I feel light this morning. It must be 1. the hospital food, 2. the fabulous brown shirt (wink @ Danielle and Kelly and Joline), oh, and the 3000 people praying for me. Yup, that about covers it.
Yesterday was a day of blessings. Ian's rest was quite calm, in and out of twilight sleep for most of the day. He was Ian again - he can't smile with all the crap in his face, and I doubt he'd be in the smiling mood, but he is Ian under all the wires and fuzzy drugs. We keep him mostly "sleep state" because the breathing tube is quite uncomfortable. His oxygen/breathing stuff is better controlled. Talked to the respiratory specialist this morning and she was happy with the progress. The scan of his lungs showed no pulmonary embolism, which was a possibility. Another check in the + column.
On one of those visits, Ian was able to use his left pointer finger to spell out messages to us on the blanket. One was "It hurts not to talk" - and when I said, you don't mean physically, right? you mean mentally? he nodded yes. And then he wrote "saline" which meant, give me food, darnit (we had much feeding tube drama before this - he probably has a grumbling tummy and doesn't realize he's receiving nutrition). It's just like him to write that and not "FOOD" like a normal person.
Later he was able to write on some paper with a marker; he wrote "I want to breathe" ... probably meaning on his own without this stupid tube. But in any case, a noble goal. (we assured him we would like that very much as well but he was going to have to wait till after surgery to expect it) He also wrote, "sedation" and some other words, and indicated he wanted to not be awake so much. The doctor talked to him about going ahead with the surgery, and he gave the thumbs up. He made his mother's day when I let him in on her fender bender from that morning and he gave the thumbs up again (her driving history is a bit of family lore).
In there somewhere (hey, I told you, my time line is fuzzy), Kelly and Danielle, dear friends, "conned" me into going out for food and MADE me walk through the rain (if you know me, you'll know how hard that was) and up a hill (if you know me, you'll know how hard THAT was), but it was, of course, a blessing to see them and a good idea to get some fresh air. My bestie Nicole came in the evening and we had a quiet dinner in the dining hall like normal adults. It was a refreshing day.
I have God's peace. I have the amazing sense of everyone who is praying for me. I have had mercifully few stomach issues or panic episodes (see above in the "knowing me" dept). THIS MORNING I WENT TO THE HOSPITAL STARBUCKS AND BROKE MY 6-DAY FAST THEREOF.
I am at ease because I know that Ian is resting. My bestie from Norfolk is on her way. My brothers-in-law are headed in. The body of Christ is alive and well and every few hours I check facebook and email and I'm overwhelmed by the pouring out of thoughts, prayers, wishes, scriptures, encouragement, offers. I have an arsenal of baked goods and "threats" of more coming. My kids are on the world's longest playdate. I am blessed.
Today is the long day. Knocking this out and getting through the night. Praying between breaths for the team, appointed by God, to perform this incredibly delicate procedure tomorrow. It is my understanding that surgery will get underway around 7 am and should take 6-8 hours. I will certainly post when it has begun.
My life verse: Jeremiah 17: 7-8. Scripture's job isn't to comfort, but this verse is my comfort.