God is love…

I must be overly sensitive. Less than two weeks ago, I had cataract surgery. When the doc scraped out the old lenses on the outsides of my eyes with a laser, it left scar tissue. And, now I have crescent-moon-shaped obstructions on the periphery of both eyes. He tells me they will probably go away in about 8 weeks. But still. Not everyone gets it. He says it’s a phenomena of over-sensitivity.

Yesterday was election day, November 3, 2020. My day consisted of noon Mass at Saint Augustine Catholic Church and Student Center, adoration right after and a Radiology visit at Shands Hospital, for an MRI brain scan. My surgeon wanted to check for tumors in my inner ears. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.

During adoration, however, I was able to go deep into prayer, which for-the-most-part has been hard to come by, in these recent past few months. I prayed for my sisters and brothers all over the world and for the salvation of sinners. I prayed for myself and felt a deep soulful sadness for my past sins. And, I cried. It was getting close to my appointment time. So, I gathered my thoughts and left.

When I got to the Radiology Department, I was met by a young, female tech. She took me back, and this is what happened: First, two young, sweet female techs stripped me of all my clothes, shoes, hearing aids and jewelry, right down to my scapular medal. They put an I-V into my vein to inject dye while being scanned. They said it would go in, at about the halfway point. And, yes I felt it, in my arm and in my neck. And, yes. In the end, I was dizzy when they tried to help me up, thanks to the I-V shot-full-of-dye into my brain.

They asked if I had any last words. lol. I said, “Well, it’s election day, so I’ll always remember it.” Then, they placed me on a tiny, hard, fiberglass bed with a hard plastic box for my head. They handed me foam earplugs and fitted me with earphones. (You know … the kind singers use when recording songs in a studio). Picture my head inside a hard plastic box with these huge earphones on. It was an extremely tight fit. I had to keep getting up to reposition them to alleviate the painful pressure on my ears. It didn’t work. And, since it never did, I just went with it. I couldn’t fathom staying there a minute longer than necessary.

Next, they put cloth over my eyes and fitted me with what-they-called a helmet. It was really a hard, plastic face-mask that went from the top of my scull to below my chin. And, it was less than a half-inch from my face. I was now fully imprisoned and unable to move. They slid me into the magnetic resonance machine and told me it would take about 30 minutes. THIRTY MINUTES! It’s a good thing this wasn’t “my first rodeo.” I would never have survived. But, survive I did. They had music on, and they tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear a word. I couldn’t move and thank you, Jesus that I couldn’t see a thing because I’m sure claustrophobia would have kicked in.

So, I chose to talk to God. “Father,” I said. “You have my full attention. Please let me know your will? Your servant is listening?” Immediately, I heard in that tiny voice in my head, the words, “I love you.” Tears streamed down the sides of my face. Yes, I cried. My heart was full, and formed, and painfully joyful and sad all at the same time. God is my confidante, my hero, my Lord and savior, even during times of distress.

Thanks be to God!

Added Note: On Thanksgiving day, November 26th, a friend, a mentor of mine made me realize — after sharing this story with her — that God had a full part in calming me down with his loving words of wisdom. I was on the verge of an anxiety attack when He told me he loved me, and from that point on, I was still and calm and safe. When I came out of the MRI, the technicians said I was very still for the full half hour. I never realized it was because of the grace of God that this happened, until my friend informed me of it. Thanks be to God!!!