Family

Four weeks ago, I got a text that shook my world...and then the network of texts and phone calls amongst my siblings was full-blown.  Mom had had a small heart attack.  Dad assured us it was small, the doctors were taking care of us and she was okay.  He was okay.  It was okay, just a small heart attack.  Then the second one came and it wasn’t okay.  She had been flown to Buffalo and was in ICU.  So, we came in from our parts of the world to be together.  For the following week, we waited on pins and needles and spoke with teams of doctors to find out about mom.  There wasn’t any heart attack, but they didn’t know what the main cause of her illness was.    She had a heart condition as well as an infection in her gut.  It was most likely the result of her recent hysterectomy that went well.  We had been so ecstatic about that hysterectomy…it removed all the cancer and we thought she was on the way to recovery. 

So we spent that week at her side in the ICU and together in the waiting lounge.  We went through fear, hope, tears, laughs, memories and dreams.  And we prayed.  We prayed fervently.  We prayed together.  We prayed separately.  We prayed with mom.  We prayed with our visitors.  We prayed to our loving and forgiving Heavenly Father for his mercy and the heal her.

The doctors couldn’t tell us a lot. They were constantly surprised with her overall demeanor knowing what poison was in her body.  They kept delaying possible surgery.  We were so scared for that surgery…but prayed for one step at a time.  And one step at a time is what we got.  They completed a procedure to drain the infection which was rather successful, though not the final answer.  Then, she was finally able to come off the respirator, so her heart was getting stronger.  But we still had fear.  The infection was still there.  The heart was still stunned.  And she was delusional…but we didn’t really connect her behavior to medicine and lack of sleep…it was just scary to see and hear her trepidations.  She was distrustful of some of the nurses, rightfully so since her hands had been secured down and she felt trapped in an institution. 

And we sat on the outside of her body and prayed.  I hope that we gave her some sense of safekeeping during that time.  Especially my three sisters.  They spent the nights in the hospital with her and took shifts at her side.  We all took turns getting reports from the doctors and nurses, asking the questions that we could and waiting for dad to ask the most important question:  Was she coming home with us?  They always said that was their goal.  So we prayed.  And she continued to get better and less loopy.  They finally moved her out of the ICU and we began breathing again and we knew she was coming home.  There continued to be setbacks, the horrible c-diff, the swelling, the remaining infection…but we knew she was coming home! 

Three weeks and two days after she came in, she was able to leave.  Dad had gotten his instructions and lessons because she still needs to be nursed at home….but she came home!  Unfortunaely, she's continued to have some problems and has gone once again to the doctor.  But she's comfortable because she's under the watch of our family doctor and she's in the local hospital. 

She’s alive and doing well.  We are so thankful for His guiding hand and heart of compassion.  We are so blessed to have her and each other.  Family.  It can’t be beat.