facing bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction, and unbidden she told me her story of how an angel appeared over her as she prayed about her surgery. 

Makes me wonder if there is something to this God thing.

A friend wrote this poem for me to commemorate the end
of my healing journey. She gave it to me on the anniversary
of my mastectomies with a scalpel, and told me that when the
time was right I could throw the scalpel away.  That day was
yesterday, and here is what she wrote.

Feathers

For ties that bind
and ties that cut
and ties that lay us down

For knives that cut
and knives that bend
and do not look around

The knives and ties
that cut your heart
while healing that above

They do not see
what’s clearly there
the feathers of The Dove

The Dove sees them
with their intent
to heal what is above

Not ever seeing
what’s beneath
those feathers of The Dove

Feathers soft
that stroke you now
you cannot feel above

Yet feel
those feathers underneath 
in your heart where lies The Dove

Good bye to knives
goodbye to ties
The Dove can now fly on

For what is above
is finally healed
and now The Dove says, “DONE”