Hearing the words “we found a mass” was scary.
Hearing it called a tumor, a brain tumor, was scary.
Meeting a neurosurgeon was scary.
Waiting during surgery was scary.
Ian being taken back down for a CT scan to check for post-operative complications was scary.
Ian not waking up for about 6 hours was scary.
Hearing that he was letting the vent do all the breathing for him was scary.
For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
2 Timothy 1:7 KJV
There have been so many scary moments since that afternoon last week when we ended up with the first of many MRIs.
One of the first things we heard this morning was that our son is hyper-sensitive to narcotics. He was needing some painkillers late last night as he regained consciousness, and after the problems coming out from under anesthesia, they didn’t want to give him too much. I was told that he received a small amount of Morphine, about the amount that would be given a 30 lb child (our strapping young lad is 6′ 2″ and about 145 lbs) and he stopped breathing, as in STOPPED BREATHING (this was after being taken off the vent). He needed 2 doses of Narcan to reverse that. Scary stuff.
What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.
I have to admit that I have been very much afraid, and yet, at the same time there is peace, and yes, it truly does pass understanding. I don’t understand it, but I don’t have to understand it to experience it. It’s safe to say that in the past few days, trusting the Lord has taken on a whole new layer of meaning for me.
We are still waiting on the preliminary pathology results.
He’s making progress, but he still has a long way to go.
I’m trying, so hard, to remember the optimism of last Friday…
**Again, I’m falling asleep… Really, by the time I sit down to type more than the 3 or 4 sentences I can stand typing on my phone, the adrenaline drops off, the exhaustion sets in, and I start nodding off in between typos…