March 19th 2010 Column
It Takes a Miracle To Know a Miracle
By Bob Hughes
I suppose that in the big picture, this wasn’t really all that big of a deal. Like, it happens every day in our city, and probably in every city in the world. Then, again, it was the biggest deal of them all, as far as I was concerned.
I figured it was a miracle.
I guess it all depends on how you define a miracle.
A miracle happens when you are thinking about the worst happening and in the blink of an eye the best happens.
Let me explain, and indulge me if this is a little self-serving.
A few months ago, before Christmas actually, my wife, The Realtor, The Broker, was getting over a cold. But she kept on coughing. Finally, I told her she was going to see our family doctor. He looked and listened, and told her to go get x-rays, right away. She did. They told her to get to the emergency ward at the hospital. She went.
After a few examinations from different doctors, it was determined that she had developed these pockets in her lung which cut down the capacity of the lung by at least a half. The danger was, they could rupture at any time. It also was possible that they would never rupture. But she would always have some difficulty breathing.
It wasn’t until one of her real estate clients, a doctor, told her to get surgery that we headed in that direction. We arranged a meeting with a surgeon at the General Hospital in Regina, and he was so thorough in his explanation of what the surgery would involve, we left without any questions. “Just do it.” We decided. He said it would happen within a week.
This is where the mind plays tricks. Surgery, no matter how simple it may seem, always carries the risk that something might go wrong, or that once the surgeon is in there he will find something else.
“Are you worried?” my wife asked me.
“No,” I said, “He’s a great surgeon with an impeccable reputation.” But I was worried.
We were heading towards our fifth wedding anniversary. And, we both remembered that right after we got married, I ended up in the same hospital to have heart bypass surgery. It is no fun. But, then again, neither is the alternative.
I knew from my own experiences that the nursing and overall medical staff at the General was as good as you will find anywhere. These people truly are caring, genuine in their desire to help those who need help, so devoted to their careers it is truly astounding.
But there was more to it than that. My wife, the Realtor, has a legion of wonderful friends who truly believe in her and support her. They were there for her throughout this. And, I know it gave her the kind of lift she needed as we sat together in the hospital waiting for her to be taken into surgery. A friend of mine, Gord Currie, a great high school and junior football coach, used to say that you were fortunate if you could count the number of true friends in life you have made on one hand. The Realtor would need more than one hand.
The day of the surgery came on Thursday. She admitted she was nervous. As I left the room, I stopped and looked back at her, and I had a lump in my throat because you just don’t know.
They said the surgery would take two hours, maybe more.
She went into the operating theatre at 12 noon. At one o’clock, the surgeon phoned me. He told me the operation had taken only half an hour, that it was a complete success, that she was not in much pain, and he was satisfied that what they intended to do had been done.
It is hard to explain that emotions that washed over me. I had to pull off to the side of the road for a few minutes.
But it made me realize, once again, how lucky we are to live where we live, where these kinds of miracles are readily available and how blessed we are to have such wonderful health care professionals within easy reach.
I thank them all. I thank Loretta’s friends for the boost they gave her. And, I thank God.