As my recent surgery came nearer last week, I reflected on how wonderful it was not to be worried.  My doctor assured me, that from him past experience with me, this would be a piece of cake—I would be walking within three days at which time I would be discharged.

I proceeded to make plans based on the information that I would surely be well enough to make an extensive signing trip through the months of June, part of July and part of August.  Then I would take my research trip to Tuscany in September.

The day I came out of surgery, I knew that I should have worried.  Things did not go as I had planned.  Anesthetic  and I do not mix well.  Besides the complications in that quarter, which required putting me on oxygen and a face mask, there was the fact that I had absolutely never experienced such pain.  I couldn’t foresee myself ever being discharged.

Then they mentioned a nursing home.  That totally freaked me out.  I pushed myself to overcome the pain no matter how difficult it was.  I ordered diapers!  I did my breathing exercises, coughing and sputtering from which only increased my pain.

Well.  I’m home.  But all signings for the summer will have to be postponed until September.  And who knows when I’ll be able to see lovely Tuscany?  I am now rethinking my writing schedule.  Except for a few scattered local signings and two big family committments, I have three months to begin or plan a new project.  How strange!  Being the goal-oreiented person that I am, I wonder if the Lord is trying to tell me something?  Like maybe let him do the scheduling?