I have never had general anaesthetic before. Pretty amazing given my age (47). But it’s true. I am scheduled for surgery on Friday and I’m nervous about it. Not nervous about the procedure, the surgeon has my complete faith and he knows what he’s doing. I’m not nervous about dying, because I’ve made my peace with God and am ready for whatever comes my way. I am nervous about the anaesthetic and my reaction to it.
I’ve been preparing this week by eating a bland diet. Drinking lots of water and herbal tea. Detoxing the processed crap from my diet. Breathing better. Getting things in order at the Church for Vestry. Asking a friend and Deacon to take the services for me so I don’t have to worry about presiding service less than 48 hours after surgery. I’m even staying overnight at a friend’s house for a couple of nights to make sure I have someone with me. Another friend is moving in to look after the dogs so they are cared for.
The massive anxiety I have been carrying was lessened significantly when I decided not to work on Sunday. I know it’s our annual meeting and that’s a really big deal, but so is my health. The work has been done to get everything ready; well, as ready as things can be for this meeting. We must remember to leave room for the Holy Spirit.
I will be spending some time at the Church this afternoon putting things away as the office is a pigsty right now, sorting things out, finding files, filing them, etc. And once that is done I will breathe a great sigh of relief. I have full trust in our Wardens that they will do a fantastic job of Vestry. I’d like to be there, but I don’t have to be there. Vestry happened before I came to my current parish and it will happen again when I’m no longer there.
I have done what makes me comfortable. I have organised as best I can. The rest I leave in capable hands. And it will be what it will be.