Update

What a week. 

Ian's beautiful mama just returned to Arizona after weeks of being by his side. She will be dearly missed. We are so thankful for the precious time we had with her and for the many, many nights she stayed up guarding Ian's life and comfort like only a mom can do ❤️

 

Ian's morphine dose kept increasing to cover his pain, and with it came increasing loopiness and dillusional mumbling and loud, random morphine voices tormenting his head. They finally switched him to a different pain med and he became more and more lucid as the morphine drained from his system. We are so thankful to have Ian's mind closer to being back in working order again. 

Ian's intestines have also surprisingly come back to life this past week and things are moving once again. He has been vomiting a lot ever since, however, and getting in and out of the bedside commode is a lot of painful labor for someone whose been bedridden for weeks. His belly has now returned to normal size and he can sit and stand upright. In spite of great pain, he has been working hard to strengthen and re-condition his body with yoga/stretching exercises. He even walked two laps around the floor yesterday, twice! 

If you had seen him try to walk just a few days ago, you would understand the triumph. He tried walking maybe ten feet down the hall and back a couple times, but his swollen belly required him to hunch over like an elderly man and his bedridden body trembled as it labored to take each step. The nurse was so nervous, she didn't think he should try it again without a walker. What a contrast to this picture from yesterday:

Look at that straight back and smile hiding under the mask! 

The girls and I have had our ups and downs. 

Asha was thrilled to find a SIX leaf clover the other day. She has mostly been her sweet joyful self, obsessed with cats and nature and reading and correcting her little sister and an intense longing to connect with people and play with friends. We are back into some semblance of rhythm doing homeschool in the mornings and visiting Ian in the afternoons/evenings. 

Fiona has been my little Eeyore, finding deep sadness in every bump and bruise and imperfect drawing and unfulfilled desire. She misses friends and playgrounds and her Sunday school class and the "old days when Abba wasn't sick." 

She has also come out of her shell of shyness and has learned the joy of sweetly saying hello and brightening the faces of random strangers as we walk the hospital hallways and ride the hospital elevators. She basks in the adoration of her Abba and the nurses and doctors on Ian's floor. There's so much love there, she feels it and shines brighter in it. 

Though Ian's bowels are moving and the distension in his stomach is much better, he still can't eat and continues to be in severe pain from the typhlitis. Pooping hasn't really helped the pain at all, and may be adding to it. Deep sleep comes rarely and is often quickly interrupted by pain or nurses. They also recently found staph infection in his blood. All in all, he's still unltra vulnerable and in extreme pain most of the time. The doctors offered to stop TPN (IV nutrition) today, moving him to the level of hospice comfort care, but Ian was horrified at the thought. 

It's amazing he's still alive and fighting with such stamina. He refuses to give up hope of walking out of that hospital.  I must confess, I've been ready to throw in the towel several times this week. There are times I feel so overwhelmed and exhausted trying to be there for everyone. Walking blindfolded on this seemingly endless line of unknown tomorrows feels way too scary, way too out of my control. But maybe that is part of my training, learning to let go of the illusion of control and lean into the tension of trust. 

Although it's entirely possible, I'm no longer as worried about Ian slipping away overnight. This guy's got a lot of fight left in him. The Lord clearly isn't finished with him yet...

Thank you for your prayers. Please keep them flowing.