Tuesday, November 27, 2012

November 27 – “Bad news / good news”


I had to make another hospital run yesterday.  One of our guys from church was scheduled for heart surgery.  Quadruple bypass.  They said he had five blockages, but they were only going to deal with four of them, perhaps because he also needed a new valve in his heart.  That was to be the “rest of the surgery.”  Something like that used to sound so critical.  I remember when my Dad had bypass surgery years ago.  I was in Denver when I found out, and the church up there basically told me to get out of town as fast as I could so I could be with him.  Joe’s wife said they told her that the odds of a catastrophic result of the surgery, even with the valve replacement added on, was only in the neighborhood of three to five percent.  That’s amazing.  It really helped their emotional approach to the situation, though. 

After Shirley’s family arrived, I went upstairs to check on Uncle Jerry’s status.  He had two surgeries to remove blood clots after one leg had so much blockage that it looked like it had gone ten rounds with the heavyweight champ of the world – black and blue and swollen.  At one point he was scheduled to go home yesterday.  When I got there, though, he was in excruciating pain.  He had just maneuvered from the bed to the chair in his room, and his pain had jumped to an almost unbearable level in his calf.  They were working to manage the pain, but he still faced a physical therapy session later in the day.  There was no way he would be heading home any time soon.  He lives in the West End of the Island, so he has to deal with lots of steps just to get inside his front door.  Looks like he will head to a rehab hospital for his next stop.

When he finally started dozing off, I headed back to check in on Shirley and her family.  They had settled in for the long haul.  The volunteer had informed them that the surgery could take a few hours longer than they had anticipated.  While we were talking I got a text from Chris.  She said Mom was “sitting on the side of her bed in Lala Land.”  I decided to head back home to see what help I could be on that front.  Three doses of pretty tough news to handle.  Gotta admit, it can start to wear at you. 

I got into the elevator and started a text to Chris to see how Mom was doing.  A young man in his early twenties jumped in right before the doors closed and took up his spot on the other side of the car.  I couldn’t help myself.  My people watching nature kicked in.  The guy was hunched over and seemed kind of fidgety.  His head stayed down, but his eyes were working overtime, darting back and forth.  For the most part, his behavior would have raised some sense of the suspicious in me, were it not for one thing.  He had this goofy grin on his face that he just couldn’t seem to turn off.  I had a hunch I knew where he was coming from.  Finally we made eye contact, and I smiled and greeted him.  His grin widened, and he straightened up to face me.  Forgetting elevator decorum, he went right past nodding and smiling and maybe offering a polite “hi.”  He went straight to “I just had a baby.”  That’s what I thought.  For the rest of the brief ride I got an earful of his origins (“I live in Alvin that’s where I met my wife and we got married there and now we have a baby”).  I did manage to ask two questions, “Is it a boy or a girl?” (“It’s a girl and she’s really healthy and that’s all that matters and she has ten fingers and ten toes”), and “What’s her name?”  That brought the widest smile of all as he proudly declared, “Rose Marie.”  Perfect name for a country girl from Alvin. 

The elevator doors opened and he went off in the other direction, grinning and mumbling to himself.  I walked toward my car with a new bounce in my step, humming and pondering the events of the day.  And I was amazed at how three bits of rough news could be put in perspective by this one simple announcement, “A baby has been born.”  Finding out about a total stranger’s baby girl had quite an effect on me in the midst of my bad news day.  Kind of sheds new light on God’s decision to explode into history as a baby rather than as a superstar.  He was concerned about affecting people’s hearts, not so much their politics.

Matthew 1:22-23 says, “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ -which means, ‘God with us.’”

Father, thank you for baby Rose Marie.  Guide her to a special place in your kingdom.  Amen.

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