Another of my status emails from the hospital.  Earlier ones here, here, and here.

This applies.

41 And Elijah said to Ahab, “Go, eat and drink, for there is the sound of a heavy rain.” 42 So Ahab went off to eat and drink, but Elijah climbed to the top of Carmel, bent down to the ground and put his face between his knees.

43 “Go and look toward the sea,” he told his servant. And he went up and looked.

“There is nothing there,” he said.

Seven times Elijah said, “Go back.”

44 The seventh time the servant reported, “A cloud as small as a man’s hand is rising from the sea.”

So Elijah said, “Go and tell Ahab, ‘Hitch up your chariot and go down before the rain stops you.’”

45 Meanwhile, the sky grew black with clouds, the wind rose, a heavy rain started falling and Ahab rode off to Jezreel.

It’s early Saturday afternoon, and I am most likely going home today. It was close, though.

The test for going home is to produce output from input. IF eat food AND produce output THEN go home. Simples.

And I had the first part of that IF clause covered. Friday night I ate the tilapia the kitchen provided, and got a little wise about second dinner. I went with a turkey sandwich instead of pizza. Tried for chicken salad, but got shot down – there may be celery chopped up in theirs. I added cheese and mayo to the turkey, but they told me up front I couldn’t have lettuce, tomato, onion, or pickles. I still enjoyed that sandwich, because I had ordered it all by myself.

A few hours later I was rubbing my belly instead of patting myself on the back. I hurt inside, about where the ostomy bag had been attached. About where the surgeon removed eight inches of my small intestine Tuesday afternoon. Oh, didn’t I mention that before? It’s because I didn’t know it. Apparently I was told on Tuesday, but it had disappeared into the fog of anesthesia (which can be a blessing). I only found out late Thursday. And Friday evening I am wanting to do things my way, and it hurts all night.

Saturday morning, and still no movement, so to speak. My surgeon comes in, very happy with how things look and sound, tells me not to worry. He will keep me in through lunch, make sure the meals stay down, and probably send me home. At least I get to order breakfast.

No, I don’t. While he is still talking, room service brings in auto-breakfast. Peaches? Scrambled eggs, fine, but no ketchup?? I’m unhappy. And I eat almost everything they brought. I believe that you reap what you sow, and I didn’t want to sow more painful “Steve gets his way” seeds.

Then about an hour later, the first hint of a cloud appeared (this is metaphorical). Kept getting closer and closer. Just like Ahab, I made preparations before the storm hit. When the floodgates opened, I was ready.

I showered afterwards, happy that my gut’s timing matched what I wanted. And I ordered my own lunch, preempting whatever they had planned.

Staying in here longer doesn’t bother me. We had an ice storm last night, and this gives them time to get the roads clear. Not sure about the driveway, but that’s a different story.

No doctor has come to see me this afternoon, so I don’t know when I will get out. And barring complications, I plan to go to church tomorrow. Praising God not just for what He has done for me this week, and not just for what He has done for me in eternity – I will praise Him because He is good, and worthy of my praise.