On Monday, May 11th, I had an operation on my right hand. The surgery is called ligament reconstruction and tendon interposition - LRTI. This particular surgery has been in use for more than 40 years and it is the most commonly performed surgery for thumb arthritis. Basically this is how it works. The damaged joint surfaces are removed and are replaced with a tissue that keeps the bone separated. A nearby tendon is detached at one end and passed through a hole drilled through the thumb’s metacarpal bone. The remaining tendon is rolled up like an anchovy and placed into the space where the bone was removed. I expect to be in the cast for at least 4 weeks and then will rehab after that.

I've had arthritis in both of my thumbs for the last 10 to 15 years. I'm at the point where I can't use a can opener, can't unscrew the lid off of a bottle, can't hold on to my golf clubs, can't grasp the weight bar with weights on it, can't knit - And so much more - So I knew it was time.

The journey to last Monday was a long one. More than 2 years ago, my doctor sent a requisition to a surgeon in London - and I've yet to hear from that Specialist.Waiting - waiting - waiting! Last fall a friend of mine told me that she had had the surgery in Kitchener and recommended her surgeon! My doctor sent a requisition to his office and after meeting him in February - he set up the first surgery for my right hand last week. The second surgery will be in July on my left hand.

Enough about the logistics. What I really want to write about today is the nerve block.

That was the craziest part of the surgery day. After I was settled in my room, the anesthetist arrived to administer the nerve block. She had me raise my right arm in front of me - bend my elbow - and proceeded to stick a needle under my arm. I was reminded several times that once the block took effect my arm would be dead weight. A short time later a nurse arrived and asked me how I was doing. I answered her with..” my arm is missing!” She assured me it was right by my side.

Interestingly enough, the brain remembers where your limb was before the block was administered. My arm was in front of my body and that's what my brain remembered.

I've been fascinated by this fact for the last 10 days - How our minds protect our hearts - how our minds block out the things that have hurt us - how we remember the good things.

Isaiah 61:7, 8 “ Instead of your pain - there shall be a double portion - instead of dishonour - they shall possess a double portion - they shall have everlasting joy. For I the Lord love justice. I hate robbery and wrong. I will faithfully give them their recompense, and I will make an everlasting Covenant with them.”

Through scriptures like this one in Isaiah, I’m reminded of God’s love and grace to bless me with a double portion of everlasting joy for the pain and grief that I have experienced in my life.

Five months after Randy died - I attended a woman's conference with my friend Blaire. We left Friday afternoon and headed up Highway 11 to the Huntsville area to spend the weekend with 200 women at a conference center. We checked into our room, enjoyed a delicious supper in the dining room and then found our seats in the auditorium for the evening session. When my heart is grieving, I often cry when music starts. Hymns and songs often trigger what I'm feeling deepest in my soul and that night was no different. The tears started and It was difficult to get them under control. I managed to stay in the room but when the speaker introduced her topic of marriage and husband/wife relationships, I was done in. I quietly slipped out the back and into the washroom. My friend Blaire followed me and she asked me what I wanted to do. I desperately just wanted to go home. My grief was too raw. My heart's pain was physical. Blaire packed my suitcase - packed me into the car and drove me home.

As I am typing the events of that Friday night, my heart doesn't remember the pain. I only remember the kindness and love of my friend. I only remember that she cared more about me than about attending the conference.

When Randy and I were first married and talked about having children, we both agreed that five would be a great number. Our sons were born in 1982, 1983 and 1984. When I went into labour with Zac in January of 1982, I anticipated flying through the labour and delivery. I was young and naive really. I did my makeup - I painted my nails - because I was going to be like the beautiful women on television who gave birth and then got up and ran a 5K. I was surprised that after 30 hours of labour, I needed a cesarean section. Consequently, Ben and Pete were both born by C-section as well. Back in the day when we were having our children, three sections were the maximum.

This grieved me at the time. I had my heart set on five children. I was 26 years old and the realization that my childbearing years were over was sobering. I felt robbed. I felt cheated. I was grateful for my three young sons but knew that Randy and I had lots of love to have more children. Having grown up in a family of 9 children - 3 didn’t seem enough.

But through the years God has given me opportunities to open my heart and home to countless young people…..one time when we were living in Cambridge, I arrived home one a very hot June afternoon to find Pete and his rugby team - including the coaches - in our pool - in the kitchen - in the rec room playing ping pong - eating anything and everything that wasn't nailed down. I was so thankful that our boys knew our home was a welcome place to come. At that very same house in Cambridge - the teens gathered every Sunday night - to watch a movie or to play board games. Every one of those Sunday nights, we would pop over to Little Caesars and order as many $5 pizzas as we needed to. Some nights it was five pizzas and some nights it was 15 pizzas. The teenagers would devour them.

The greatest blessing in my life besides raising my three sons are the girls they married. My mom always told me that one day I'd have daughters too. She was right. Once again, I've received a double portion.

“If in a quiet moment you get the chance to ruminate over an old wound or painful memory - OR - worship the God Who offers you a double portion and everlasting Joy - I hope you worship.”