There are those moments when someone starts hurting and you don't 
know whether to be sympathizing with or strong for them.   Be brave 
or be human.   Be optimistic or frank.
I'm laying on the floor in the dark OR room where Ansley is now 
sleeping on the gurney after Dr. Bond cut out her angry, angry, angry 
appendix.  Kristen and I are getting ready to sleep here next to the 
drain for the night.  Ansley's breathing is saying, "whew. ah. I made 
it through surgery in Chad with the lights coming on and off  because 
of lack of electricity and this crazy reality being worse than the 
dreams I was having under ghetto Ketamine and spinal anesthesia."  Exhale.
	Somehow, Ansley has this way of getting herself to believe she is 
not sick and setting the pain aside.   For example:  We were 
horseback riding, galloping, and swimming in the Chadian river only 
24 hours before the knife cut out the problem from her right lower 
abdomen.  We are all so grateful that things happened like they 
did:   Ansley feeling pain in the right place.   Bouts of nausea in 
the middle of the night.  Leukocyte count elevated to 16,000 (high 
end normal is 10,000).  All of these things pushed Dr. Bond to do the 
surgery.  She couldn't have waited much longer.   It was one BAD 
piece of inner organ.
	Before Ansley went into surgery she said she was just scared of 
hurting during the surgery.  She asked for us please to not let her 
hurt.  We see the anesthesia not working all that well all of the 
time here in Chad.   The doctor takes the knife to the skin and the 
patient jumps because they are still a bit connected to their 
senses.  Then they have to give a little more of something.  After 
seeing this, and then knowing that you'd be in the same place, it's 
hard to get your mind to feel peace going into surgery.   Once you 
are under a little bit, it's not like you can say, "Excuse me, that 
scalpel hurts....I am still feeling....and I am going to need 50 more 
mg of Ketamine...IV push please."  No.  She was going to be the 
patient.   I know she was really scared.
	Nearing the end of the surgery, with her organs still being pushed 
back in through the little incision, Ansley started wincing and 
crying/moaning a bit.   It could have been just the effects of the 
Ketamine.  But none the less, it's real hard to see your friend in 
pain and not be able to change it.  Especially when she asked you to 
make sure she didn't hurt.   She would move her fingers motioning for 
us to take her hands and then when we did she'd squeeze 
them.  Fortunately, Ansley says she doesn't remember hurting during 
the surgery.  She does however remember her spinal anesthesia.   She 
is brave. brave. brave. What a tough girl.
	She'll recover really well.   Like I said, thanks to Dr. Bond, her 
incision is really small and the surgery was really smoothly.   She's 
getting fluid IV right now (the dreaded IV!   She hates them!) and 
will sleep the next few days a fair amount.  Keep praying for a 
courageous spirit to be put inside of her.  We love Ansley here.  We 
need her back in full.  Love Emily
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
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1 comment:
Emily, I've just read your posts about Christmas and about talking at night and about Ansley. Thank you so much for being her friend.
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