Kristina Furey

Consideration and editing left me late this week

I really wanted to be careful to say what I have to say. An attempt at grace. I don't want to mislead anyone into believing that I am a sad or depressed person when I write or speak of sad things but sometimes, I find things sad and when I am sad, I take note and question what would make it better? I am exceptionally blessed and at times exceptionally challenged. Having an awareness of all the ways I am blessed, also keeps me aware, that when I am challenged, I am perhaps less challenged than others. So I do my best to try to create ease for those in need or at the very least, give them a voice or use my own voice to call attention to their needs. This is why I blog about matters that may seem personal. I'm not looking for sympathy and I'm not looking to throw shadows at people. I just want to shine a light on things worth our consideration. My hope being that the messages get to the people who can make positive changes to our "systems" and help create ease, for those in need. I am not one to hold grudges. I am one who believes that we should speak up when we see flaws in the system and we should help others when we have the ability to help others get their needs met. It is with that hope that I share the following...


Last week, I got there at 12:45 p.m.  I had been told to be there at 1 p.m.  I came in with a migraine that started around my right eye, at 11 a.m.  I waited.  I looked around, saw the others like me, who were also waiting. I wondered if they, like me, had not eaten all day and if they had been only on clear liquids the day before? At 2 p.m, I was getting hangry, hanxious and impatient as my migraine progressed. I reminded myself how fortunate I am to be someone that normally gets to eat whenever the urge hits. I reminded myself, I was a participant in this, unlike many people in the world who were truly starving and sick because of it. I reminded myself, I could leave if I wanted.


They finally called me back around 3pm. My husband was not allowed to come with me.  I really wanted him to stay with me until they wheeled me back for my procedures but I was grateful, to be out of the waiting room and getting prepped for my procedures. It was after 7pm, when my husband was called back into the post opp room and they told me, while my colon was clean of any concerns, they did have to take biopsies of my esophagus. I was on my way home by 7:26pm.


I've made a habit of observing myself in uncomfortable situations.  Some self talk that went through my head last week, went something like this,  “Oh my gosh this sucks!!! This is not right!  It should not be this way!  How could anybody allow this to be this way!?!  Everything has become so industrialized, just line them up and get them all done at once.  I felt like a number, a dollar sign, an object...  Meanwhile, I had flashbacks to each of my parents going through the whole cancer “curing process".  I remembered how anxious my mother was, trying to help my father navigate through the "system". I remembered how later, when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, her card that she needed to check into her appointments would only work sometimes and she kept asking for a replacement but they kept insisting she just wasn't using the card right. Yet they never helped her with it, to see what was really going on.  I did and it appeared to work haphazardly.  I wondered how they did it, watched her struggle without involving themselves in helping her find a solution.  Were they burnt out on helping or did they just reason that it wasn't in their job description.  It didn't seem reasonable to me and I tried to ask questions and expressed my concerns, hoping they might see what I saw and come up with solutions.

As I laid there alone in pre-opp, with the curtains closed around me, tears slipping down my cheeks, I recounted these things I had witnessed. I attempted to find peace with it and with my concerns. I was thankful, the migraine I had, was slightly alleviated with the IV and the ice, the nurse had kindly placed at the base of head.  I prayed that maybe the others, there waiting, might be protected from the concerns and suspicions I had, that more important than our well being, was perhaps the money each of us represented. I was too aware the doctor had over-scheduled the procedures that day. I had heard an ugly remark from one of the members of the surgical team, as I lay there in pre-opp, he came in and chewed out one of the nurses for sending back too many doubles in a row. I was fearful to be in the care of that one and hoped that while I was under anesthesia and at my most vulnerable, there would be someone with the best of intentions in the room watching over me and my fellow patients there. It occurred to me time and time again it was a choice and I was a participant. I hoped it was the right choice.

I tried to record an acapella version of one of my songs called "Vulnerable" I tried and tried but kept getting interrupted and then got hit with a lousy case of tree pollen. I decided to leave it unfinished since sometimes that's the way life leaves things. It seemed to be one of those things that life kept interrupting for some purpose, beyond me. Frustrating as that was I decided to embrace it and let it be. It's here. just look for the shower and click. I liked the ambience the shower provided.


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