I have been in hospital since Thursday. Friday morning was my knee replacement surgery. On the evening before the operation, the doctor recommended spinal tap anesthesia which meant that I received an injection in my lower spine and was conscious the entire time of the surgery. I could hear and feel the impact of the hammering, sawing and so forth but there was no pain. It was too strange.
The first 72 hours after surgery were spent in complete Lalaland. I was a big, clumsy beetle on its back, literally unable to do anything at all. Pain, pain, pain. The ultimate surrender. Even taking a pee on a bedpan was a major achievement!
I am completely dependent on the generosity of the nurses, the physiotherapists and the doctors. Their care and unconditional availability have given me a whole new appreciation for their profession!
Yesterday morning I awoke with the vivid feeling of a strange, intense dream in which I tried to find Steve, searching for him everywhere. I cried. There is nothing anybody can do about that. He is no longer here.
As I lie here in bed vulnerable and helpless, I am thinking about others’ stories about their knee replacements. Honestly, after what I heard from them, I did not expect it to be this difficult! For sure nobody had told me about spinal tap! Maybe all these small experiences of pain and agony after surgery magically vanish once healing has taken place. The (very handsome) anesthesiologist told me that they give spinal tap patients a pill that prevents them from forming new memories. Fascinating!
I also have plenty of time to rethink this “short term pain for long term gain” thing. What if I died next week, would I regret having spent my last days in hospital, fixing my knee? In my mind, I am really going through this for some future that might never come. Or – it might come. Oh, what do I know?! I am simply surrendering to this new Now. In the hospital bed.
These entire past 18 months have been about letting go, surrendering, giving up control, moving into the unknown, pretty much alone, in a big way. Yesterday when the doctor removed the drainage tubes from my knee it was so painful, horrible and finally ENOUGH. I shouted and cursed loudly, very loudly. E-N-O-U-G-H already of this f%$^&@g s$%t!
Yet, I trust that I will emerge strong, clear, and healthy, and that I will get to fully enjoy life in addition to these wonderful opportunities to meditate 10,000 times a day, practice surrender and inspire others!
PS. Thank you for the many messages and emails wishing me the best. They were too many to reply to individually. I feel your love!
“The deeper you surrender to existence, life, nature, the more loving, the more understanding, the more insightful you become. […]
Surrender means to live the same way in life as a good swimmer swims in the river. Life is a river. Either you can fight or you can float; either you can push the river and try to go against the current or you can float with the river and go wherever the river leads you.
Surrender is not towards somebody; it is simply a way of life. A God is not needed to surrender to. There are religions which believe in God, there are religions which don’t believe in God, but all religions believe in surrender. So surrender is the real God. […]
What is surrender? Surrender means surrendering the ego, surrender means surrendering all that you know. Surrender means surrendering your knowledge, your mind, your intellect. Surrender is a suicide, a suicide of the past. ~Osho