Balance

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
What does the worker gain from his toil? Ecclesiastes 3:1-9

I captured the photo in the Fred & Lena Meijer Heart Center lobby.

Thursday night was an extremely difficult night for me. I made no attempt to even rest my eyes. Dad was aggressively agitated. I don't desire for him to be sedated, but asked if there was anything they could give him to help him rest. The Tylenol and Motrin didn't even seem to phase him. I felt terrible watching his frustration. He wants to speak, but is unable. I had to gather my strength by leaving the room once the nurse and respiratory tech arrived. They called him Houdini. His strength could overtake me. I called Mom at 5:45am. She quickly walked Murphy and left for the hospital. I then called Dave and he woke Courtney and Kelsey up to bring them to see their Grandpa. Ex-ray arrived along with doctors doing rounds. Dad's hemoglobin was deemed deficient from an earlier draw. As Mom, Dave and the girls arrived the nurse started a blood pack. Dr. Fitch came in and checked Dad, talked to him asking him lots of questions, then explained the plan for the day. He would have a new temporary dialysis port placed on the left side of his neck.

Dave delivered Kelsey to school a little late. Mom insisted she would be fine and wanted Courtney and I to go home and rest. We made a quick stop at Sam's to pick up meds for Courtney. I was physically and emotionally drained! I was in bed by 9:45am. I woke for brief moments throughout the afternoon, but did not get out of bed until Mom called about 5:30pm. My head was pounding. Mom said they gave Dad Ativan to help him relax after his procedure which went well. I am aware of this med because it has been given to Kelsey in the ER a couple of times. I am staying home tonight. Mom is going home while my cousin Roger and his good friend Ed, both hunting buddies of Dad, will stay at the hospital.
Dad's nurse told Mom the staff is able to care for Dad very efficiently without family present. Mom told her until Dad can push the Nurses' button on his own, someone will be with him.

I am having a difficult time balancing our predetermined plans for treatment when Dad is mentally alert, with his physical strength improving each day. His breathing continues to improve although he coughs sporadically, which requires him to be suctioned. The vent is only giving him minimal support when he needs it. He is obviously uncomfortable from the rash on his backside, which makes me cringe in pain for him. The doctor's have assured us they can have him sitting up soon as he is strong. The infection still continues to have control in his body though.

Although we have our own vigil in ICU with Dad, we are more than aware that we are in a sea of families floating with their own life-rings. Being in ICU, grief and emotion are present every moment of the day. This is a ship of close to 1,000 hospital beds. Although the skilled staff is there to serve their patients, I have not seen resort wear and little drinks with umbrellas. Its stethascopes, IVs, and white styrofoam cups of water.

We are blessed to share continued moments with Dad even though they are anxious filled at times. We know that Dad can overcome this trial, yet as I wrote previously, we can plan the future, but not the outcome. We have shared grief too many times recently with family and friends who have not been graced with the blessing of future plans with their loved one...