God Works for Good (Romans 8:28)

I felt challenged before going into hospital to put a couple of prayer requests in for myself. Specifically, that I wouldn't get sick after the operation, and that I would have a private room. The odds seemed stacked against – the last three times I've had a general anaesthetic, I've been very sick afterwards, and the operation was being carried out on the NHS where private rooms are the exception rather than the norm.

The local hospital offers the best of three worlds – it incorporates a Military Hospital unit with military medical staff integrated into the NHS Foundation Trust operating alongside a newly built private wing. (When I attended for pre-op, the young doctor looked extremely trim and smart in her military uniform and had what amounted to a great 'bedside manner' – she came across as very competent, her communication skills achieved clarity without seeming patronising - speaking as to an equal).

Tuesday morning I rang the ward to check there was a bed for me, as per instructions. The nurse told me to come in and the bed manager would sort things out when I got there. Vic drove me down there for 7 am and we were startled to discover the day surgical unit waiting area was already packed to capacity. I suggested he shouldn't hang around waiting.

The anaesthetic was administered around noon and an hour or so later I was in recovery – absolutely no sickness! Blood pressure and temperature were low and I was shivering a lot – the recovery nurse brought along a special re-heating unit pumping warm air under a heat-retaining blanket which felt like pure luxury and soon had me warmed up. There was a temporary glitch in proceedings when they couldn't find my bed – it had been brought down from the ward ready for me to be transferred to from the trolley, but had gone missing. Ironically, it turned out to be in the recovery bay immediately next to mine, with another patient on. Transfer involved a third trolley, but finally I was in my bed and on my way up to the ward, and feeling great.

What a wonderful surprise to discover that my assigned room was in the private wing – a single room with a view and en-suite shower room. It seemed to me that whilst my body was on the operating table, my spirit was on sabbatical with God and he'd upgraded me to first class! The décor and furniture wouldn't have looked out of place in a top hotel – there was a TV/DVD, a self-operated electric bed so that I could sit myself up at the touch of a button, a notice board complete with dish of drawing pins, and a little dish in the en-suite supplying soap, shower gel, shampoo/conditioner and shower cap. A nurse came and offered a drink – and brought me a pot of coffee and packets of biscuits attractively presented. The food was first-rate, too, served on a tray with a paper doily. A nurse explained that the NHS was buying the use of 6 beds in the private unit to enable surgeons to catch up with their lists after the bank holiday.

The atmosphere was pleasantly calm and conducive to relaxation and recuperation. What amazing answers to prayer. Additionally, I haven't felt a need for the painkillers offered, to the surprise of the doctor, and I'm pleased to report the wound looks small and tidy with no detectable loss of contour.