You Never Know

When we returned Joel to Sister Kenny on Tuesday after a fairly successful, though overwhelming, trial run at home, his neck and throat hurt badly and they decided to keep him another day to give those muscles a chance to rest before another car trip.  Dr. O, the internal medicine doctor, informed us they would perform a "swallow evaluation" to figure out why he kept having trouble.  We visited friends to examine their accessible van and appreciated the chance to ready a few more things for Thursday's homecoming.  We continued to pray that if Joel wasn't ready to come home, the Lord would make that clear to the doctors and prevent it from happening.

On Wednesday, Joel called to tell us that they discovered a leak in his esophagus with a sac of infected fluid between it and the spine.  At about 9:30pm, he said he was scheduled to have surgery to take out the abscess - that night!  And he wouldn't be able to eat or drink for seven days while the esophagus healed itself.  I pressed the nurse to give my number to the surgeon so he could call me as soon as he was finished, and Joel and I agreed that I would come to be with him on Thursday.

At 4:30 am, Dr. D called and in a hearty voice informed me that the surgery was successful and that Dr G, the original neurosurgeon from HCMC, had come over and taken the plates and screws out of Joel's neck also.  "It's hard for infection to heal in the presence of hardware so we removed it."  Wow.

Thursday morning I called the nurse's station as I drove, and the Sister Kenny nurse explained, "Oh, he's not on our floor any more.  Just a minute, I'll get you his new room number."  What??  I called the ICU at Abbott Northwestern Heart Hospital, and his nurse, Molly reported that Joel was experiencing almost uncontrollable pain, probably from the hardware removal.   I asked how long he would be in the ICU, and whether he would return to Sister Kenny after that.  "Probably overnight, and no, up to the spine or neuro unit."  I started fretting about this and that, but had the presence of mind to turn on the Christian radio station.  As I sang praise songs, they helped soothe me and remind me of God's power and love.  Then a d.j. came on and told how he was praying for a motorcyclist in a coma at the hospital and received the inspiration to tell him who God was.  "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, Who was and is and is to come."  And the biker started jerking and the machines started beeping and the nurses came running and - he woke up!  I determined to remind Joel of who God is when I arrived.

Molly had the pain mostly under control with a morphine drip plus pump by the time I got there at 12:30pm; it was at a level 6 or 7 instead of 9 or 10 (on a scale of 1-10).  I held Joel's hands for an hour, then one hand for another hour while we listened to praise music on his iPod.   The pain had been "as bad as I've had ever in my life," but by the time I left at 7 pm, he felt fairly comfortable and much more at peace.  Remembering who the Lord is and how much He loves us solves some of our problems at the deepest level.

Dr. O stopped in and expressed his gratitude that the swallow evaluation caught the infection, and reiterated that this may have been the cause of numerous problems for Joel.  Dr. A agreed, and further explained how much easier it is to treat infections without metal nearby.  Apparently bacteria love to hide in the pits and grooves of titanium hardware.   Dr. O seemed to think that Joel could possibly return to Sister Kenny when he's a little stronger, to make sure he's still up to speed for coming home.

As I drove back home (thankful that I was on 35W South because 35W North was backed up for at least 3 miles), I reflected once more on the futility of worry.  I lacked something to give Joel when I started the day, but the Lord provided it through the radio station.  Wherever Joel goes after this, Jesus will walk with him, and with us.

The Children Grow Up

Today Michelle and Andrew sang a duet in church.  "Lord, I Need You" is a contemporary Christian song based on the old hymn "I Need Thee Every Hour" (I wonder if Michelle and Andrew know that).  Their voices soared in harmony and their sincerity increased the song's impact on all of us.  But the quality of their "performance" astounded me.  "I didn't know they were that good!!" I thought as I listened to the blend, the tone, the pitch, and their musicality.

This sort of thing keeps happening to us as the children grow up.  Whether Michelle chatters away in Spanish on the phone to her friends in Mexico, or David informs us of chemical formulas and properties of elements, or Joel snags a rocketing softball and completes the throw to first base, and Sarah grabs his throw to get the runner out, I can't believe it.  When Daniel (or Sarah!) (or Philip!!) hits a home run, I'm in awe.  When Andrew lifts heavy weights, I gape.  How can these little whippersnappers accomplish feats that I've never dreamed of?

As our children spread their wings, they prove themselves capable of entering new spheres, reaching new people, and achieving success in new fields.  Our family isn't limited to following in Mom's or Dad's footsteps.  This is a good thing.  Apparently the author Hodding Carter Jr. is the source of the quote:  "There are two lasting bequests we can give our children; one is roots, the other wings."  The roots we trust we've given our children are faith in the Lord and in His Word, security and stability in our family, an ability to overlook offenses and to forgive, and numerous good values and morals.  We see their wings spreading now with all sorts of variety and emphases.  Praise be to God for His many gifts!

What are We Worth?

Following Joel (in his wheelchair) down the hall at Sister Kenny last week, I met three other folks in wheelchairs as we made our way to the Therapy Gym.  In the waiting room, several patients with various levels of disability anticipated the arrival of their therapists to begin the session.  Most of them have greater capabilities than Joel at this point.  They strive to sit up, stand alone, or walk without a cane; he tries to roll himself over or stand with the help of two therapists.  But it struck me that all these levels of effort are worthwhile.  Most of us take our ability to work for granted, while at the same time scorning those whose lives are "unproductive."  We subtly devalue people, whether disabled, young, old or in certain jobs, who don't contribute things we find valuable.  And we definitely elevate people whose work benefits us.  Think rock stars or Bill Gates.

I've always believed in my head that each person, regardless of ability, is created by God in His image, redeemed by Christ on the cross, and infinitely valuable.  This situation is helping that belief to travel to my heart.  Joel's activities of eating, exercising, resting and recovering benefit himself primarily, but they also advance God's Kingdom by bringing order out of chaos and overcoming evil with good.  Perhaps some invalids can "only" pray; that advances God's Kingdom as well.  A few individuals might lie in a hospital bed in a coma, or unable even to pray (as Joel did for several weeks); Jesus died for each of them and loves each of them just as much as He loves President Obama or Pope Francis.  Their continued existence may thwart Satan's evil designs.  I believe:  Lord, help my unbelief!

Anti-Procrastination Lessons

I hate calling people on the phone.  I have no recollection of anyone ever screaming at me or calling me names on the phone, so I can only attribute it to either an inherited phobia (I think my mom disliked it as well) or the three-minute phone call limit my dad enforced growing up.  Or maybe it's just one of those inexplicable quirks that afflict us all.  Anyway, this fear of dialing actually has an article in Wikipedia - "Telephone phobia," or the less severe variety of "Telephone anxiety."  Apparently numerous people, like me, enjoy talking to people on the phone, but vastly prefer being called to calling, to the point where we delay the dialing action as long as possible.

In the past, procrastination has paid off a few times.  I've put off calling for days or weeks, only to discover that I didn't need to call anyway, or I no longer need to make the call, or the person died or some such (Well, no, I don't think anyone ever actually died waiting for my call!).   But in the last couple of weeks, I have received two lessons in the value of punctuality, even in telephone calls.

As Aanna's wedding approached, it became clear that none of our family members would arrive at the farm before Friday.  Months ago, I reserved all three rooms of the tiny Bryant motel for Thursday through Saturday, in case we would need them.  I wrote on my list, "Call Bryant motel and cancel for Thursday."  Of course, the word "Call" at the beginning of the task ensured its placement at the bottom of my mental priorities.  From Saturday to Tuesday, I ignored the task.  Finally, on Tuesday evening, I Googled the number and dialed it.  "Ward Motel," Mary chirped.

I introduced myself and explained the situation.  "Can we cancel all three rooms for Thursday night?"

The chirp changed.  "Well, considering that a guy just called today and wanted to take all three rooms for tonight, Wednesday and Thursday..."

Appalled, I apologized profusely and bemoaned my procrastination.  Mary's tone softened after I assured her that we would pay for Thursday night, and also reiterated several times how very sorry I was that she lost out on the reservation.  For several days, the pit of my stomach felt hollow as I remembered the cost, not only to us, but to her, of my delay.

Packing up from the wedding, we forgot a keyboard damper pedal and the camera charger at Plain View Farm.  Of course, we realized this but didn't write it down.  Finally, last Saturday, I remembered them and thought, "I should text the Stadems and see if anyone is going to the farm."  Texting is easier for me than dialing, and I immediately sent a message to eight Stadems who might have been there.  Three minutes later, Tanya called me and said, "We are at the farm and were just in the truck ready to go home when I got your message.  What did you leave?"  Wow.

Will I learn my lesson?  I hope so!  Lord, have mercy...