March 2, Tuesday, part deux

Tuesday, March 2, part deux

I began my day knowing our main mission was to get home. As soon as I got to the hospital, I realized that if that was to be accomplished, we’d need to be pushing people forward all day. Push to see the doctors. Push for the prescriptions we’d need. Find out details about discharge. Obtain Jeff’s x rays to take to the surgeon in Anderson. Get Jeff “unplugged” from everything. Step by step everything was falling into place. Then the ortho dr suggested that we might want to just stay because they may be able to do the surgery the next day. We threw this back and forth for a while and decided to continue toward getting back home. Yay! Everything was working out perfectly. My sister, Sherri and her husband, Tim were on their way. They had folded down the seats in their van and had a mattress in the back with pillows and blankets for Jeff to lay on as we drove home. They were almost there. Jeff was dressed and waiting for the wheelchair which they’d called for some time ago. I couldn’t sit still. Pacing back and forth, I saw the wheelchair round the corner at the nurses station. Yippee! It paused there. Stopped. Then turned around and left! Wait! What? I hurried over to the nurse and inquired. They had brought the wrong one. Well, of course they did! Par for the course. Thirty minutes later, they were back. We loaded up and were off! We slid Jeff into the back of the van and up onto the mattress. What a trouper! He did most of the work. He was ready to be home.

We got home around 4:00. Daddy met us as we got there with kindling and newspapers under his arm. He knew his little girl loved a good fire and he was offering a most unique and effective form of comfort for me. I love him. We got Jeff into the recliner, a pillow under his leg. My sister Gina and her husband, Chuck brought over lasagna and garlic toast, Mom brought a salad and I was most grateful. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a real meal. Over a week, at least. It was wonderful. Home. Family. Food. Basic needs.
Later that night Gwen and Schuyler brought home care “stuff” and we got to visit with them some. Special friends. We had much to be thankful for last night, things we don’t usually recognize as blessings. I imagined how different it would have been if I had just finished a funeral instead of a five-day stay in the hospital. How did God decide to spare me that grief? Why? Even as I pause here to consider and shake my head as I come up with no answers, I can rest. I am the child of the ultimate protector. And yet He allowed Jeff to be severely traumatized. Here’s the great part about trusting the Lord. I don’t have to understand. It doesn’t have to make sense. I don’t have to prepare for the future. All I have to do is rest. It is a choice, really. I will trust Him or I will fret. For now, I choose to trust.