May 18, I received a phone call from the doctor’s physician’s assistant who was very kind and very concerned about Dad because he was still so agitated. Every time they tried to wake him up more, he became upset and they’d have to sedate him again. The problem was that Dad needed to be off the sedation to be able to actually breathe on his own. The ventilator was currently working as backup, but Dad’s continued progress depended upon him waking up.
The physician's assistant listened as I told her that Dad was recognizing Mom’s voice, but he hadn’t heard from her for those six days when he first got there. She said she would try to work something out so that Mom could speak to Dad daily in the evenings!
I sent out an SOS e-mail to ask people to really pray for God to wake Dad up.
During the weeks of writing my e-mail updates, almost every time someone on my list wrote back me, it was positive and encouraging. But that night, one of the responses I received basically told me—Listen, we knew this would take months and your Dad is better off than some people.
Looking back, I probably did sound like a whiny baby, but just reading that note felt so discouraging. By now, I was so exhausted from the stress of the ups and downs and the complete uncertainty, not to mention trying to get information about Dad and phone calls from Mom to Dad, that I was pretty close to a breaking point. Rereading my journal now, I realize how bad I was as the overwhelming amount of stress from the past 7 weeks threatened to crush me. Yes, Dad was out of the woods, but if he couldn’t come back to us as Dad, then he would rather have gone to Heaven than be stuck in a nursing home on a ventilator tube. What had we done!?!
To make matters worse, someone I knew had told lots of people about Dad's illness in what felt like a gossipy way. And she’d even encouraged her friend to send me a story about someone else who had COVID but was miraculously healed because people at the church were praying. FYI, it is never a good idea to send people who are suffering stories about people who are miraculously cured! I was livid.
I kept trying to remind myself that God knew what He was doing. But I felt like we’d gotten a lot of little miracles, just not the big miracle I wanted—Dad to wake up and be OK! I felt like giving up.
Mom called to tell me that the night nurse (not Sam) did try to call, but she hit the wrong button and the call didn’t go through. I wanted to say “Really, God? You couldn’t just let her touch the right button?” I felt like God was just playing games with us, like a cat who releases the mouse only to pounce again and prolong the fun. I was mad that we had praised Him for getting Dad to the rehab hospital, but it felt like a bait-and-switch trick. This place was even worse about getting calls than the hospital.
By now, (Tuesday, May 19) Mom had sunk pretty low, too. This was the worst she’d been, as far as I could tell from just our daily phone calls. Dad had been in the rehab hospital for 12 days now and Mom had been able to talk to him only 4 of those days, thanks to Sam’s kindness. She called me at 9:20 p.m. that evening to let me know that she had waited by the phone all evening, but no one called. Unfortunately, when she originally called the nurses’ station, she got the same nurse who had bluntly told me that Dad might never come back to us. The nurse rudely told Mom that she was too busy for something like phone calls and she would see what she could do. “She never even meant to try,” Mom said, and I had to agree with her.
God seemed so far away at this point, but then He gave me some verses to cling to, just when I needed them the most!
I wrote:
Dear Friends and Family,
If my calculations are correct, today is day 50 since Dad was first hospitalized on March 30. It has been a long 50 days and we have no idea how much longer this will stretch out. Dad is still doing OK. He was breathing well this morning, but then had to depend on the ventilator this afternoon as his breathing grew more labored. But the nurse assured me that this is all part of the process and all of the COVID patients have experienced similar issues. Dad is still agitated, too. Mom wasn't able to talk to him last night. The nurse tried but couldn't get the tablet to connect correctly. Please pray that Mom can talk to Dad tonight.
I have to admit that the past few days have been hard and discouraging. We knew Dad's recovery would be a long process, what we didn't plan on was how hard we would need to fight just to get information and a once-a-day phone call. It feels like this whole situation with Dad has been one fight after another for him. Is God big enough to handle my questions and doubts? Yes, He is. And now, when I am reminded that there is really nothing else I can do, I must keep trusting in the darkness. "Let the one who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the LORD and rely on their God." Isaiah 50:10
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