Stand

So, here we sit again in room 4 - literally the same room we were in last week. A day after getting home from the last round of disaster, she started having chest pain and Brandy had to bring her back in. 12 hours and a ridiculous number of ER people later, she was back in the hospital, and it's only gotten worse since. So, the report - she has a some kind of pnemonia we think but they can't do the diagnostic test because her platlets are low. Her platelets are low because she has this syndrome that is in essence eating her platelets. They can't give her more platelets because it just feed the fire. The fire was started by some kind of reaction to the anti-rejection meds, which she had just gone back on because her GVH response was so intense they couldn't keep her off them. The other things this syndrome are causing are confusion, kidney failure, and obviously low clotting because of the platelet loss. Thus, she can't go onto dialysis because her blood won't clot after the procedure, but her kidneys are in rough shape which makes it hard for the anti-rejection meds to break down, but they need to breakdown before she can get platelets again, and she needs platelets before they can do the test to find out what is in her lungs, making it necessary for her to be on oxygen. And so we wait. For her body to break this down, but not go into rejection, for the platelets to fall and the kidney enzymes to go up, but not faster than it takes for this stuff to get out of her. And all the while we try to stay sane and keep her taken care of because she knows us when she wakes up but sleeps unless we wake her up.

So quite literally, we are going to need a miracle to get through this one. People could say that the bone marrow transplant was medicine, that the GVH recovery was medicine, that the multiple myeloma recovery was medicine, and the million things she's gone in for in the past 7 years having to do with all that (even though I disagree), but when a top of the line doctor at the best of the best cancer treatment hospital says 'we have a diagnosis, but it's as scary if not more than the leukemia diagnosis' you pay attention. And when you ask him what they can do and he says 'at this point it's a God thing' you tell your brain not to freak out. And when you ask the statistics and he says that 95% of the people who have this do not make it, you tell your stomach not to throw up. And when you hear the 18 things that are going wrong and the 80 things that could go wrong depending on what order other things happen, and the immense insanity of all the things that need to go right lining up you tell your lungs not to hyperventilate. And then following that up about 4 seconds later you have to decide what life support you mom would want to go on if she needs to go on it and when she wouldn't want to and thus they should not do it irregardless of the consequences, you beg God to please give you a miracle.

So after an absurd amount of crying, begging, yelling, and talking to God (and a full day before I could even get the courage to write this) I've come to the point where can ask God for a miracle and say that I will stand on the promise that he is out Healer, and if that is not his will, I will be ok, but I will deal with it at the time. His mercies are new every morning, which means I can't ask for the mercies I may need down the road today. Hopefully I won't need them.

And having done all, stand (Eph 6:13)