5:30 AM
I laid my head against the window and felt the car engine vibrate through my entire body. It didn't matter if I closed my eyes, I'd never be able to go back to sleep now. Not that I wanted to. It had taken years of pain and years of prayer to get there. Every step made me wince, made me live vicariously, made me want to cry. I nursed my tea and sent up constant prayers for forty-five minutes. It was going to be a very long day.
9:56 AM
We sat together in the maze of seats, settled in and ready for the wait. Our pastor had come to pray, the anesthesiologist had come, and we'd had to leave. As the wheelchair had come out before we went in my dad had taken the crutch. "You won't be needing this anymore." Truth in six words, even though we didn't know it then. Somewhere in the labyrinth we'd all met with the doctor. Patients were never on his mind all weekend but this one had been, and he was ready for anything.
11:55 AM
Two hours in and the monitor couldn't tell us anything we didn't already know. We ate and we came back. Have you ever spent a whole day waiting on the edge of your seat, hoping for something good? It's like sprinting twenty-five yards in a pool with no air: an eternity of discomfort. Some friends had come to wait with us, but it was only comforting to a certain extent. The rest was faith.
12:53 PM
The doctor had finally come out to talk to us. No bone graft, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything went perfect even though the x-rays said it shouldn't have. The anesthesia was still wearing off, though, and we couldn't go back yet. We were still basking in relief, and a deep breath of fresh air.
7:47 PM
We were finally in a room, an actual hospital room. After waiting for hours we had finally been allowed back. The anesthesia had still had a groggy hold, but everything was okay. Then we got lost a couple times before we found that room at the top of the hospital. Seeing her awake was heaven. "Are you glad you did it?"....."Not yet."
It really was one of the longest days of my life, exactly one year ago, today. It was the day my mom got her hip replaced. She had wrestled with the thought of surgery from the moment her doctor told her she needed it. That was years ago, years of prayer and alternative medicine. Then, last year she decided it was time to be courageous. It's been a long road of recovery, but she stuck with it through the tiredness and the pain and the inconvenience. A year later and she's kayaking and gardening and working as hard as she can push herself.
My mom is a hippie, and I've never been more proud of her.
