Monday, March 1, 2010


I have a few questions for you....

1. How in the world did you manage to misspell Kelsey Keizer on your apartment lease? Isn't your name spelled the same in Czech as it is in English?

2. "Czech-ing In" was clever. That's not a question, but I wanted you to know that.

3. I'm pretty much out of questions at this point... so I'm going to forfeit the numbering system...

I want to tell you about what happened at my last doctor's appointment...because though the tram is not a hospital, I imagine there are several parallels you can draw. So, here goes:

I went in on Thursday around 2pm. I went back to the hospital room, I got undressed, garbed myself with their snazzy gown things (I'm curious how the word 'gown' ever became used for ball gowny type outfits and hospital gown thingos--they're so drastically different! Though, I can't imagine having a heart procedure in a ball gown...awkward.), and laid flat on the hospital bed.

The nurse putting my IV in tried 4 different times and failed in the one spot on my body that nurses never fail--I call that vein old faithful. I was super threatened by her inability to put the needle in...I kept thinking, "amateur." The other nurse ended up putting my IV in my wrist (ouch) and all was well.

Then they tried to sedate me for the procedure. After the first shot of the stuff they asked me how I felt. "Normal." A second shot. "Normal." A third shot...This time I told them I felt a little woozy, but I was still fully coherent. They said, "You're sedated, you just don't know it." I responded confidently, "I'm quite sure I'm still awake." Well, they decided I had had enough sedation stuff and were convinced I was sedated despite my pleas. So, I remained awake for the entire procedure.

Next I gargled lidocaine (a numbing medicine) so the back of my throat would go numb. Then they took this WD-40 bottle looking thing with a little red straw and sprayed the back of my throat with more of the numbing stuff. They kept poking the back of my throat to see if my gag reflexes were deactivated. After choking the first couple tries, I finally went numb.

Then they inserted the long black hose of a camera down my throat and I swallowed it. They can't force these thing down people's throats or it threatens the vocal chords, so a person has to swallow it (this is why they wouldn't give me more sedation stuff because they had to make sure I didn't completely pass out). Swallowed successfully. Finally! A small triumph!

I watched the guy feed the hose into my mouth. What a bizarre scene--I convinced myself it was an optical illusion, but it wasn't. It was just easier to pretend that it wasn't real than be okay with the horribly awkward reality that something was being forced into my body.

The procedure is supposed to take 15-20 minutes. They find the hole, get some pictures for the operation, and get out of there. There were two doctors looking at the live footage of my heart. They couldn't find the hole. They didn't believe it was gone, they figured they were just at a weird angle. They proceeded to adjust the camera until they had viewed my heart from 20 different angles (are there 20 angles to look at a heart?). They called more doctors in. One by one they all agreed the hole was gone.

The numbing medicine is meant to last 30 minutes. At about minute 40 my gag reflexes started to come back. I started gagging as my throat was doing its best to remove the hose. They held me down on the bed and kept asking me to relax. I shut my eyes and did my best to calm down, but my body started dry heaving (you have to fast for a long time before this procedure, for this very reason, so I had no food in me). My body lunged forward and I heard the doctors say, "Shut it down."

The guy feeding the hose into my body pulled the camera out as quickly as possible. They undid the contraption forcing my mouth open and held me up so I wouldn't choke. Finally. Air. Rest. Freedom.

My stomach hurt. My throat throbbed. My head ached. I was out of breath and I was trying to calm myself down. I asked the doctors what the verdict was, "We couldn't find the hole." I asked them what that meant, besides the obvious, "This is the definitive test and we currently have no evidence from which to operate."

Could it be? The sound of freedom? After such intense agony could I possibly have reason to smile? Of course I was excited, but it didn't seem right...the last three months of my life have been so confused, challenged, bomb shelled, etc. I couldn't quite believe that I was just given a "get out of jail free" card. No way. I'm still having a hard time believing it. Is it that I have a hard time believing that God is capable of miraculous healing? Is it that I doubt the "amateur" operations on Thursday? Why is it hard to believe that I might suddenly be off the hook? Suddenly things are easier? Suddenly I can go for a jog and not worry about my health? Maybe I can just be married, be a student, be a kid, be an explorer....or maybe the doctors were wrong? Maybe I'm about to get a phone call that says they reviewed the video tape (VHS to be exact) and found the hole...or maybe I am truly in the midst of a miracle--which am I expecting?

Or maybe the last three months of my life have been hard so I am equipped to enjoy the beauty of a miracle. Maybe God wanted to reveal his might, power, ability, and willingness to answer the cries of his people.

4. Are you willing to watch with awake eyes, heart and mind the heartache in the world?
5. Are you willing to agonize, ache, and choke on reality--even when you desperately want to pretend that what you're seeing and living isn't real?
6. Are you expecting miracles? Or are you expecting tireless efforts to no avail?

Know that you are being prayed for. Thought of. Missed. Loved. Cheered on.
Know that I am expecting
holes to be filled

So, Kelsey Keizer, or however it is spelled in Czech... my last question is this, When you pray on the tram, on the court, on the streets.....are you expecting a miracle?

I am.


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