deathbed repentance

Last Monday I had my gallbladder removed. I was in the hospital for twenty-six hours. During that very painful, yet contemplative era, I learned a few things about surgeries, hospital stays, and the meaning of life.

Among those epiphanies, I discovered that for me, abdominal surgeries are the worst. Sure, getting my tonsils out was a huge deal and I had to watch my intake of  popsicles and remember to whisper, but I can do nothing without pain after gallbladder surgery. Bending over, sitting down, sitting up, laying down, eating, talking, coughing, laughing (oh, the laughing), walking, and breathing get a whole new makeover with an added spoonful of agony.

I realized that I can live for 18 hours without food. This fact, which may help me in times of wilderness survival, was proven to me when I waited hours upon end to enter surgery. During these moments, I also learned that hospital gowns are sweaty and medical technology is amazing.

It pays to do family history. Then you'll know why, at age 24, you have gallbladder disease. It makes better sense after learning that my mom, several aunts, grandparents on both sides, and a few cousins have gone through this same thing. I've enjoyed comparing accounts of gallstones with my kin.

Lastly, I came to know that angels dwell in hospital hallways and the Spirit resides in recovery rooms. Hospitals are holy places, with miracles occurring each and every day. At any one moment, a new baby is born. A preemie is unplugged from machines. A burned, broken, or torn body part is replaced, bandaged, or healed. A questions is answered, an ailment cured, a lump removed. A second, third, or fourth chance at life is given. A mind is put at ease. A soul departs into heaven.

My one night there was excruciatingly painful, yet I felt comfort and heard words of strength in an empty room. "My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes." (D&C 121:7-8) At once, my labored breathing turned into hushed, deep breaths. The pain still lingered, but I knew I was not recovering alone.

Turns out that many times, our hardest trials become our greatest blessings. We are given a new outlook on life and a new opportunity to show Him what we're made of. Thank goodness we don't all have to wait until our deathbed to repent.

 "It is never too late to strengthen the foundation of faith. There is always time. With faith in the Savior, you can repent and plead for forgiveness. There is someone you can forgive. There is someone you can thank. There is someone you can serve and lift. You can do it wherever you are and however alone and deserted you may feel." -President Henry B. Eyring