Be Still

    Patience. That word again? I can be patient after I've had my coffee. Wait? You mean I have to wait for it to brew? I don't want to wait!

   I am not a very patient person. I am always needing to move, needing to act, needing to problem solve, needing to do anything but be still. Do you see the problem here?

   Recently, all I've done is wait: for my husband's CAT scan to be scheduled, for him to agree to get a cat (21 years, still nothing), for the scan results to reach the doctor—which took a week because we had to set up a patient profile, a detail my husband didn't pass on. Then there were more days waiting for a doctor’s appointment, and finally, struggling to schedule a biopsy.

   We finally got the biopsy results, then waited again for the oncologist. We had already gone in for fluids, steroids, and medication to lower my husband's calcium from a dangerous 15. We FINALLY made it to the diagnosis appointment. And now, more waiting.

   When someone is in the hospital and it's a complex case ... all you can do is wait and worry and cry. Wait, that's not quite right. All you can do is be still and wait.

   I'm at a friend's house, waiting for a reasonable hour to shower. Yes, I drink coffee before sunrise. Today I'll go to church, then head back to the ICU to wait with my husband. It's so hard. He's intubated and can't talk. We use yes/no and hand gestures, and I see his frustration as he waits for me to understand: "Get a nurse," "Turn the fan on/off," "Give me water." Water is a clear no. Telling him that didn't go well. I'd be mad too, having to wait for water until the tube comes out.

   It was while sitting with my husband that I realized, maybe part of the purpose of all this was to make us slow down and wait. I don't like it. I am tired of waiting. I want to hear my husband's voice again. I want to know that we are out of the woods. I want this stupid infection gone. Pseudomonas aeruginosa, a very aggressive, wicked form of pneumonia. It adapts quickly to antibiotics. It feasts upon the body. It doesn't wait for anything. It seeks to destroy. It acts with shrewd calculating intelligence. It demands aggressive treatment. I can’t wait for it to be gone.

   We now have to wait to start the cancer treatment until the pneumonia is cleared. But wait. It turns out that waiting on treatment was a good thing. IF we had finished the diagnosis/treatment conversation - if we had an appointment, just an hour earlier - my husband would have died. Pneumonia and chemo are not friends. We learned the diagnosis and were just beginning to discuss a treatment called CHOP when my husband went into AFIB. The AFIB (heart out of rhythm) was a sign he was entering into organ failure due to the pneumonia. It was beyond septic. His kidneys and liver were shutting down. Now, here is an example of when swift action is needed. There are times when you need to urgently act, and this was one of them. But my role was to wait. The medical professionals were the ones who needed to act.

   They got us to the ER, and then the longest, most agonizing wait of my life began. I pray and I try to turn things over to God, but often find my eyes drift to the monitor. I am trying not to focus on the monitor - that is not my job. My job is to be present for my husband and to pray.

   His job ... is to wait and heal. We have both been put in a situation where we must be still. While I have had my share of heartache, fear, and anger, I have mostly been calm. It's a strange sort of peace, and I know it can only come from God. So, I will do my human best to be still and ... wait.