Raw nerves, solid frustration, and absolute uncertainty...
All of that, but there is always Hope.
This past week has been probably one of the hardest of my life, unfortunately, lately, there have been many scenarios where I was taken aback and blindsided by situations beyond my control and sadly part of life.
The last two years I have faced the deaths of my closest cousin, an uncle, and an aunt. There have been days where I have had frustration with day to day living, as we all do, but these three events left my nerves raw and my mind just a bit numb. But nothing could have prepared me for this last month, or even more specifically, this last week.
First, off, we had been seeing signs of settling in our house lately. Nothing major, just some doors that didn't shut right, and just signs of general settling. Pretty soon, we saw more signs, cracks in the drywall, tape that is beginning to separate, a fascia that is moving away from the wall. Peachy. So, I began to look at our options and began a plan of action to work on getting things fixed. Then...
I get a call from a reader. She's frustrated with events in her life, and just needed someone to talk to. Sure, no problem, that's what I'm here for. She calmed down and then she asked if I'd read a certain author's new book. My answer, no...you know I don't read so-and-so. She told me I should and gave me the name of the book. Needless to say, this issue is being looked into.
Fast forward to this last week. Had a great Sunday at church...worship was fantastic and the message, as usual, was spot on and certainly what I needed with all of the turmoil lately. Got home, and later that afternoon got a phone call from my Mom. Dad had had a stroke. The numbness turned into something I can't really describe accurately. Fear, anxiety, my stomach turning, my head swam...I suppose it can be said that I was in shock. The next day, I was with my folks. Mouse and I flew to their town and from the airport we went to the hospital. When I saw Dad, my heart broke. Here is the most outspoken man I'd ever met, one who was full of stories, jokes, some impatience, gruff at times, fairly articulate, laying in a hospital bed, disheveled and weak. He knew Mouse right away, me, I think it took a minute to realize I was his daughter, a bit longer to remember what my name was. His verbalizations were gibberish...nothing that he said made much sense. This was not the man I had just spoken to a few days earlier in a video call.
Mom and Mouse went back to her house for the night, I stayed all night with him. To say I got little sleep was an understatement. By order of the nurses on duty, he was not to get out of bed, as his lower body was affected by the stroke, and he was a fall risk. All night it was a battle to keep him in bed, he didn't understand that just because he thought he could walk out of that room, it didn't mean he could actually do it. The fact that he couldn't communicate to me what he wanted or needed added to that frustration. I don't know how many times I was told that he hated me, didn't like me, to go away, get out of his face, yadda, yadda...to which I just shrugged my shoulders and told him I was just following nurse's orders. The looks I got normally would have made me back down, or get mad, or go away, but I understood that that was something he couldn't quite grasp, and I know my Dad...no matter the amount of grumpy old man he would throw out at any given time normally, he still loved his daughter, and I still love him.
The entire night was a continuous silent prayer for me. Knowing the fear he probably felt, the anxiety and frustration was only part of it, I also battled him to stay in bed physically. Never to blows, but mostly with hand shoving and waving of arms to get out of his way. I didn't realize how strong he was and still is until I tried to keep him from tearing off the telemetry leads. At one point he grasped my hand and squeezed so hard, I thought I was going to cry, but it gave me a bit of hope knowing the strength in his upper body was still pretty good. The next day, the neurologist came in and told us he'd had an ischemic stroke in his left brain. Now we had a diagnosis, we needed a cause. Unfortunately we were told it was a blood clot, of unknown origin that had traveled, and would remain where it was, it was inoperable. As the day progressed, however, he seemed to improve some.
To say that the prayers that were pouring into God's Throne Room were being answered seemed like a massive understatement. We watched throughout the day as his language improved, the slurring began to dissipate, and he became more alert. After a long morning, Mom went to the airport to bring his other Granddaughter and Great-Granddaughters to see him. At that point, physical therapy had him up and walking the hall for a short distance. We had just spotted a therapy dog, who had made her way to him, wiggling her behind, tail wagging happily. He bent down to stroke her head and for the first time I saw him actually grin. Then he looked up and saw the Great-Grandbabies, and I knew he knew they were his, but couldn't remember their names. His Granddaughter was a different story. He knew he'd seen her before, but couldn't place who she was, until I told him that "Scooter" had come to see him. He was thrilled! The rest of the day he seemed to improve hour by hour, so we all came back to the house for the night. All of us exhausted from the day, we crashed early knowing we were getting up at the butt-crack of dawn.
Yesterday, we were told he was being transferred to rehab. He seemed to have slipped a little during the night, but it was nothing major. He'd finally turned on the t.v. to watch TVLand, and paid more attention to the commercials than anything else. His cognitive skills seemed to be getting better, but he still seemed off. When it was almost time to be transferred, we had him change into his street clothes, and he grabbed the walker and went out to stand in the hallway. I guess he thought he was being sprung from the joint because he seemed impatient. When we finally got across to him that he was being transferred to another facility, he got frustrated again. He went back in the room and sat on the end railing of the bed. My youngest daughter had just walked in from taking the girls to one of the many garden areas the hospital provides for patients, visitors and workers to enjoy, and I noticed he was leaning a bit to the side. I asked her to support him a bit, then he leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. Curious, I watched for a few seconds before I realized that he was unconscious, rang the bell and told Mom to get the nurse. When he came to, he was as white as a sheet. The neurologist was called back in, and his transfer orders were cancelled.
Originally, my daughters, granddaughters, and I were scheduled to fly back home today, but with this, my plans were suddenly in limbo. All of the progress he had made was suddenly in question, and even with the neurologist's assurance this wasn't a continuation of the original stroke, or even a new one, I am still rethinking my return home. On the one hand, my Mom is not by herself, my Cousin lives next door and is able to be with her as needed, on the other hand, these are my parents, they need me, but I have to get some things done at home. I can come back later in the week if not a few days after I return. But in the back of my mind there are the what-ifs...what if something else happens? What if he has another stroke? What if the telemetry shows a heart issue? What if? What if?
The one thing that has sustained me throughout all of this is my faith in God's love. I know He knows Dad's beginning and end. I know that He knows that I will be strengthened when I need it, that Mom will be strengthened when she needs it, and let me tell you, that woman is a rock. I know it will take some time to sink in what is going on, but her faith is in the One who healed the sick, the blind, the lame, and made the dead rise again. She knows, as do I, that He will sustain us and that He will provide the strength, peace and calmness in each situation. Are we frustrated, are we angry, are we scared? Yes, we are, but I know that Jesus will be with us through all of us, even when we take our eyes off Him, He never takes His eyes off us.
So, here's today...Thursday. No, Dad isn't saved, and folks, if you're the praying kind, please pray for one little lucid moment when we, or someone, can talk to him and convince him that he needs to put his faith and trust in Jesus, that time for him is in short supply. Maybe his time isn't today or tomorrow, or even in the next year or so, but at 81, he's in the sunset time of his life, and no one is even guaranteed their next breath as it is. And pray for us as we move forward, that we will make good and wise decisions in everything that we will be facing. Especially pray for my Mom as she makes this new journey, one that she doesn't want to take but now has to. She, too, is an incredibly strong person, but she has some health issues that concern me with the stress she is bearing. I know that whatever comes her way, that she will give it to her Father who will provide what she needs, but still, she is flesh and bone, and not actually the Superwoman I've always believed she was. Not that she hasn't always been awesome, it's just that...well...I'm feeling the human-ness of all of us. The weakness that is the human condition creeping up, that is, that all of us, young and old have two certainties...we are born and we die. No getting out of the last one.
So, I apologise for the length of this post, but this is something that I felt needed to come out. It's raw, and lays bare all that I am right now...frustrated, angry, scared, but also stronger in my faith that God will bring all of us through whatever is next, whether it is praising Him for Dad's recovery, or leaning into Him in the grieving process, it's all in His hands. It reminds me of a new song that's out, the chorus says, "Give me faith like Daniel in the lion's den. Give me hope like Moses in the wilderness. Give me a heart like David, Lord be my defense, so I can face my giants with confidence."
Thank you all for your prayers, and thank You, God, for Your love.
This past week has been probably one of the hardest of my life, unfortunately, lately, there have been many scenarios where I was taken aback and blindsided by situations beyond my control and sadly part of life.
The last two years I have faced the deaths of my closest cousin, an uncle, and an aunt. There have been days where I have had frustration with day to day living, as we all do, but these three events left my nerves raw and my mind just a bit numb. But nothing could have prepared me for this last month, or even more specifically, this last week.
First, off, we had been seeing signs of settling in our house lately. Nothing major, just some doors that didn't shut right, and just signs of general settling. Pretty soon, we saw more signs, cracks in the drywall, tape that is beginning to separate, a fascia that is moving away from the wall. Peachy. So, I began to look at our options and began a plan of action to work on getting things fixed. Then...
I get a call from a reader. She's frustrated with events in her life, and just needed someone to talk to. Sure, no problem, that's what I'm here for. She calmed down and then she asked if I'd read a certain author's new book. My answer, no...you know I don't read so-and-so. She told me I should and gave me the name of the book. Needless to say, this issue is being looked into.
Fast forward to this last week. Had a great Sunday at church...worship was fantastic and the message, as usual, was spot on and certainly what I needed with all of the turmoil lately. Got home, and later that afternoon got a phone call from my Mom. Dad had had a stroke. The numbness turned into something I can't really describe accurately. Fear, anxiety, my stomach turning, my head swam...I suppose it can be said that I was in shock. The next day, I was with my folks. Mouse and I flew to their town and from the airport we went to the hospital. When I saw Dad, my heart broke. Here is the most outspoken man I'd ever met, one who was full of stories, jokes, some impatience, gruff at times, fairly articulate, laying in a hospital bed, disheveled and weak. He knew Mouse right away, me, I think it took a minute to realize I was his daughter, a bit longer to remember what my name was. His verbalizations were gibberish...nothing that he said made much sense. This was not the man I had just spoken to a few days earlier in a video call.
Mom and Mouse went back to her house for the night, I stayed all night with him. To say I got little sleep was an understatement. By order of the nurses on duty, he was not to get out of bed, as his lower body was affected by the stroke, and he was a fall risk. All night it was a battle to keep him in bed, he didn't understand that just because he thought he could walk out of that room, it didn't mean he could actually do it. The fact that he couldn't communicate to me what he wanted or needed added to that frustration. I don't know how many times I was told that he hated me, didn't like me, to go away, get out of his face, yadda, yadda...to which I just shrugged my shoulders and told him I was just following nurse's orders. The looks I got normally would have made me back down, or get mad, or go away, but I understood that that was something he couldn't quite grasp, and I know my Dad...no matter the amount of grumpy old man he would throw out at any given time normally, he still loved his daughter, and I still love him.
The entire night was a continuous silent prayer for me. Knowing the fear he probably felt, the anxiety and frustration was only part of it, I also battled him to stay in bed physically. Never to blows, but mostly with hand shoving and waving of arms to get out of his way. I didn't realize how strong he was and still is until I tried to keep him from tearing off the telemetry leads. At one point he grasped my hand and squeezed so hard, I thought I was going to cry, but it gave me a bit of hope knowing the strength in his upper body was still pretty good. The next day, the neurologist came in and told us he'd had an ischemic stroke in his left brain. Now we had a diagnosis, we needed a cause. Unfortunately we were told it was a blood clot, of unknown origin that had traveled, and would remain where it was, it was inoperable. As the day progressed, however, he seemed to improve some.
To say that the prayers that were pouring into God's Throne Room were being answered seemed like a massive understatement. We watched throughout the day as his language improved, the slurring began to dissipate, and he became more alert. After a long morning, Mom went to the airport to bring his other Granddaughter and Great-Granddaughters to see him. At that point, physical therapy had him up and walking the hall for a short distance. We had just spotted a therapy dog, who had made her way to him, wiggling her behind, tail wagging happily. He bent down to stroke her head and for the first time I saw him actually grin. Then he looked up and saw the Great-Grandbabies, and I knew he knew they were his, but couldn't remember their names. His Granddaughter was a different story. He knew he'd seen her before, but couldn't place who she was, until I told him that "Scooter" had come to see him. He was thrilled! The rest of the day he seemed to improve hour by hour, so we all came back to the house for the night. All of us exhausted from the day, we crashed early knowing we were getting up at the butt-crack of dawn.
Yesterday, we were told he was being transferred to rehab. He seemed to have slipped a little during the night, but it was nothing major. He'd finally turned on the t.v. to watch TVLand, and paid more attention to the commercials than anything else. His cognitive skills seemed to be getting better, but he still seemed off. When it was almost time to be transferred, we had him change into his street clothes, and he grabbed the walker and went out to stand in the hallway. I guess he thought he was being sprung from the joint because he seemed impatient. When we finally got across to him that he was being transferred to another facility, he got frustrated again. He went back in the room and sat on the end railing of the bed. My youngest daughter had just walked in from taking the girls to one of the many garden areas the hospital provides for patients, visitors and workers to enjoy, and I noticed he was leaning a bit to the side. I asked her to support him a bit, then he leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. Curious, I watched for a few seconds before I realized that he was unconscious, rang the bell and told Mom to get the nurse. When he came to, he was as white as a sheet. The neurologist was called back in, and his transfer orders were cancelled.
Originally, my daughters, granddaughters, and I were scheduled to fly back home today, but with this, my plans were suddenly in limbo. All of the progress he had made was suddenly in question, and even with the neurologist's assurance this wasn't a continuation of the original stroke, or even a new one, I am still rethinking my return home. On the one hand, my Mom is not by herself, my Cousin lives next door and is able to be with her as needed, on the other hand, these are my parents, they need me, but I have to get some things done at home. I can come back later in the week if not a few days after I return. But in the back of my mind there are the what-ifs...what if something else happens? What if he has another stroke? What if the telemetry shows a heart issue? What if? What if?
The one thing that has sustained me throughout all of this is my faith in God's love. I know He knows Dad's beginning and end. I know that He knows that I will be strengthened when I need it, that Mom will be strengthened when she needs it, and let me tell you, that woman is a rock. I know it will take some time to sink in what is going on, but her faith is in the One who healed the sick, the blind, the lame, and made the dead rise again. She knows, as do I, that He will sustain us and that He will provide the strength, peace and calmness in each situation. Are we frustrated, are we angry, are we scared? Yes, we are, but I know that Jesus will be with us through all of us, even when we take our eyes off Him, He never takes His eyes off us.
So, here's today...Thursday. No, Dad isn't saved, and folks, if you're the praying kind, please pray for one little lucid moment when we, or someone, can talk to him and convince him that he needs to put his faith and trust in Jesus, that time for him is in short supply. Maybe his time isn't today or tomorrow, or even in the next year or so, but at 81, he's in the sunset time of his life, and no one is even guaranteed their next breath as it is. And pray for us as we move forward, that we will make good and wise decisions in everything that we will be facing. Especially pray for my Mom as she makes this new journey, one that she doesn't want to take but now has to. She, too, is an incredibly strong person, but she has some health issues that concern me with the stress she is bearing. I know that whatever comes her way, that she will give it to her Father who will provide what she needs, but still, she is flesh and bone, and not actually the Superwoman I've always believed she was. Not that she hasn't always been awesome, it's just that...well...I'm feeling the human-ness of all of us. The weakness that is the human condition creeping up, that is, that all of us, young and old have two certainties...we are born and we die. No getting out of the last one.
So, I apologise for the length of this post, but this is something that I felt needed to come out. It's raw, and lays bare all that I am right now...frustrated, angry, scared, but also stronger in my faith that God will bring all of us through whatever is next, whether it is praising Him for Dad's recovery, or leaning into Him in the grieving process, it's all in His hands. It reminds me of a new song that's out, the chorus says, "Give me faith like Daniel in the lion's den. Give me hope like Moses in the wilderness. Give me a heart like David, Lord be my defense, so I can face my giants with confidence."
Thank you all for your prayers, and thank You, God, for Your love.
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