I was dropped off in front of the hospital with the same ease of being dropped off at the mall.  No visitors allowed due to Covid 19.   I profusely thanked my Soror driver,  strolled in the lobby,  got a temperature check, and found my way to the surgery medical desk.  I received the standard issued hospital wrist band with all my vitals and was told to have a seat.  I was just about to start me a new pity party, when I heard my name being called.  In my mind, the process was moving too fast.  Not only was I feeling abandoned ( No visitors allowed due to Covid 19), but I was feeling overwhelmed. I had just survived colon cancer surgery, November 18, 2020 and colon cancer surgery, February 19, 2019. Let’s not discuss the chemo.

I calmed myself down and followed the voice calling me to a corner office.  Oh, we are not going to surgery,  my inquiring mind asked. Ummmmm. Ms. Thomas, she said, the  balance due is $395.00.  I said I would need to reschedule.  Not so fast, girlfriend.  You are having this port surgery,  She asked me could I just pay something? Trapped!!  Okay, I gave her the bank card. Ugh.

In my curtain covered pre-surgery room, I undressed, listened to directions from a series of nurses, and put on the famous green back-out hospital gown. Then,  there was the issue of my rolling veins and not having anything placed on my right arm , after breast cancer and a mastectomy.  How is it I still had to respond to the same  series of questions that I just answered eight surgeries ago in the same hospital?  Annoyed!!!   Look at my chart!!!. Okay, I was wrong.

I watched the flurry of nurses move in and out of my space with precision, never tripping over each other in thought, word, or deed.  It was like we were in a maze or maybe, the matrix.  And then that guy came in.  You know, the one who brings the paper for you to sign that explains the possible causes of death, should you do the surgery?  You are asked to sign this document in order to indemnify the hospital for personal injury liability.  He leaves.  They leave.  The tears arrive.   No visitors allowed due to Covid 19.

They rolled me in the surgical room and I tried to make jokes.  My lip was quivering.  My heart was racing.  A nurse, who had earlier identified herself as a Soror, asked how I was doing.  I teared up.   She placed the oxygen on my nose.  People started coming in,  speaking in tongues.  They all moved with the precision of robots.  I am sure I was one of many surgeries this day.  Everyone had a part to play.  It occurred to me,  I,  too, was in the play.  The main character.  You are only as good as your supporting cast. Step it up, Georgianne.

If it were mechanical for them, why could it not be mechanical for me? They expected a certain outcome based on their collective experiences of riding this bike everyday.  What was I thinking?   I  had surgery experience.  Duh!! God was still with me.  Where was my faith?  It was cut and dry for them.  Today is Monday and I will be going to Whole Foods Friday.  Let me start my list. Oxygen flowing.