On the 3rd day, and after we were told by Dr. G to prepare for the worst, Dr. M walked in the room with a big, toothy smile. He made my heart immediately jump for joy as he briskly walked past me to greet Carl. What a difference in the auras emanating from these two men. Darkness had left the room as the light of hope took over as we waited with bated breath to hear what he was going to say.
He pulls a chair up close to where I was sitting as I held Carl’s hand and quietly explains that since they could not stop the swelling of Carl’s brain, a Craniotomy would relieve pressure inside the skull. It was a surgery that would literally remove a portion of his skull to diminish the stress and it needed to be done right away. He explained the surgery should take about four hours and that he did not foresee any complications or negative outcomes. He explained how the nurses would be coming to get Carl to prepare him for the operation and that I should rest easy. For the first time, I felt an overwhelming surge of hope springing from his words and couldn’t stop myself from giving Dr. M a heartfelt hug, showing my appreciation as best as I could through my tears.
“When the enemy comes in like a flood, The Spirit of the Lord will lift up a standard against him.” NKJV Isaiah 59:19
The next two hours seemed to linger forever before the nurses and staff came to get him prepped for surgery. Tom and I were shown into the surgical waiting room where we found nothing to read and a television that only ran ads for the hospital! Has any of the administration ever had to use this room? We were held captive, but because we were so nervous, we took our seats quietly as both of our minds began searching for relief. We prayed together, both asking The Lord to watch over the hands of all those involved, for Dr. M and all of his team. We just wanted Carl to be able to come home with us to begin rehabilitation. It was the longest four hours I have ever experienced in my life as if time literally stood still.
Then, without warning, Dr. M bounded through the waiting room doors, smiling, with great enthusiasm saying that it all went well and that Carl should be back to ICU within 30 to 45 minutes! Relief filled the air as Tom and I were able to breathe once again. Thank you, Lord is all we could say at that point in the day. That day…well, it was a very good day.
A Note If you have been reading previous chapters in this blog, you’ll know Carl was in a coma… so you might ask what I meant by Dr. M ‘greeted Carl’? If you have done any research on comas you’ll find a variation of ‘opinions’ about whether or not a person in a coma can hear when people talk to them. As a Christian, I have to believe there is a possibility, so I instructed all the nurses not to speak any negativity whatsoever while they were in the room with Carl and to greet him as they would any other patient. I assumed they passed that request to Dr. M and I was so grateful. Maybe they can’t hear…but what if they can?
My thoughts are to air on the side of ‘what if’. ‘What if’ your loved one can hear what’s being said in the room? In my opinion, if there is even the slightest chance they can, don’t we owe it to them to greet them when we walk into the room to acknowledge their presence, to read to them, to love on them? If we put ourselves in their place, I believe we’d all pretty much agree we would want to hear the voices of those we love and to be respected as human beings. What are your thoughts?
Nugget: When trauma hits, be prepared for the worst, fight back when you must and always be on the lookout for the Dr. M’s of the world. When life’s cracks open up wide and about to consume you, trust in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob by knowing that no matter what happens, He is with you. No matter what, there is always something to be thankful for and on that day, we were thankful for the good Dr. M.