Lambs, Hips, and Green Pastures

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness^b

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,^c

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD

I was on a gurney being rolled into the operating room. Years of hip pain were now about to end as I was on my way in to get a total hip replacement. I knew it was too late to back out, but I was a little bit nervous. "Does anyone here know the 23rd psalm?" I asked. No one did. A nurse asked if I had written it down. She'd be glad to read it to me. "That's ok", I said. "I know it. I'll just say it to myself."

I'd been calming myself as the operation drew near by reciting that psalm. Usually, I'd just think it in my head but sometimes I'd say it aloud. The word of the Lord, after all, is a strong tower. Those who run into it will be saved.

I'd put a lot of thought into having this surgery. I live in a borough of New York City, Staten Island, famous for horrible medical care. I've heard it said many times that, if you are visiting someone in a Staten Island hospital and get sick, call an ambulance to take you to a Manhattan hospital. Following that advice, I'd had reconstructive back surgery some years back and I had that procedure done in a Manhattan Hospital. It was a total success.

That surgery had a great surgeon and a great hospital behind it. This one, with different insurance options, would be different. I am retired now and, with government changes to healthcare, my insurance coverage was greatly changed. I also mishandled the open enrollment options, this being the first year I had to deal with that. My health insurance plan gave me two choices. The first was to choose a surgeon I trusted and do the surgery on Staten Island. The other was a surgeon, recommended by someone I trusted but not known by me, who would perform the surgery in a better, Manhattan hospital.

I opted for the surgeon I trusted in a hospital I didn't. The results did not surprise me. The Staten Island hospital was a dungeon. Paint peeled from the walls, the lighting was poor, the room was tiny. Medical personnel, while examining my roommate, actually repeatedly bumped into me through the privacy curtain. The floor in my room was never mopped during my entire stay. I saw a nurse accidentally spill urine onto the floor and "clean" it by placing a gown over it and swishing that gown around with her foot. Even that, did not prompt a wet mop. My bedclothes were never changed, even though I had fevers and soaking sweats each day. There was dried, caked urine on the floor of the restroom and we used a commode shared with several other rooms. It came as no surprise that I had an unexplained infection while there.

On the other hand, my surgeon also was what I expected. The surgery was a fantastic success. I was sitting up in a chair the same day. I walked the day after. Because he used a more innovative approach, I had absolutely no hip precautions. From the beginning, I was allowed to do absolutely anything I thought I could. The surgeon visited me in my tiny room, answered all my questions and was as charming and attentive as anyone could reasonably expect. That type of care has continued now that I am in my post-op phase.

As I was finishing up this piece today, the responsorial psalm at daily Mass was, of course, the 23^rd psalm. I generally don’t link up to that kind of coincidence but, today I will. So, now I can say that not only did my surgery help me to walk without pain, it also taught me to walk in Scripture.