Whenever it's time to go home from the hospital I always think of the nursery rhyme from which this line is derived. I don't know why, I just do. I've been using it to let people on facebook know that Adam is home from the hospital again as I don't usually make it public knowledge that he's in until we're out.
We came home Tuesday at five thirty. I had hoped to be home earlier, but we had to wait for a ct scan and he had to have his two o'clock dose of antibiotics before we could leave. That night, the nurses came to teach me how to give the meds through the PICC line. All the supplies I would need were delivered at six thirty and the nurses came at seven. One was the teacher, the other was new to the company and was here to learn paperwork and procedures. They were really nice and made the learning easy. We had tea together as we waited for the ten o'clock dose to be given, which I gave to Adam. They wanted to be sure I knew how to do it.
Today is the last day for these meds. Tomorrow the visiting infusion nurse will come and pull out the PICC line. We will do the Happy Dance! Adam wants to go driving, and if he feels well after the nurse leaves, out we will go.
You might think that after all that's happened, the rest of Adam's recovery should be a breeze, but this is not so. Adam is particularly sensitive to the changing pressures inside his brain. Oftentimes after seasons of surgeries like this one, it takes many, many weeks for his brain and body to acclimate to the new system. He has frequent headaches and vomiting and sometimes this goes on and on until his brain finally accepts the new shunt system. I'm praying the time is short and he recovers quickly. It's hard watching him suffer. All I can do is give pain and anti nausea drugs, hold him, and pray.
Sometimes it's hard finding the balance between trusting God for healing and accepting what is going on.
I don't know how anyone else does it, but I have learned to accept what is, and lean on God while we go through it. I don't really understand the "name it and claim it" kind of faith. It's never seemed to work for me, and when I tried that approach to our circumstances, all it did was leave me hypercritical of myself for not having enough faith for Adam to be healed. When I've heard the Father speak into our difficulties, it was never that I didn't have enough faith, it was always that he's with me to bring me through to the other side of the "valley of the shadow of death". Shadow of death. Not the actual valley of death. We've been close a number of times, but Adam is still here and we're so very thankful.
I remember a particular season during the summer of 2004, what I call the year from hell, when Adam was much younger and had a season of surgeries much like this last one. I was hanging laundry and crying to the Lord, and weeping for the suffering of a little boy who could not understand any of it, or even talk about it. He had very little language then, much less than what he has now. All he could communicate was by screaming "MY HEAD, MY HEAD" and holding it with both hands. As I was talking to God and yelling to God and screaming a bit myself about why he gave me this child if it was only to take him away, and did I ask him for this child, he quietly spoke to me and gave me a scripture passage to look up. So I did. Here it is; 2 Kings 4:8-37. I won't put the whole story here, but it's the story of the Shunemite woman and her son. The child is a gift to her from the Lord because of her many kindnesses to Elisha when he comes to her town. One day while the boy was in the fields with his father, he fell ill and cried out "My head, my head!". And lay down in his mother's lap and died. She put her son in the prophet's room, shut the door and said that no one was to enter there, and went to get Elisha. She would not speak to anyone but him, and when she did, she said " Did I ask you for a son?". She would not leave and go home until Elisha agreed to go with her. He prayed for the child and the boy was raised from death and was given back to his mother.
I was bowled over by the goodness of the Lord to show me in his word how he was with us in all that was happening, and I believed that Adam would survive. It didn't shorten the suffering, and he wasn't miraculously healed. What did happen was that my heart was healed. God stopped by while I was hanging laundry and spoke to me through his word and let me know that he's always here. Not just near, but here. I have learned to lean, as someone has said. When my strength fails, or even when I'm strong, I lean on the One who is stronger still. He will not fail to keep my head above the water and will rescue me from the fire. And we are home again, home again, jiggetty jog. God is good, all the time.
Thanks for coming along on this journey with me. I enjoy your company so much. Blessings and peace to my readers today.
We came home Tuesday at five thirty. I had hoped to be home earlier, but we had to wait for a ct scan and he had to have his two o'clock dose of antibiotics before we could leave. That night, the nurses came to teach me how to give the meds through the PICC line. All the supplies I would need were delivered at six thirty and the nurses came at seven. One was the teacher, the other was new to the company and was here to learn paperwork and procedures. They were really nice and made the learning easy. We had tea together as we waited for the ten o'clock dose to be given, which I gave to Adam. They wanted to be sure I knew how to do it.
Today is the last day for these meds. Tomorrow the visiting infusion nurse will come and pull out the PICC line. We will do the Happy Dance! Adam wants to go driving, and if he feels well after the nurse leaves, out we will go.
You might think that after all that's happened, the rest of Adam's recovery should be a breeze, but this is not so. Adam is particularly sensitive to the changing pressures inside his brain. Oftentimes after seasons of surgeries like this one, it takes many, many weeks for his brain and body to acclimate to the new system. He has frequent headaches and vomiting and sometimes this goes on and on until his brain finally accepts the new shunt system. I'm praying the time is short and he recovers quickly. It's hard watching him suffer. All I can do is give pain and anti nausea drugs, hold him, and pray.
Sometimes it's hard finding the balance between trusting God for healing and accepting what is going on.
I don't know how anyone else does it, but I have learned to accept what is, and lean on God while we go through it. I don't really understand the "name it and claim it" kind of faith. It's never seemed to work for me, and when I tried that approach to our circumstances, all it did was leave me hypercritical of myself for not having enough faith for Adam to be healed. When I've heard the Father speak into our difficulties, it was never that I didn't have enough faith, it was always that he's with me to bring me through to the other side of the "valley of the shadow of death". Shadow of death. Not the actual valley of death. We've been close a number of times, but Adam is still here and we're so very thankful.
I remember a particular season during the summer of 2004, what I call the year from hell, when Adam was much younger and had a season of surgeries much like this last one. I was hanging laundry and crying to the Lord, and weeping for the suffering of a little boy who could not understand any of it, or even talk about it. He had very little language then, much less than what he has now. All he could communicate was by screaming "MY HEAD, MY HEAD" and holding it with both hands. As I was talking to God and yelling to God and screaming a bit myself about why he gave me this child if it was only to take him away, and did I ask him for this child, he quietly spoke to me and gave me a scripture passage to look up. So I did. Here it is; 2 Kings 4:8-37. I won't put the whole story here, but it's the story of the Shunemite woman and her son. The child is a gift to her from the Lord because of her many kindnesses to Elisha when he comes to her town. One day while the boy was in the fields with his father, he fell ill and cried out "My head, my head!". And lay down in his mother's lap and died. She put her son in the prophet's room, shut the door and said that no one was to enter there, and went to get Elisha. She would not speak to anyone but him, and when she did, she said " Did I ask you for a son?". She would not leave and go home until Elisha agreed to go with her. He prayed for the child and the boy was raised from death and was given back to his mother.
I was bowled over by the goodness of the Lord to show me in his word how he was with us in all that was happening, and I believed that Adam would survive. It didn't shorten the suffering, and he wasn't miraculously healed. What did happen was that my heart was healed. God stopped by while I was hanging laundry and spoke to me through his word and let me know that he's always here. Not just near, but here. I have learned to lean, as someone has said. When my strength fails, or even when I'm strong, I lean on the One who is stronger still. He will not fail to keep my head above the water and will rescue me from the fire. And we are home again, home again, jiggetty jog. God is good, all the time.
Thanks for coming along on this journey with me. I enjoy your company so much. Blessings and peace to my readers today.
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