Katy McKenna Raymond  
Personal blog of christian writer Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri


Katy is represented by
Greg Johnson at
WordServe Literary

Read more Katy at
LateBoomer.net

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But What If It Is Brain Surgery?

In the comments under my post Reader’s Choice, my long-time reader Joshua has requested that I write about a time my faith was tested. And while I’ll soon be writing about my most embarassing moment, I think I’ll tackle this subject first.

A test of faith, I’d like to say up front, is designed to be passed. God actually sets up the test so we, His students, have every advantage. He hands out the syllabus well in advance of the course beginning, so we have time to skim through the text and get to know His personality as an Instructor before the first lecture is scheduled.

He administers frequent pop quizzes. We learn He means business when He says to pay attention in class because we’re accountable to recall anything He says, does, or jokes about doing. At first, the pop quizzes are murder because they’re unexpected, but after a while, they become well-anticipated and much less frightening.

The Big Tests, though—even though they typically come with startling, almost predictable regularity—are always scary. Even if you’ve aced the pop quizzes.

And even though a non-believer might scoff and say, “Whatever. A test of faith isn’t brain surgery…”, the real truth is that sometimes it is brain surgery.

Eight years ago this month, that’s what the test boiled down to for me. Brain surgery.

If you’ve never had brain surgery, you may wonder what it feels like to get a call from your doctor, who’s ordered an MRI because you’re dizzy, and to hear him say this:

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have MS.”

Praise the Lord, right? Isn’t God faithful? Everything turned out to be fine, nothing to worry about. Now you can get on with your life, the perfect life God promised you in the Bible! That is what He promised—isn’t it?

“Great! Thanks for calling, Doc!”

“We do have an incidental finding, though…”

(Right about now, the doctor is supposed to ask, “Are you sitting down?” My doctor accidentally eliminated this step, not advised for those of you doctors or doctor wannabes contemplating effective phoneside manner.)

“Um…okay.”

“You have a brain tumor.”

What does it feel like to hear that news? It’s a casserole of emotions, not the least of which is fear for your life. You know that expression, “She came face-to-face with her own mortality”? I’ve never bought into it. I grew up with a hyper-consciousness of death and of the brevity and fragility of mortal life. I came face-to-face with mortality when I was two.

I think what’s scary is to come face-to-face with your own immortality. We all know we’re gonna die, right? No big surprise there. But when we come to believe than our souls are going to live forever, we’re faced with some serious questions. Like, for instance, where?

Eighteen long months passed between hearing the news that I had a brain tumor and my surgery date. The tumor was located on the acoustic nerve on the right side of my brain, and was unlikely to be cancerous. It was also quite small, and probably destined to slow growth, so a “wait and see” approach was adopted. As long as I could hear perfectly, we decided not to let anyone mess with my head.

At least, not physically. But let me assure you, my head got messed with every day. My general health was not good, and I feared that if I ever had to go under the knife, I would not survive. A tumor is like a ticking time bomb, folks. Even if you don’t imagine you have a long life expectancy, you figure it’s gonna catch up with you before you croak. You can think Happy Thoughts all you want, but you’ve got a FREAKIN’ brain tumor. Happy doesn’t cut it anymore.

My Ticking Time Bomb caught up with me in October of 1999. Home alone, I was working at my computer and talking aloud to myself, when all of a sudden I realized I could only hear myself out of one ear. When that happens, you hope to God you can hear His voice with only one ear, because you know you’re going to need His precise direction big time.

The tests—and The Test—continued. Surgery was scheduled for November 15, with the goal of removing the tumor while attempting to recover the hearing. (The tumor, which hadn’t grown, had pressed precipitously upon the hearing nerve, causing the complete loss of hearing in one fell swoop.)

No one was more surprised than I was to survive brain surgery. Sure, I was permanently deaf in one ear, and yeah, bizarre complications set in. Like my head swelling to twice its size, the whole right side of my face developing palsy for two months, and my right eye popping open and staying open with me sound asleep. (A bad look, that.)

But I lived. And that represented something like the Final Exam of the Semester for me. Because I knew I owed God a better Rest Of My Life than the one He would have gotten had He not pulled me through this experience.

My life has changed in so many ways since that day eight years ago. My head has shrunk to its previous size, and my body has shrunk by one-third. My eyes open and close in tandem, a relief to the man I’m sleeping with. There are plenty of negatives to report: I have a constant ringing in my deaf ear. My balance isn’t what it was. If I tried to stand in a pitch-black room, I’d keel. My spatial relationships aren’t too whippy, either, although my special relationships are better than ever. :)

Most importantly, though, I have a sense of God going with me everywhere—even into the Valley of the Shadow of Death—that I didn’t quite have until now. I have a sense of purpose that I can’t and won’t ignore.

Sometimes, it really is brain surgery, and for me that’s what it took to come face-to-face with my own immortality. From now on, every day matters. Because when the Teacher says to put our pencils down for the last time, all of Eternity awaits.

Posted by Katy on 11/06/07 at 12:40 PM
Fallible Comments...
  1. Okay, Katy, you actually had me laughing at a post about brain surgery! Brain surgery, can you believe it? It was the whole one eye popping open while you were asleep thing that got me.

    Thanks for sharing this. If you only knew the week I'm having. It's not brain surgery - not even anything to do with my health or the health of my family, but it has definitely challenged my faith. Thanks for encouraging me.
    Posted by Carrie K.  on  11/07/07  at  12:42 AM
  2. Thanks for this post. God is awesome, isn't He?
    Posted by Suzan  on  11/07/07  at  11:54 AM
  3. Wow! Your second paragraph says it all about our God – "A test of faith, I’d like to say up front, is designed to be passed. God actually sets up the test so we, His students, have every advantage. He hands out the syllabus well in advance of the course beginning, so we have time to skim through the text and get to know His personality as an Instructor before the first lecture is scheduled."

    Thank you so much for this awesome word of encouragement. God bless!
    Posted by joshua  on  11/08/07  at  08:58 AM
  4. So glad you have your website up...I've been reading discussion boards on other websites for those with brain tumors but you have to say you won't pray when you sign in...supposedly being delicate to the 2000+ members from all over the world...I think that is so sad. Glad you are well. My surgery will be in January. I know that ultimately He is the Great physician. I wrote alot of prose which is my therapy along with prayer and journaling. Thanks again for your sharing! God Bless you and yours.
    Posted by vandie  on  12/17/07  at  06:49 AM
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