I’m writing this while waiting for my surgery, which will start in less than two hours. Because it’s happening later in the afternoon and recovery will take a while, maybe until midnight, I’m hitting publish now so this post doesn’t spill into tomorrow.
Today’s the big one. A joint surgery with two specialists: a digestive surgeon to remove my appendix and an obstetrician-gynecologic oncologist to remove my myoma and my womb. A combined surgery is naturally going to take longer than a single one, and the risks are a little higher. So before anything happens, let me just say… in case I don’t make it through this well, I’m sorry.
I’ve also decided to stop answering the same questions over and over about what’s wrong, why I’m here, and what procedure I’m having. Not because I don’t appreciate the concern, but because everything is already written here. If people truly want to know, they can read.
And honestly, the reactions I get aren’t always helpful. Some people end up being more panicked than me, and I’m the one on the operating table. So what’s the point? Keep your worries, don’t pass them to me. If you can’t bring calm, at least bring prayer. That’s more useful.
Speaking of calm… I’ve learned a lot about it from my husband. One of the most stoic people I’ve ever known, long before either of us even knew what Stoicism was. Focus on what you can control, the rest is just noise.
During our DATE session at church last Sunday, our leader asked something that fit perfectly with our sermon theme this month: life purpose. What’s your calling? After the leader gave an example, I volunteered to answer first, because the moment the question was asked, my answer came instantly.
I said my calling is to be an ezer kenegdo: a helper suitable for my partner, as written in Genesis 2:18. I even made it as main theme for my thesis to get my master degree in theology. Many interpret ezer kenegdo as just “companion” or “assistant.” But in Hebrew and in context, it’s far richer and carries far more responsibility.
Ezer kenegdo means a life partner who is strong, equal, wise, and brave. Not just present, but actively engaged in the struggle, vision, and growth together. One role of an ezer kenegdo is to bring calm and strength in difficult times. To offer safety and hope so the other doesn’t give up.
This past year especially, my husband has faced many hardships. Some people have misunderstood the things he’s had to do, overlooking all the good he’s done and tried to resolve. Some of them keep throwing rocks to him no matter how hard he fights for THEIR rights. They only see what they want to see, while he keeps his eyes fixed on the finish line so THEY can enjoy the prize.
I can testify my husband is a deeply good man. Pure-hearted. Not once has he intended harm. And if there were mistakes along the way, they were never born of malice. Only the kind that sprout from human imperfection, or from being seen through a distorted lens.
One day, when we’ve made it through this tunnel and stepped into the light, I’ll write everything down. That’s why I titled this blog The Diary of a CEO’s Wife, inspired by Steven Bartlett’s The Diary of a CEO.
If I wake up from surgery today, that is. I am honored that I’ve been the ezer kenegdo of the purest-hearted man I love deeply. And if I wake up in another universe, I’d choose to be his ezer kenegdo again and again.
As Viktor Frankl wrote, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” So I’m walking into that operating room holding onto my purpose, my faith, and my peace. If you’ve read this far, take a moment to think about your own calling. Then, live it like you mean it.
Love,
Nuniek
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