William’s condition, update 18
As I’ve talked to so many, you seem surprised to hear me chirpy. It’s funny how walking into the hospital with my husband is far easier than watching ambulatory men take him away. I also felt completely at peace with the decisions we’ve made for Will’s surgery.
Just to update you on what you can pray with us about.
- Surgery did go great. The surgeons were thrilled with the results. I must say, as I sat in the waiting room, it was pretty exciting to watch the ENT walk toward me to deliver news, as he was beaming with a smile! (phew!)
- He was able to find the hole – which was the size of a pinhole! Can you believe that?! Then, after finding it, he made it slightly bigger and began patching it up.
- Will’s been feeling ok. He’s a little swollen, as expected. He has to lay down and can only be elevated up to 15 degrees because they don’t want any pressure affecting the area of his brain where surgery was done. That part alone, is starting to drive him a little bonkers. Understandably.
- We hope today they pull the lumbar drain out of his spine. From there we’ll be able to see how well his body does adjusting. The hope is he’ll be fine and won’t have any side effects; they’re really testing to see if he gets any sudden spinal headaches.
- Please pray for patience. As well as things are going, it’s always difficult to watch the person you love be in any sort of discomfort.
- I’m praying for a sweet reunion between Cartie & Will. I know they miss each other greatly. (balancing time between my son & my husband has given me a highly compassionate understanding into the life of single moms. And I’ve just barely gotten a taste of it!)
I’m telling you people, hang around the ICU enough, and those people start to become like family. Some people have the saddest, heart breaking stories. And others, just need somebody to listen. Which might be one of greatest lessons I’ve learned in the past couple months; to be quick to listen, and slow to give advice.
It is funny too, how each time I walk down a hallway in the hospital, I inevitably run into a staff member we’ve gotten to know. A nurse or doctor or Will’s “lift team.” They all are so quick and eager to ask me how Will’s doing. Maybe it was because he was such an extreme case for quite some time; I’m sure hoping and praying they saw the Lord work a miracle. Not medicine – not doctors – not luck.