Watching toenails grow.....

The highlight of my sister's week was a ride in the ambulance transporting her to a new hospital. She took pictures along the way, posting them to facebook, so we could all see how she spent her summer vacation. This summer vacation appears to be made up of scenes from looking inward, rather than outward. She had thought she would get a whole hour of freedom from IVs and medical jargon and medical staff. She had thought she would be allowed an hour drive to her new digs with her husband in their own little car. But I think the nurse overheard them plotting a trip through the McDonald's drive- through on their way to the new hospital. (Amy has had only ice chips for 2 weeks or so now. Her pancreas cannot process anything but that at this point.) So she was stuffed into an ambulance instead where she snapped pictures of the scenery along the way, and her toes.... toes she has spent weeks lying in bed contemplating.

This hospital is better acquainted with the procedures that may be necessary. It affords her at least new ceiling tiles to count. She is in too much discomfort and on too many pain pills to be able to read, or watch TV long. Visits are tiring, and she doesn't really feel up to them. The hours drag on as the doctors wait to determine that the pancreatic pseudocyst has hardened enough to drain. From what I could glean from the little research I did, it really is better to wait for the portions of the pancreas that die in pancreatitis to fully differentiate themselves from the healthy pancreas cells. This apparently does happen if the surgeon waits a few weeks, and the patient outcome is far better. But the waiting is not fun. Of course, it rarely is....not when the waiting includes deprivation.

I am flying out in a week and a half. At that point she should be done with her operation, home recuperating and I will come and be her slave for a few days. After going on a month in the hospital with a brief interlude between the two visits there, it is likely she has some chores that I could help with. Of course she told me not to come, to stay home and deal with the wedding plans of my son in a month. But all my obligations for that are almost done. I just had to finish the wedding painting which took an unfortunate turn yesterday.

I had sent photos of it to Matt and his lovely bride to be, Karissa, asking them for final critique. I wanted it to be perfect in their eyes. No one else's really matter. After writing down all their suggestions I had a two page list. Nothing was too major, but any one who has ever painted knows that if you change one thing on a painting, it sets off a creative domino effect. Slowly, every thing else has to change to support that one change. At one point yesterday, Asherel walked by and saw me lying on the floor pounding my head against the rug.

"How's the painting coming?" she called in.
"Don't look!" I cried, "Please don't come in!!!!"
She of course came in. And laughed. I had to laugh too. At that point, Matt looked just like a chipmunk. I had removed his lips to shorten his nose which I suddenly realized was a shade too long, and his teeth a little too crooked, and had not yet returned lips to his face. However, two massive Beaver-like front teeth gleamed unobstructed from any semblance of a human mouth.
"I've ruined it," I told Asherel. Nine months of painting down the drain.
Still chuckling, she walked away.
I felt almost as bereft as Amy.

So I went back to work. I worked all day on it, about 9 hours straight. Karissa had thought Matt looked fine before I had made the changes. It was Matt that had suggested the changes. So I sent them both the revised portrait. Karissa's mom, who was roped into consultation, thought perhaps I should ignore their suggestions as she felt it might have captured more of Matt's essence before. Matt however loved the revised Matt, and had one more tiny suggestion.
"Forget it," I wrote back, "I am done."

So the painting is finished, and for the record, I will never ever ever ever do another wedding portrait. And for the record, Amy will never ever ever ever have another ice chip after this ordeal is over.

I suspect looking back on both events, both of us will find the humor, the lessons learned, the silver lining. Retrospect is God's gift to the patient.

Deuteronomy 8: 2-3
² Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. ³ He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.