Dear, dear friends and family,
I had a few moments today to read some of your WONDERFUL messages on caring bridge. I am moved, floored, and feeling blanketed in the awesome love of some very wonderful people. Thank you, thank you for taking the time to pour out your thoughts, greetings, encouragements and verses. My heart is warmed at the thought of someday reading these to Steve.
It has been a roller coaster day. It began of course with the news of Steve’s pneumonia and the delay in surgery. Somehow I was able to take this in stride, and I wonder now that perhaps there was some relief that the surgery, with its unique risks and trauma, was postponed. Next, we heard that Steve’s breathing tube might be removed. What joy we felt at the thought that he might now breath freely and unencumbered, that the sedation would come down and that we might be able to talk and interact with our beloved husband, brother and son! We are praising God that indeed the extubation was successful! However, Steve is in a state of delirium that is difficult to watch. He is moaning and twitching and fighting against his restraints continually, and seems in some ways less aware of our presence than before. He is not sleeping, not restful, but in a constant state of agitation and disorientation. This condition is a normal part of waking from such extreme and lengthy sedation, and may apparently last for days. And of course, if the surgery proceeds as scheduled, he will be further sedated, and will again endure this process, although hopefully not for so long.
My personal praise is that I have felt strong during this wave of events, no doubt buoyed up on your wonderful prayers and encouragements. While it is terrible to watch, with each visit I see more movement. Where before he was still and fighting silently, now Steve is vocalizing and moving. When he raises his arms to his face, I think: he can feed himself! When his finger curls slightly, I think: his fingers may come back, his typing will be possible, and one day he will hold my hand again! When he moans, I think: his vocal cords are intact, he can speak! And so I am grateful for these signs of hope, of an active life to come, whether the actions will be limited, or whether they will be large (one day, perhaps, he will leap!). And so, really, it has not been such a bad day after all.
My prayer requests are as follows:
Please pray that the antibiotics continue to do their important work, and that Steve’s lungs become totally clear and healthy.
Please pray that the sedation wears off in a good and controlled manner, that Steve would regain consciousness smoothly and quickly, and that the return to awareness and to the reality of his situation would not be overly traumatic for him.
I have hovered between a hopeful faith in complete healing and a desire to submit to whatever God’s will may be for Steve’s life. As I struggle with this balance (and perhaps you do too), I found the words of a rabbi friend of my father’s helpful: “As a Rabbi for over half a century, I have seen more than my share of pain and suffering. I have yet to discover an easy way to overcome the hardships of tragedy – but for the paths of hope and of prayer. I urge you most strongly to heed Emerson’s insight that “We judge of man’s wisdom by his hope.” My life experience has shown me that hope can even alter reality – and my belief in God teaches me that He adds our hope as decider for His actions. I have been helped by Aristotle’s advice that “Hope is a waking dream” – and hope helps our dreams very often to come true. Please do not despair. Add to this the powerful impact of prayer. This I can guarantee you. I have seen it at work and its power is beyond compare. Prayer plays a role from the lips of all those moved to join in a circle of friendship.”
And so I will live in hope, that tomorrow morning, perhaps I may enter to find Steve calm and able to talk. Should he not be much improved, I will take comfort in the following verses: “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” 2Cor4:16-18
With much, much love and gratitude,
Michelle