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.

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...

More Basement Woes

A week after our basement flooded, the carpet and pad had finally dried out and Joel & Daniel wielded the Rug Doctor over the whole house from 4-10 pm on Tuesday evening. On Wednesday morning, Joel's first class didn't start until 9, so Daniel took off for his 8:00 class and Joel stayed to finish the other half of the basement carpet. As he was getting ready to leave, Andrew came racing up the stairs and said, "Water is pouring in again!" Sure enough, the septic system had backed up because of the frozen drainfield and we had more water in the basement. This time, thanks to Andrew's quick response, the carpet was mostly untouched. Joel left without the Rug Doctor to bring Sarah to softball practice (Willmar had spring break this week so practices were in the morning), Pete & Andrew cleaned up the mess and used the Rug Doctor on the part that had gotten wet, and then I returned the Rug Doctor and picked up Sarah. We couldn't run any water until the septic tank pumpers came and did their work, then we gratefully started using water again - until Thursday morning when we again had a leak! I forget who caught that one, but after a while Ross the plumber came over in the afternoon and blew out the pipe, and we were back in business.

Friday morning I had the thought that I should check it. There was some water on the basement floor, which could have been from before, so I just put a bucket under the pipe outlet where it had gushed out earlier, and decided to check on it when the load of laundry started draining. I told Sarah, "I'm going down to check the septic; if it starts leaking, I'll call you and tell you to shut the washing machine off." Unfortunately, I said this right after Andrew had pointed out it was April Fool's Day, so she suspected a trick. When I saw that water was gushing out again, and called her on the intercom, she queried, "Are you serious?" and didn't shut off the washer until I hollered it and she heard the water in the background.

This time Ross came out and finally discovered the true problem - a tree "root ball" had grown into the pipe and plugged most of the opening. The slow draining in our bathroom sink, which had been going on for a week or more, was now explained. The guys had to dig up the pipe with a backhoe, pull out the ball, repair and replace the pipe, and fill it all in again, but now everything works.

I didn't think of this before, but how often do problems in our lives work that way? We think we've solved it, only to find the same symptoms coming back, because we identified the wrong problem.

Anyway, as Sarah said while we were using the office bathroom, "If we were used to an outhouse, it wouldn't be a problem!" We take so many things for granted, and only appreciate them when they're gone. Thanks You, Lord, for running water, working septic systems, electricity, people who can fix all of the above, AND Your gentle occasional reminders that all these things are extras. The people we love are our true treasure.