There comes a point, it seems, when people in tough situations go numb. I'm pretty sure that experience was mine today (or yesterday, depending on when you're reading this).
We started the day out with some discomfort from not being able to eat. The Minion had a sedated MRI, TEE (an echo of her heart, but from the inside of her throat), and the installation of a PICC line scheduled. That all got going around 9:30 and ended around 1:00.
I was sitting in the cafeteria eating Chick-Fil-A when the call came from Neurosurgery: "Mr. Henderson, are you nearby? We need to speak with you."
Never. Good. News.
The news, as the Queen detailed on Facebook yesterday, was that the site of hemorrhage on the right had grown. For those following the details, that also points to an infectious process as the cause of all the drama here. Brain surgery #2, here we come.
But we had to wait. And wait. And wait.
And it didn't even make me mad. I sat there mostly numb. I was grateful that they were pulling a tumor out a kid's skull. I even managed a nap in there. That helped with the numbness. 4:00 became 5:30 became 6:00 became 7:00 which became 8:00 which became 8:30. About 8:40 or so, she was off to have a biopsy and fluid evacuation of the right side bleed.
The same dang neurosurgeon was there again. Wow.
They brought her straight back to her room so she did most of her recovery here. That was stressful enough because she was having trouble with swelling and mucus in her throat from the intubation tube being there for 12+ hours. At one point, the Queen and I found ourselves bossing the doctors around and pointing to numbers on the screen that, looking back, I'm sure they were aware of. None of the medical professionals in the room seemed stressed. The only stressed people were the patient and her parents, one of those more than the other.
If my daughter has surgery ever again, I don't think they want us too close when she starts coming out from anesthesia. Maybe there's a recovery room where parents aren't given immediate access for a reason.
After an hour or so and some pain meds, things stabilized. It's 2:00am and she's soundly asleep, breathing great and looking beautiful.
I have no idea what tomorrow holds. But here are some prayer requests for tonight.
1. Some good sleep for my two girls up here. By the time most of you see this, it'll be a retro-prayer. I only ask that you pray it anyway, knowing that God can work out the whole space-time continuum bit.
2. Good left-side and right vision recovery. The neurosurgeons thought that evacuating that fluid would really help the left-side recovery. May it be.
3. Ongoing clarity on what it all means. The diagnosis is beginning to come into focus. We want it laser-sharp so that we can deal with it appropriately. We'll have to trust God for the all the implications of it, but we won't borrow tomorrow's trouble.
4. The last day of VBS at our church. Again, I know life is continuing outside the 180 sq.ft. that we currently occupy. I hope all the kids and the volunteers encounter the eternal.
Thanks for praying with us.