Part 8 – Home and Healing
The day John came home, almost a month after he’d left for a motorcycle ride, was a day of rejoicing…mostly. I was also scared to death. No doctors, no nurses. Just me to look after my man.
During the next few weeks, I changed his dressing on his icky leg wound, I made sure he took his myriad of pills, I took him to his outpatient rehab and I drove him to the doctor each and every morning to have his blood checked because of the blood thinner medication he was on.
We both believed God was in control, but it was a constant battle to rise above circumstances and keep a positive attitude. Doctor Doom was the one who checked his blood every day. (That’s not his real name.) Maybe he was having trouble in his marriage or maybe he was dealing with painful hemorrhoids, but he never, ever encouraged us. In fact, one day John and I went to his office feeling great. John’s numbers showed that his blood was too thin and Dr. Doom told John to be very, very careful because one tiny little wound could land him back in the hospital fighting for his life. No kidding. We went back to the car and sat there, shell shocked. It wasn’t a coincidence that my brother Phil texted us at that moment. He said something like “Don’t let the medical community dictate your future – God knows more than any doctor!”
We sat in the parking lot and prayed and cried and told God we leaned on Him, not Dr. Doom.
Although I did my best to change the leg wound dressing correctly, the wound got infected and all black. The day I changed it and smelled something gross, I ushered John into the car and we went to Dr. Doom who hemmed and hawed and then sent us to a wound specialist.
In one of the appointments to see the wound doctore, he used a huge needle to suck out 10 ccs of John’s blood clot under the wound. I’ve never seen John in such horrific pain. Right after, a nurse using a monotone voice asked, “Was your pain sharp, dull or throbbing?”
John and I glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
He replied through tears, “How about screaming like a little girl?”
John had to have leg surgery in March which brought more drugs and more recovery. After the surgery, the Wound Vac was introduced to us and we fell in love with this miracle device that brought healing quickly. The first time we were to use it, some home health care nurses with southern accents came to the house to show us. They didn’t seem to be experts at it.
I asked them if they’d ever hooked up a wound vac before. Silence. Then one said, “Not many.” She picked up the user’s manual and began reading.
Once again John and I exchanged glances. Two guttural noises arose. And then we laughed. About the time we quieted down, one of the nurses in an Alabama accent casually said, “Boy, they sure do have a lot of gadgets in this.”
After three hours and two tries, they succeeded.
One step forward, two steps back.
One of the leaps forward took place in February. We were just hanging out at the house and John was doing some puzzles that his outpatient cognitive therapist wanted him to work on. Remember, when he was in the hospital it took him an hour to finish one of these and even then he often got something wrong.
John finished his puzzles and said, “Robbie, come check this.”
I looked through the two puzzles and announced, “You got them all correct.”
My husband looked at me with a strange look and then smiled. “Guess how long it took me to do both of those.”
“I have no idea, honey.”
The cognitive therapist had initially told John he would work with her 3 times a week for 6-8 weeks. After 2 weeks, John was deemed fine to go back to work part time.
God heals. Not always, but in John’s situation God said, YES.”
John’s accident was on December 28th.
He came home from rehab on January 22nd.
God healed his brain (at least we saw healing through the puzzles) on February 9th.
John went back to work part time on February 17th. We were in His arms.
John’s leg surgery was on March 4th – two more days in the hospital.
John went back to work full time on April 8th.
And through it all, every moment of uncertainty, pain, fear, joy and relief - we were IN HIS ARMS!
All glory to God for His healing and His mercy on our family!
(Come back, Tuesday, December 28th, the 2nd year anniversary of his accident with my final post in this series – “It’s Not a Bag of Snakes.”)