One Month from Dying

I know this is my first blog post in a while and the reason its took me so long to write is that I have been having trouble wrapping my head around the magnitude of what I have gone through since my operation five months ago. Your first thoughts when you are lying in the hospital is to focus on the present, i.e. what do I need to do physically and mentally to get out of the hospital and get home. Yes, my surgeon told me several times that if we had waited to have the operation, then within a month my intestine's would have burst and I would most likely be gone.

I understood the words that he said but I was so focused on getting better and doing everything possible to heal the huge wound in my abdomen that I went home with. Now, as months have gone on and the wound has healed as best as it will, these thoughts have crept into my head. For one, I have a scar on my stomach with two staples sticking out to remind me of what happened and what could have been. For gods sake, my bell button is several inches to the right of where it should be!! I am not ready to go but I almost went! Even though I have had several operations before, at 46, this is the first time I felt mortal and old.

My wife tells me that she loves me and that I need to be happy that I am still here. After all, I did promise to hang out with her for the rest of our lives, which we plan to last until we are late into our nineties. Over the last few weeks, I have found myself having a new found admiration for my parents, especially my Dad and the great person that he is. Memories of my childhood keep randomly popping into my brain. I haven't given my Dad enough credit for how he has been a great influence in my life. I have written a lot about it in my previous blogs about how I value the time with all my children and that hasn't changed.. I don't want to let them go and I don't think they even realize that they almost lost their Dad. Most of all, loosing my wife Holly would be a cruel twist of fate as we are only a few years into our journey together. There is still so much we want to do and see together. That could have been taken away but it wasn't and I need to learn to realize that.

I will forever have to live with the physical pain and being deformed, but that does not define me as a person. It's natural to be spooked for a bit, but the happiness and love that Holly and our children give me is so much worth living for.