One Big Adventure
An opportunity to log in some of the thoughts and activities of our homeschooling family of eight. We love books and good food and aspire to a Christ-centered, multi-generational, agrarian life.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Oh, me of little faith

This morning I was fretting about how the day would go--I was very concerned about James' surgery (and still am concerned about his recovery) and was extra concerned, on top of that, about how our only time for a family visit between Minnesota and Georgia might just get pushed aside. I kept thinking that of all the details there have been to work out so far on this incredible roller coaster ride, our God has not failed us and has more than met every need. He did that again today.

Surgery actually called for James early and Hannah and I went down with him to pre-op. At 11:40 a.m. we were on our way there. At 12:40 p.m., after James was already lightly sedated, we were watching the anesthesiologist and the nurse anesthetist carry him down the hall through the OR doors and out of sight. We checked in to the surgery waiting room and went upstairs to James' room to take care of a few things and the call came that the clan was parked and walking toward the hospital. What a great reunion we had in the lobby! Vern commented that we should move to the side (I thought we were to the side, but we weren't) and a man in a wheelchair waiting to pass said that this was too precious to move to the side. I felt the same--but we did manage to clear the way some so folks could pass.

We actually had a relaxing time together in the waiting room. We snuggled a lot and told each other how much we missed the others and how much we loved each other, relishing just being together. The surgeon came out when only Katie and I were in the waiting room--Vern had gone out to move the van and trailer, since he had parked in a one hour parking place, and Hannah had taken Owen, Becca and Carrie up to James' room to put a few things away. James' surgeon, whose name keeps escaping me, said that James did great and that everything was just as he expected. This was very good news as so many things the past few weeks have turned from one surprise to another.

James only lost about a teaspoon of blood and so didn't end up needing the bag of blood I thought he would this morning (although they may decide he needs it later). Everything inside was just as suspected and, according to the surgeon, it all when back together just like clockwork. He installed a new g-tube since that will remain an important part of James' nutrition for the foreseeable future.

Before they had to leave, the whole family was allowed together back to the recovery room and it blessed this momma's heart in a big way to see and hear my wonderful husband, James' daddy, pray over him before he had to leave. Suffice it to say, even in my fear, which the Bible tells us is a lack of faith, God was mighty and faithful and gave us some precious time together.

James remained in the recovery room for a longer time than normal because there was some concern about his oxygen saturation levels (an area of greater risk for people with Down syndrome). At this point, he is now in a private room on the regular floor, although the folks over in the Peds ICU do know about James in case we have to take a trip over there tonight.
It seems we have just about gotten his pain meds to a good point and he is resting well as I type this. It's nothing short of a miracle that he has not gotten any major infection so far.

Please continue to pray:
  1. for protection from any infection.
  2. for thorough and quick recovery and healing (a difficult thing in chemo patients).
  3. for safety and an enjoyable trip for Vern and the children and special friend, Grandpa John, who is driving the moving truck.

Dr. Kris Ann, one of the fellows working with James, answering Carrie's question, "When can my Jamesie come home?" Later, she told me that all the children asked pretty much the same question when they were given an opportunity to ask.
In recovery, a well-loved James, comforted and doted on by his daddy, sister and big brother.
Dr. Kris Ann answers Vern's question, "So, what's your timetable?"
A sad sight--heading off into the proverbial sunset.
The little trooper recovering in his new room. We did call the surgeons about his new g-tube and it is now oriented a little differently so it doesn't cause him any unnecessary discomfort.

Love, Stephanie

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