The Day I Waited Outside the Operation Theater: A Daughter’s Story of Prayer and Fear | by Glucose Meltdown | Aug, 2025

I sat outside the operation theater, anxious and restless. It had already been a couple of hours since the surgery began around 11 AM, yet no doctor had come out. I asked my elder sister if she could check inside and inquired with the staff about how long the operation might take. My father, exhausted, had dozed off while standing in the crowded hallway, and my grandmother quietly prayed, her worry etched on her face.

After some time, a cholecystectomy patient was brought out on a stretcher. She was unconscious, and the nurses carefully transferred her to the surgical ward. Hours passed, and by 2 PM, my father left to pick up my younger sister from school. That left just my elder sister, my grandmother, and me, waiting nervously outside the OT. Soon after, another patient was brought out. I instinctively thought it was my mother, but it wasn’t.

This all happened about 15 to 16 years ago. After the birth of my younger sister, my mother developed a paraumbilical hernia. At first, she didn’t notice it. Over the years, it gradually grew, but because it was painless, she ignored it. She only became aware of it during a family gathering, when a cousin, who had experienced a hernia previously, pointed it out.

Years went by. We were too young to notice much, but eventually, the hernia grew larger. My mother considered surgery. Each time she visited a doctor, she was advised to lose weight first. She tried, but often gave up after a few days. Though we never spoke about it, I silently prayed that when she finally underwent surgery, God would keep her safe and the operation successful.

Everything remained stable until April 2023. One night, during a family visit, my mother experienced multiple episodes of vomiting. She suffered from severe constipation, stomach pain, and repeated bouts of vomiting that seemed unstoppable. Initially, we attributed it to gastric issues.

After a few hours, her pain would subside, only to recur a week later with the same intensity. We lightly dismissed it, thinking it might be due to something she ate. A short while later, we traveled to another city for my studies, staying there for a month. Everything was normal during that time, but upon returning home, her symptoms returned.

We first took her to a small local clinic. The doctor administered injections for pain, constipation, and vomiting. Her symptoms would temporarily improve, but always returned within a few days. We began to suspect an underlying condition.

Initially, we considered an egg allergy, as my father also had one, but this did not help. A family friend suggested it might be her gallbladder. A gallbladder ultrasound, however, appeared normal.

Her condition worsened. Symptoms now occurred twice daily, sometimes even during the day. Each visit to the hospital brought only temporary relief.

Finally, my father took her to the largest hospital in town at midnight. The hospital was nearly empty. A female doctor on duty listened carefully as we explained the history and the repeated episodes. She asked questions about diabetes, hypertension, and asthma, all negative. My father mentioned the hernia, which she had carried for 14–15 years.

The doctor sent my mother for urgent X-rays, reviewed the results, and referred her to the OPD to meet a surgeon. In the meantime, she received injections for pain, vomiting, and constipation.

After a few days, the surgeon scheduled her surgery, initially for December. Meanwhile, her symptoms became daily, severe, and debilitating. She grew weak, and repeated visits to the ER became necessary.

Through persistent advocacy, we requested an earlier date. The surgeon finally rescheduled the surgery for 14th November.

On 14th November, Tuesday, after waiting for 5–6 hours, a nurse finally came out of the OT calling my father’s name. They brought my mother out on a stretcher and transferred her to the surgical ward. She was semi-conscious, in severe back pain, and had a mild fever. Her eyes were closed, but she was talking.

After seeing her, my younger sister, grandmother, and I went home, while my elder sister and father stayed behind. It was an intense, deeply worrying day, the most stressful I have ever experienced. Yet, God answered my prayers, as He always has.

After two days in the hospital, my mother returned home safely.

This experience taught me the profound importance of pain in life. My mother lived with a hernia for nearly 15 years, but surgery was only undertaken when pain became unavoidable. Pain is a signal, a warning that something must be addressed before it becomes worse.

I share this story as a reminder: if your loved ones develop a hernia or any persistent health issue, do not delay. Early intervention is critical. Visit a doctor before minor symptoms escalate into major complications.

May God protect our parents, our families, and everyone from pain and hardship. I cannot imagine a single day without them.