Dad's Third Surgery
A True Story
In the evening of that same Sunday, my brothers Joe and Bob visited us together with their families. We had a terrific time exchanging banter in our newly renovated mansion. But towards the end of our interaction, my heart sank on hearing that Dad would be going for surgery the following week. And that would be his third surgery since last year.
First, it was his heart that had to be operated on. Then a few months later, it was his enlarged prostate that had to be reduced. And now, it was a nerve on his back that had to be rectified in order to alleviate the complications he developed two months ago. What a depressing piece of news for me to hear!
The depression set me praying. And my prayers were more of a lament. While I can't recall all that I prayed about, I think I complained to God why terrible things have been happening to my parents over the last four years.
Despite my fervent prayers, my depression didn't lift immediately. I retired to bed on that Sunday night still feeling down in the dumps. And when morning came, I was tempted to oversleep as it often happens to me when I am at a low ebb.
Fortunately, I didn't yield to the temptation. I sprang out of bed at 5:30 a.m. on Monday like I always do these days. And wow! My mood gradually improved as the morning wore on, all without my circumstances changing. I experienced the peace of God that surpasses all understanding.
Dad was driven to the hospital on Tuesday as scheduled. He underwent his surgery on Wednesday. Before the surgery, I kept on beseeching God to guide the surgeons so that they would work magic on Dad's body, making him come out of surgery in a better state of health.
At one time when I caught myself worrying about what could go wrong with Dad, I remembered these soothing words of Jesus: "Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me." (John 14:1) Those soothing words of Jesus rejuvenated me.
Sure enough, there was no need for me to be troubled. On Wednesday night, I beamed with happiness when I phoned Dad and he informed me that he was faring well after surgery. And when I asked him how long he would stay in the hospital, he apprised me that it was up to his doctors to decide.
Dad came back home from the hospital on Friday night. It was my eldest brother Joe Kagigite who brought him in his car. As Dad toddled into our mansion that night, he appeared weak and sickly. Our workers had to assist him walk steadily.
Just like my late Mum used to do, Dad has been calling me to run errands for him. I am finding it fulfilling to help him. After all he has done for me, especially educating me all the way to university, I feel being there for him is the best way I can repay him.
Last Saturday for instance, he requested me to give him the newspapers I had been buying when he was away in hospital. Glad to hear him speak with his usual strength and express interest in world affairs, I looked for the newspapers and handed them to him.
Dad and I are so close. We have grown to respect and understand one another. And we both share a passion for reading, though he doesn't read as avidly as I do.
Three weeks ago when my brother Paddy was about to hire a valet for Dad, I mentioned privately to Dad that the valet would also be cleaning my room and washing my clothes. He then questioned me whether the valet wouldn't think I am being boastful.
His question made me laugh. I guess that reveals how humble he is and how close we are, which is why I would hate to lose him any time soon. So as we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus this Easter, I wish Dad a quick recovery. Ciao!
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RECOMMENDATION: If you've enjoyed the above story on my Dad's third surgery, you might also enjoy another one on "Understanding Our Parents" which I wrote last year. Just click on that link in blue to dive straight into the story.
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