There’s Never Been an Emergency Meeting in Heaven

Heaven doesn’t have emergency meetings.

Calling All Floor Pacers

I glanced at the clock in the hospital’s surgical waiting room. My heart was racing faster than the second hand ticking away the time. My five-year-old daughter was having a cyst removed from her leg.

The procedure was scheduled at the hospital after a failed attempt in the surgeon’s medical office. What were they thinking? A young child was going to lay on her stomach while they numbed and performed the incision, removal, and stitching? Really?

We could hear her crying and screaming down the hallway. The doctor advised we were moving to plan B—under anesthesia at the hospital. “She’s not going to cooperate for us to do it here at our offices.”

Well doc, I could have told you that. Yet, I didn’t want deep sedation either. I’d wished there was another option. But the cyst had grown and spread into her calf’s muscle tissue. It would be tested for cancer. I was worried.

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