The last 7 days have been a blur.
My Dad, who was out of state with his brother on a fishing trip, began to experience very high temperature, delirium, convulsions, could not walk, etc. He was ofcourse rushed to the hospital. This began a whirlwind of tests, which finally revealed that he has West Nile virus. He has been incubated and on a ventilator for many days. Finally, praise God, he began to breathe on his own.
Now that he has come out of incubation and is breathing on his own, it brings along a new set of trials. Hospital staff continues to reiterate that recovery will be slow. After watching my mom struggle with significant health issues and requiring care for more than 10 years, I can’t help but wonder once again – are we in a sprint or a marathon. They say the recovery will be slow, but will he be able to recover or will this change his whole life for the rest of his life?
He continues in ICU at the hospital for yet another day; soon we will begin to interact with a variety of therapists.
Wow… What just happened???
I have been in TX since I received the news, but now I must return home. Leaving will be difficult, though I know I will return soon.
I’ve returned to the Psalms this week in my Bible reading. I found such comfort in them while grieving Elliot and my Mom’s deaths. It has words of lamenting and words of praise that I struggle finding on my own during such difficult times. Ofcourse I am full of rejoicing that my Dad is alive (because it was touch and go for a while), but I grieve for him in regards to the struggles he faces in the months to come. It seems that he just now allowed himself some fun since my Mother’s passing, but now he is the patient.
I struggle with a desire to help him, yet I am leaving so it feels as if I’m leaving everyone else the responsibility of the “dirty” work… Caring for him, taking care of his pets, cleaning his house, doing his laundry. I simply have the power of relationship; I can call daily, send my love and encouragement. Somehow that doesn’t seem like enough.
I am a Daddy’s girl. Oh, I remember his stories, riding in his truck, doing projects with him, and going to get ice cream… I remember it all. My Dad is an amazing man who has overcome the odds, and has loved us well.
Nobody desires such experiences as this, but, in the end, I somehow feel lifted up. My soul is made well – it’s a step away from he hustle and bustle of regular life, and it’s a glimpse into the greatness of His love, gentleness and power. What satan means for bad ultimately shows the glory.
I look forward to being with my husband and son again tomorrow.
