From Michelle. 11 August, 2010. 1:30 p.m.
Dear friends and family,
It feels like weeks since my last update. In fact, it has been a rather long six days.
The weight of details ebb and flow, but this past week has brought another wave of decisions, information and detail. The “to do” list grows in length and the time in which to do it lags behind. Perhaps one of the most challenging aspects of this time is the sheer lack thereof. Dear friends pop in and every minute I spend with them is a minute not spent handling crucial planning. Ironically, there is no time for processing grief, meeting with supportive friends and family or even having one on one time with each other. In six weeks in the hospital, Steve and I have not managed to watch a single movie together! We have become desperate for time as a couple yet the interruptions to our every well-intentioned plan to be alone have become almost comic in their regularity! Our departure date from Harborview looms in eight days, and the children are not yet definitively enrolled in school, we have no idea what benefits we will qualify for from the state, we have no medical insurance confirmed for the end of the month for myself and the children and due to other paperwork and testing, we have no in home care lined up for Steve. How in the world all of the running, interviewing and paperwork has lined up so little defies belief, however this is how the system works! Many of the deadlines loom at the end of a hospital stay, and schools in the Puget Sound just opened this week for enrollment. Each day provides its own portion of details, and we simply do what we can. Just the most pressing details often keep me busy until midnight. Dear friends, perhaps this will explain my inability to contact each one of you personally, though my heart longs to do so! Please continue to pray for God’s good provision for us as we trust Him for these details.
On a medical note, an MRI has confirmed that the pain in Steve’s shoulder is the result of a torn rotator cuff. One of the main goals of physical therapy is to work on Steve doing transfers on his own from his bed to his chair. It is a formidable goal, but greatly increases his sense of independence. His ability to work on this and other important skills, like propelling himself in a manual wheelchair or rolling himself over in bed, are limited by his injury. Needless to say, Steve is anxious to work hard and is discouraged by this latest setback.
Last Sunday we tiptoed our way still further into the new yet strangely unfamiliar world of “normal life”. Steve and I took the boys to a soccer game at the Qwest arena located within eyesight of the hospital. A kind friend donated tickets, we got day passes from the hospital, we used our wonderful wheelchair accessible vehicle, and with medical supplies in our bag, fresh knowledge in our heads and hope in our hearts, we took ourselves out into the great wild world! It was both powerfully exhilarating and intensely discouraging, all at the same time. What was wonderful was being out and about with the kids. Jude naturally hopped onto the back of Steve’s chair for a ride, both children helped fasten and unfasten the many straps for Steve’s chair in the van, and neither of the boys seemed to blink at the many odd twists and turns it took to do what was formerly a simple task. We now had to find strangely allotted wheelchair accessible parking halfway around the arena from the entrance, negotiate lines too narrow for a wheelchair, hold open doors, locate elevators, and find wheelchair accessible family bathrooms. None of this deterred us from cheering the Sounders on to victory, however I cannot lie and say that Steve and I did not have sad eyes most of the game. The hospital has been a haven from the greater reality of our new life. Here we are surrounded by others with similar challenges and those who support us for a living. Everything is wheelchair accessible, and an entire fleet of personnel are here to meet our every need and assuage any medical challenge immediately as it arises. Out there we will have to direct, educate and problem solve a world that operates on two feet. We all face challenges, those on two feet and those in chairs, but this is ours.
On a positive note, we are being carried through. It is hard to imagine that only eight weeks ago, we were simply enjoying our vacation among family and friends, and preparing to return refreshed to our wonderful home in the Philippines! The road has been both difficult beyond imagining and remarkably punctuated with grace and love. As we peer into a dimly lit future, we exercise the muscles of our faith in new ways that painfully polish our souls bur hopefully leave us shining brighter.
Please continue to pray for provision in all of the details, from insurance to schools to the perfect caregivers for our family. Most of all, please pray that Steve would be encouraged and that God would continue to heal. Your prayers are already heard.
A miracle happened this week that I hope will encourage us all. After months of catheterization, Steve has been able to urinate on his own. This may seem like a trivial or overly intimate detail, however I share it with you because it is in many ways truly miraculous, and an answer to many of your prayers. The nerves that control this area must travel from the brain, past Steve’s level of injury, to the very end of the spine. He is still practicing, however his ability to exercise any kind of control in this area is nothing short of miraculous to me. It not only greatly increases Steve’s level of dignity and independence, it speaks to the ability of his nerves to communicate far beyond the level of his spinal cord injury, at least to this most remote area of the spine. Please pray that God would continue to heal him in this way! The Message translates Ephesian 3:20 like this: “God can do anything, you know – far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.” May he continue to work deeply and gently within us all!
Love,
Michelle