The Date is Set

It’s official. My cysta is being taken out on June 6th. The day that I’ve only been able to think about hypothetically for the past year has finally become real. The plan is still to use a scope, which will only require a few small incisions. Except they may have to as the surgeon said, “open up your ribs a little.” Guess that's better than opening them a lot. Whether or not that happens will depend on what kind of adhesions I have from old surgeries, and they won’t know what those are like until I’m in surgery. The hospital stay will be a couple days, but that depends on how long it takes my chest tube to stop draining. Recovery will be 4-6 weeks, but how invasive the surgery is will make that time shorter or longer. Basically everything depends on something else, not much is known with any kind of certainty, and nothing will be determined until June 6th. 

All of those unknowns are starting to make me anxious. First off, because I’m not in control of anything. Then there’s anticipation since I’ve been waiting a while for the conclusion of my cysta saga. I’m fighting to remain confident knowing that God knows how this is all going to play out. He did plan everything, after all. But there is an intense battle going on between having that kind of faith and relying on myself instead. I want to have hope, but the first step in attaining that hope is enduring affliction. So I’m trying to be at rest knowing that if I seek His face throughout this, then His Presence and Glory will be shown. That is a concept that has only been words up until this point. Now that I have to live that out and suffer, I'm finding that my fight is just getting started.

Psalm 119:75-76

I know, Lord, that your edicts are just; though you afflict me, you are faithful. May your love comfort me in accord with your promise to your servant.