Had It Not Been For That Stroke

When God gifts you with the ability to artfully craft words in such a way that they strike a chord with people, not everything that you share will flow or be easy to share. Sometimes circumstances and situations are not resolved and tied up neatly with a feel good, warm and fuzzy bow. Sometimes it's in the heartache and brokenness that you share lessons as they are being taught. Sometimes you struggle, wondering if your words are hyperbolic or if there are literal lessons others are meant to hear and walk away with from your brokenness. Sometimes it is by way of kicking and screaming, dragging your feet and shaking your head "no" that God wants you to share. And so, that's where I've found myself lately. 

On December 10th, our lives would be forever changed, even though the full impact of that day is still being realized. After almost a week in the hospital and momma not there to stay my frustration, I forcefully told dad's doctor that his treatment had been unacceptable and bordered on medical neglect. Just the pronouncement of those words seemed to set a series of events in motion as the doctor stepped out of the room to call patient advocacy services. I was sure she was calling security after I stated, "Do NOT let her leave until I go get mom!" to my little brother as I ran down the hallway to debrief mom as she got off the elevator. 

The next 36hrs are even more of a blur than what would follow as tests were ramped up and a frenzy of activity landed us at one conclusion - due to the blockage of his arteries, daddy would need stints in his neck and possible brain surgery to prevent a massive stroke. The symptoms we had been living with were TIAs - transient ischemic attack. Mini-strokes, if you will, causing pain in his shoulder and temporary brain farts in his communications. TIAs are often overlooked and explained away. I encourage EVERYONE this reaches to look into them and educate yourselves because you could save your life or a loved one's life.

The morning of the surgery we were well aware of possible risks and outcomes. We anxiously sat in that waiting room for word from the doctor. And finally, that word would come hours after the time period we had been given. The stinting went well but. Life is always experienced in the buts.... But, some of the plaque had broken free and "bumped around on his neuro-receptors..." In essence, the lifesaving surgery had caused a minor stroke, the effects of which we wouldn't know until daddy would wake up. What we did know was that he had to be restrained - something that anyone who knows my daddy knows is VERRRRRY against his character. 

Having spent an excruciating weekend in the ICU of that hospital 8yrs before, to walk in and see those same rooms, those same machines and hear those same sounds, snapped me right back to that weekend. Only this time, it was my daddy laying in that bed, restrained, having difficulty waking up. Because of the situation, we were not allowed to stay with him that night. 

Mom and Mike would beat me to the hospital the next morning. I had planned on going in later until my baby brother called me in tears. Daddy didn't know them when they walked in. (He would shortly recognize momma, his bride of 51yrs, even though he still didn't know her name.) Was this what our new life would look like? I rushed to the hospital with a very different day than I had planned. To my surprise though, daddy recognized Hope - his only granddaughter and the apple of his eye. As the morning progressed, daddy recognized Mike and me, though he didn't know our names. His words were jumbled and there were hints of fear that I had NEVER seen on his face before. Never. 

I was very careful with what I shared with the kids. That night as he was moved to the floor and our family descended in that room, my eyes were on him the whole time. There was a quietness about him that was different than it had been. But we were thankful that he had not lost any of his physical abilities, including his gross motor skills and life skills. I could tell that he was growing tired so after a couple hours with the grands, I quietly ushered them to leave. I didn't blame them for all wanting to lay their eyes on him to see that their Pawpaw was "ok".

The next morning would open the Pandora's box we have been living in for the last 6 months. Aphasia is the medical term - reflective AND perceptive. That's when a patient can't perceive the verbal information they are given and they can't reflect verbal information in a way that makes sense. There are pathways that have been damaged, leaving the patient literally locked inside of their head with NO cognitive issues but unable to communicate with ease as they once had. Intensive speech therapy and TIME are the only treatments for these conditions. 

We left there with a new med, a blood thinner, to prevent clotting around the stint and instructions to begin therapy ASAP. Two a week multi-hour therapy sessions would be worked into mom and dad's schedule as life continued on around them. The death of my sole living grandparent. The divorce of my son. The fallout of situations and circumstances all around us. Yet we all continued putting one foot in front of the other as we begged God to shine down on that glitter I so aptly spoke of just 8yrs ago when we lost Aunt Suzie. His goodness. His faithfulness. It has been so hard to see through all the tears. 

Until. Until I would sit in another waiting room with momma and my baby brother last Thursday. This time? Emergency heart cath. Daddy, who has made remarkable progress to the point that others have no idea of the journey he's been on, had been experiencing some chest pain. His long time cardiologist felt, from tests performed, that he knew exactly which artery was causing the issue. That was not the case once he got in there. 

You see, the small artery had been stinted once and we were going in that morning to stint it again. However, after being unable to get through the plaque, the doctor saw something utterly terrifying. One of the major vessels toward the backside of daddy's heart was 90% blocked. 50% of patients in this situation die on the table, whether in the stint process OR in bypass surgery. So the doctor took his chances and was able to successfully stint an artery none of us had suspected. 

As we waited for him to wake up, the truth of where we were came down on me like a ton of bricks. Had it not been for that stroke and that extra blood thinner, the vessel would have most certainly ruptured by now, causing daddy to bleed out before an ambulance could get to him, much less doctors be able to figure out what was going on with him. 

And there it was. Glitter in the most unlikely of places. God's goodness, faithfulness and providence brought BY WAY OF the hard circumstance.

I do not profess to know how all of these situations in our lives will play out or if they will be resolved in ways that we want them to be. But I can tell you that without the hard, I would live a rootless and fast paced life without much significance. I would miss the glints of glitter meant to remind me that God is ALWAYS in control. I would glide along without much thought given to exactly how faithful He is in orchestrating events for our good and His glory. I would skip my morning meetings with The One who holds my future securely in His hands. I would not be brought to my knees only to experience His peace as the storms continue rage all around me. 

There are times in our lives when we feel like we are only coming up for short breaths amongst the waves. Times when our arms feel heavy from the weight of our world seeming to crash down on us. Times when there seems to be more ashes than beauty. Times when we struggle and cry out, "Where are You? I can't see You through the tears." Times when we embody Romans 8:26 - "And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words." Times of groaning, begging to see that one provision of His goodness, planted where we last suspected and never wanted it to be. 

For me, it was in the realization that God used that stupid stroke to save my daddy's life. Reminding me that "faith is trusting in advance what will only make sense in reverse."