Fighting a Mighty Wave

This was another long and exhaustive day spent at the hospital with my family. My grandmother's health continued to deteriorate throughout the day, until the doctors finally gathered us together and gave us dire news. Grandma was becoming septic due to a perforation in her bowel and needed immediate surgery in order to save her life. We were all unsure about whether she would agree to the surgery, but grateful when she did. We gathered around her to encourage her to fight hard and come back to us. She promised us that she would try. And she did. She came through the surgery, and is currently in ICU in critical condition. The doctors have told us that they are doing absolutely everything that they can for her, and now it is up to her and God. She has a long and difficult battle ahead. Even if she survives, her recovery will be weeks or months long, and will be painful. As a family, we are unsure of what to pray for. All I can do is pray that God's will be done. I must give this to God, because I cannot fight this fight for her. 

After I arrived home after 11 pm tonight, I realized that I have not looked at any lesson plans for this week. I picked up my guide, and flipped to tomorrow's lesson---Unit 2, Day 1 (On a TUESDAY, may I point out! I wish I could scratch my brain, it's all sorts of itchy!) I turned to the appendix to find our poem for this unit, and as I read, the tears began to well, and then drip, and then pour, until I was sobbing. I have not really cried all day, wanting to stay level-headed and try to understand what the doctor's were telling us. The recurring theme throughout the entire day has been that Grandma must fight. She must find her inner strength and fight this with every thing she has. 

Here is our poem for this week in Bigger Hearts for His Glory.

The Ship That Sails

I'd rather be the ship that sails

And rides the billows wild and free;

Than to be the ship that always fails

To leave its port and go to sea.

I'd rather feel the sting of strife, 

Where gales are born and tempests roar;

Than to settle down to useless life

And rot in dry dock on the shore.

I'd rather fight some mighty wave 

With honor in supreme command;

And fill at last a well-earned grave,

Than to die in ease upon the sand.

I'd rather drive where sea storms blow, 

And be the ship that always failed.

To make the ports where it would go,

Than be the ship that never sailed.

------Anonymous

After her surgery, the respiratory tech told us that her ventilator was forcing Grandma to take at least 12 breaths a minute, but that she was taking 20 breaths a minute, so she is taking at least 8 per minute on her own. My grandma is fighting a mighty wave, and I know that whether she survives this fight or not, she won't be the ship that never sailed.