Explanations

What good friends. And how VERY blessed. My inbox was FLOODED with emails after yesterday's blog so let me set the record straight. We love our surgeons, our colon team is great, our liver team is amazing and our oncologist is the best. Couple that with a fabulous primary care physician and we are blessed. Yesterday's issue was solely and firmly on the shoulders of the ICU team and their doctor who did not think the physicians chosen BY US warranted being included in something significant. Toss in that they didn't call me and there is plenty of upset feelings by a LOT of people. But to set things straight, we highly recommend the physicians we have chosen and have been very well cared for by them all. This was an ICU only issue.

I chose to vent my frustration in my blog based on the advice of a lot of close friends and good counseling advice. The fact is that Father Ely is right, Jesus was angry when anger was justified and hiding from those feelings because they are uncomfortable is not healthy. Anger and hurt have been vented, apologies from ICU have been given, I was called last night for minor drug changes and it's time to move on to more wellness for Chris.

Will I vent in my blog again? Most likely. Would I like your prayers on this Sunday morning? Totally. And do I appreciate the overwhelming outpouring of support yesterday? More than you know.

Grace (and patience) for your journey,
Leigh

Frustration

How does one balance being grace-filled with being direct and clear with people?? It's a tightrope I am walking this morning and I'm struggling with anger and hurt amidst knowing that I want to be Christ-like. Father Ely came by though, he reminded me that Jesus Himself got angry. That helped.

I was resting last night, in part because I trusted the ICU to call me if anything happened. At 5 a.m. Chris' lung collapsed and no one ever bothered to call me. More upsetting to my spirit, no one called our surgeon or his practice and the poor resident met me with deep apologies and upset feelings of his own this morning. I was met with an informed consent form and little explanation other than to sign because he needed a chest tube. I was also told he was back on a drug that our liver surgeon specifically didn't want to see in place. And the complexity of conventional hospital medicine infuriated me to no end. But what does grace demand here???

How does one balance kindness and grace with the anger and hurt of being left out of the healthcare of a critically ill spouse?? And how does an ICU doctor who is not even known to me decide to leave out of the loop the surgery practice in whom I place my trust???

Needless to say, I'm struggling with trust here this morning. Struggling to trust the ICU team, struggling to trust Swedish as a whole and beginning to struggle to trust conventional medicine entirely. For a family that strongly believes in and benefits from natural medicine, this experience is disheartening and I find myself deeply saddened this morning.

Chris is resting comfortably, chest tube in place. I am told that this won't have an impact on his overall wellness plan. I'm finding being on my knees an easier place to be at the moment. Trust in the Great Physician is still a slam dunk.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

The Theology of Nemo

In the movie Finding Nemo, little Nemo is just totally crestfallen at one point, thinking he can't make anything work out and his friend Dory comes along...

Hey Mr Grump Gills You know what you gotta do when life gets you down?
Just keep swimming Just keep swimming
Just keep swimming swimming swimming

ICU is a tough place to be day in and day out and several people have said, "How do you and the kids keep doing it?" Answer: We just keep swimming...and praying.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmyUkm2qlhA&NR=1

Ash Wednesday

One year we gave up coffee for Lent, I about died. One year we gave up alcohol, that was simple. One year we tried sugar, we found creative ways to cheat. One year we gave up all drinks but water, I managed to fabricate medical reasons for a few extra ones. We haven't really been stellar at Lenten disciplines. This year, however, discipline is being thrust upon us and the significance of the day is not lost on me. This year we ARE in the wilderness, at least to us, as Lent begins and I'm comforted by the Presence of Jesus here with us but I'm still afraid.

So, here I am alone with Chris in his room at Swedish. He's breathing through a ventilator, he has more iv lines than I have ever seen on a human being, he is motionless and I take his hand and lace my fingers through his and squeeze his and tell him I'm here. I'm in a wilderness I have never before experienced and I hate it. I hate it for him, I hate it for me, I hate it for Eric and Emily, I just hate it. But this is where we are and I can't change it. And I need Jesus like I have never needed Jesus before and it's Ash Wednesday and I feel His outstretched hand in this wilderness and together we walk .

As I finish this up, the repsiratory therapist has just drawn a blood gas on him and it's good news so his oxygen is being turned down a tad. Another baby step toward Easter Sunday. I'm glad I don't have to do this alone and that Jesus meets us in the wilderness...it would be crushingly unbearable without Him.

Tuesday Afternoon

Eric has his head on the edge of the bed, he has Chris' hand resting on top of it. I know Chris is happy, his baby in his lap essentially and ever the dad. Who is doing the comforting here or it it both of them?? Eric, reminding Chris that he needs a dad, and yet showing me and Chris both that he has grown to be a man who can comfort us as well.

Emily is sleeping on the cot in the corner, her day was made not by her good grades or anything like that, but because his oxygen needs are a little less. Life has taught us how to read a ventilator...ten days after seeing one for the first time in our lives. When you leave one afternoon and dad is at 90% oxygen and you come back from class the next morning and it's 60% you smile more. Is he out of the woods?? We don't really know. Is he getting better? We THINK so but again, we don't really know. But it's a start...a teensy little baby step toward normalcy, toward being home again.

Monday

I came back from getting the kids today and one of the dearest people on campus at Seattle U was praying with Chris. Father Ely had come to call. I refer to him as dear because this is how Chris has for years described him to me and I am very honored to get to know him better during this time. And Chris was right, he is just more than dear. He told me the Jesuits wake up and start praying for Chris first thing every morning. I wonder how many people are praying for him. Riddick, his brother, and I have agreed to tell everyone we can to pray for him and Riddick is a faithful brother in Christ to his brother here because my inbox is flooded with Moravian clergy praying for Chris.

Prayer is everything. Prayer is medicine and prayer is what keeps me going and what I know keeps Chris going too. I read every single prayer to him. I cry through most of them. He is laying next to me here, covering him is the prayer shawl the women of Home Moravian Church made for him and I feel God in this place. There is a sacred Presence here. The kids are on their way home, it's a quiet peaceful time of day and God is here with us. The kids were GREAT today, once again proving we do parenting really well. Eric talked to him and then took a nap on the cot, Emily talked to him amidst doing some thrift store shopping and we ate cupcakes from Starbucks to celebrate a baby step for dad.

And thus, home is slowly coming to Swedish, more and more of our personal things filling the space, more and more nurses knowing our kids on a first name basis and kids more and more familiar with the ICU and showing their own kindnesses and helping people. This is how we did chemo, this is how we did radiation, this is how we do life. A burden too heavy for one person can be shared by four and made lighter. That's what it means to be a family.

Chris is holding his own. His oxygen needs are slightly down today, that's a good thing. His heart and blood pressure remain strong and steady and his sheer determination to live is apparent and doctors smiled today. Is he out of the woods?? They say not yet. Is this still a long shot? They say yes but less so. Do they really know?? Of course not...they are not God.

God is God, they are not, we are not, and we are grateful for that. And once again, we complete a day in ICU, our 11th. How many more lay ahead?? We simply do not know. But tomorrow, kids will hop on a bus in front of our house, they will walk from the bus stop to the hospital, they will bound in and say good morning to us and we will be a family and one very aware of our Loving God.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Prayer

A brother praying his heart out in Pennsylvania, a wife praying her heart out in Seattle. And better numbers on Chris' monitor. Thank you God.