November 7 – “A bit of a new perspective”

Let me start out on an ethereal plane.  Last night I was in bed working a crossword puzzle.  I was in that realm just before sleep where dreams and hallucinations mix with and muddle the line between fantasy and reality.  I noticed out of the corner of my eye a movement over by the bedroom door.  Shifting my drowsy focus I was instantly able to recognize the figure stepping across the doorway and heading back toward our blue bedroom.  It was quite beautiful.  And graceful.  And had long, flowing hair.  Red hair.  Wait.  I know her.  Yep.  It was none other than Christi.  Great to have you visit, Christi, but next time go ahead and wake us up first so you don’t have to sneak into the bedroom. 

 

Now, on to more earthly things.  I stumbled across a bit of a new perspective yesterday.  It was rolling around in my head and finally made its way to the surface.  The elusive way of looking at things involved the new pain I spoke about yesterday.  See, my head was all wrapped around that casual thought tossed out by the neurosurgeon at one of my pre-surgical visits.  “We’ll do the surgery on Thursday, send you home that evening, take it easy over the weekend, and you’ll be good to go by Monday.”  Yep, I remember that one.  If you are a budding neurosurgeon, please be careful what you say to your patients.  They/We have selective hearing. 

 

I guess I should have re-evaluated my expectations when the surgery was changed to a Monday.  That messed up all prior “over the weekend” calculations anyway.  But here is the new perspective.  I remembered that I have had three or four neck surgeries in the past.  The first one took a good six months to recover from.  The others weren’t quite so long, but then they weren’t four days, by any means.  My knee replacement was a pretty easy one to recover from the surgery itself, but the ensuing physical therapy lasted for months.  Why would I not expect a major surgery on a portion of my back –a portion that isn’t usually involved in the type of issue I had, AND which is also really near the spinal cord - to take more than a weekend to fully recover from? 

 

Adopting this new perspective has allowed me to ease back a step or two on my personal rehab scheduling.  Maybe I do need to just rest for a day or two before jumping headlong into a walking regimen.  Maybe I should stick to the few laps around the interior of the house instead of trying to reach the end of the street and then a mile and beyond.  Maybe I should use the grabber Corey and Janell loaned me (Thanks, guys.  I love it, by the way) instead of trying to sneak a covert bend-over to reach for my shoes, like I’m getting away with sneaking a piece of forbidden candy or something.  OK.  I get it.  But for the record … I don’t particularly like it.

 

Hebrews 11:6 says, “And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”

 

Father, please grant me some patience as I deal with the little gains and setbacks that come after any surgery.  Amen.

November 6 – “Day Three Crash”

I suppose you have never heard of the “Day Three Crash”?  I didn’t really remember it from any of my previous surgeries, but I imagine it probably happened.  It’s when, on Day Three post-surgery, something comes up, some little or large, nagging or debilitating, just-enough-to-cause-you-worry something. 

 

In my case it hit with a vengeance when my feet hit the floor yesterday morning.  I had an ache in my sides that felt like a very large brick had dropped right onto that spot.  It wasn’t the sharp, knife-stabbing pain that started this whole ordeal, but it was in essentially the same general area.  Except this time it was on both sides of my body.  Equal opportunity, you know. I think my left side felt left out last time, so it had to make its presence known.  It wasn’t as bad as the right side, though.  Now, it didn’t knock me to the floor or anything.  That would have been … unfortunate.  And I was able to find positions where it went away entirely.  Lying down was nice.  Most sitting positions were fine as well.  It was just that dreaded attempt to stand that threatened to take me out every time. 

 

Chris convinced me to take Tylenol to help deal with it.  That was the heavy pain killer they prescribed when I left the hospital.  And it did help.  I even did a few “Astros game laps.”  That’s where I walk in circles around the house during the commercials of the Astros game.  The pain was ever-lurking just beneath the surface, though.  I finally decided that it might be best to just stay off my feet as much as possible. 

 

Chris suggested that I call the neurosurgeon’s office today and see what they have to say about it.  Problem is, it’s just not that bad this morning.  That’s how it usually works, right?  I know I’m moving carefully, and maybe that’s how I should have been moving all along.  I’m beginning to think today that I should just wait it out and see if the Day Three Crash is pretty much confined to the third day.  We’ll see how it goes between now and when the office opens, I guess. 

 

Meanwhile I enjoyed reading through the card I received from the folks at church last Sunday.  Lauren brought it to the hospital with her.  I also received a card from some Seasiders in Missouri.  Thanks, O’Neal’s, for thinking about me.  Looking forward to seeing you guys soon.  Oh, and my buddy who lives in the frozen Northlands messaged me as well.  Sent me some gifs of the Packers football team exercise regimen.  Not quite ready for that kind of bending yet, Gary … 

 

1 John 4:15 says, “If anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in them and they in God.”

 

Father, thank you for the folks who have expressed their love and concern.  Bless them for that.  Amen.

November 5 – “Here’s hoping …”

Day Two after surgery was pretty boring.  I’m hoping the action taking place on the inside of my body was more exciting than the events on the outside.  Now don’t get me wrong.  I did accomplish two things.  I walked half a block down and back from the house.  That’s a start.  I also completed our latest jigsaw puzzle.  Well, I can’t take all the credit for that one.  Chris finished it. And did a lot of work on it.  So did Lauren and Larry and anybody else who sat at the table.  All were welcome.  Open door policy on jigsaw puzzles over here.  Otherwise, though, I pretty much sat around, read a book and watched TV.  Here’s hoping things get a little more exhilarating.

 

Habakkuk 2:14 says, “For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”

 

Father, thank you for giving a reason to always hope.  Amen.

November 4 – “Day One Post Surgery: I am special”

Just to  help me get my thoughts in order about this day, let me repeat a few things I posted yesterday.  Oh, come on, how bad can it be to re-read a sentence or two?  After all, they have nothing to do with politics.

 

I had an early wake up call  (5:30) visit from one of the baby docs in neuro. I recognized her from the teams visit in the holding tank. She asked questions and did a physical exam. Very professional. Said she would return later with the rest of the team. 

 

And before long another baby doc showed up. She was not with the team though. Probably first year.  She asked her questions, reading directly from her checklist. Then she left the room. Oops. In a scant minute or two she was back. She forgot to do a physical exam. That didn’t take long, and she was gone. 

 

But by then it was time for the neurosurgery team to pop in. Same questions. The head baby doc told me he would forego the physical since I had already been subjected to it twice. He also said the magic words. “We’re gonna cut you loose.”  

 

And as exciting as those words were, he was careful to avoid any hint of a specific time.  Good thing, because there were a host of other visits I had to receive before I could actually leave.  Fortunately Chris talked her way up to the floor before visiting hours opened, so I had some company while waiting for what I assumed would be some more paperwork as well.

 

The physical therapy guy came in to do his evaluation.  He was kind of surprised that I already had my street clothes on.  He asked me if I could sit on the side of the bed.  So I did.  But apparently he was just asking.  He didn’t expect me to be able to without help. He did a physical exam where I had to put pressure on his hands with my hands, arms, knees and legs.  That’s when he said, “You have just passed the test to go home at a higher level than the one to go back to active duty in the military, and we haven’t even walked the floor yet.”  I replied, “Well, do tell them.  I don’t want to get drafted.”  He wanted to know what kind of high-exercise job I did to keep me in this kind of shape.  I told him I was a pastor.  He asked if I did a lot of standing.  I agreed with that, and added, “and a lot of sitting at my desk.”  He replied, “Well, I just don’t understand you and your pain threshold.”  I added, “Thanks, I guess.”  We did make that jaunt around the unit.  As we passed the window looking out over the Bay, he wondered, “How did you manage to get into the VIP room right next to this view?”  Hmm.  Must be that job of mine.  Connections in “high places.”

 

The occupational therapist was most helpful when she arrived.  She was in full-on teaching mode.  She gave us a teaching spiel, complete with personal illustrations, on log rolling in and out of bed.  Believe me, it’s harder than it sounds.  In fact, I still don’t have it down.  I also learned the three basics of life after back surgery – BLT:

1.      Bending – No bending backwards at all.  Bending forward has to be done as much as possible without involving bending at the waist.

2.      Lifting – absolutely no lifting anything heavier than a half-gallon of milk.  I can lift a gallon of milk to pour it into a glass, IF it is already sitting on the counter and I am just using my arms to lift it.

3.      Twisting – Probably the hardest of all.  I can’t turn my upper torso in a twist of any kind.  So don’t sneak up behind me and call my name.  I’ll either forget and twist around to see you, or it will take me forever to respond, while I process the sound, communicate the appropriate message from my head to my legs to take the five or six extra steps necessary to turn my entire body around, and then actually follow THOSE commands instead of the instinctual ones that explode into my head before I can even begin to think.

 

That was all the going-home teaching I had to have.  Strangely enough, however, it took until past noon before I was actually allowed to climb into the wheelchair and vacate the premises.  The floor nurse came in and asked if I wanted to have my flu shot while I was there.  It would “just take twenty minutes to get it from pharmacy, because I had to have the shot for special people.”  Yep.  There it is folks, straight from the mouth of a hospital professional.  I am special.  Of course, by “special” she just meant I am over 65, but let’s keep that between us, shall we? 

 

Well, the twenty minutes drifted into an hour.  I had also requested a quick visit from one of the neurosurgery team before they left the floor, but they got called to the surgery unit, so that never materialized.  We finally told the nurse to forget the shot and tell the neuro people we’d talk to them at my two-week follow-up.  I’ll just go to Randall’s and get it later.  That was the last decision necessary, I guess.  The exit wheelchair was at the ready, and we headed out. 

 

I slept OK last night, being in my own bed and all.  Around 11:30 Chris decided to sleep in a different bed, because she was afraid she would roll over and smack me in the back.  We’ll figure that out as we go along.  Now we’ll see how day two goes.  Oh, and who is our president now?

 

Hebrews 13:8 says, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.”

 

Father, thank you for home.  It’s good to be here.  Be with the vote-counters … and with the country, no matter who wins the election.  Amen.

November 2 - “The Surgery Day”

We arrived at the hospital about 20 minutes before my 9 am check in time. Lauren from church met us at the door and walked with us back to the day surgery department. It didn’t take but a few minutes before they called me back to get the first round of questions out of the way, start an IV, draw blood for testing, and replace my clothing with one of those fabulously tailored, backless to the bottom hospital gowns. Then Chris and my “daughter “ walked in. Apparently Chris and Lauren were inspired by the Humphries, and a rapid adoption took place in the waiting room. I guess whatever assumptions the staff made were enough to get them both through the rigid security measures. It was great to have them there. Lauren even did a really good job of praying just before we headed up to preop

Oh and the neurosurgeon popped on on us, too. He reviewed everything, but this time his incision estimate grew a little longer. So did his prediction of time of surgery. In the office he assured a one to one and a half hour span. This time he threw out a three hour time frame. That also threw Chris for a loop.  And he also said I would be spending the night rather than going home shortly after the surgery. Not the kind of surprises Chris enjoys. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. They moved me to the surgery holding tank. 

All went well in surgery, I guess. I was asleep. In fact I don’t remember much of anything once they gave me a shot in the iv to relax me a bit. That was on purpose. Since I was to be placed face down on the table, this way they could just flop me onto position on stomach. 

I woke up back in the recovery room after about 2 hours.   Chris was ever by my side. And with her this time? Not Lauren. She had to return to work. This time Chris’ companion was Squints the monkey patient stuffed animal wearing the air conditioned rear hospital gown on. Thanks Lauren. 

We ended up staying in the recovery room for much longer than expected. They finally told us at 3 that I had been assigned a room, but sadly it wasn’t yet cleaned. Other patients came and went and still we waited. Finally, sometime after five, the call came in. Housekeeping was done and we were on our way. 

Once we arrived on the eleventh floor and got moved on we were told we had to order food within the next five minutes. I went for the cheeseburger and fries. Shared it with Chris. Best fries I’ve had in a long time. They asked Chris if she was staying the night, and brought her a pillow. Around 8:30 they came in to give me some meds or something. And the night nurse saw Chris for the first time. Uh oh. We were read the riot act about the Covid protocols requiring all visitors to leave at 6 pm.  Wish they could get on the same page. She followed orders and went on home. 

Actually the biggest problem came later when the post surgery headache and nausea set in. They also unloaded the dump truck of meds at me. One shot and four or five pills. Before long my head was killing me and waves of nausea came and went. Not to mention the severe heartburn. They tried two nausea meds, and the second, an iv infusion, finally worked. Well, it put me to sleep at least. 

I had an early wake up call  (5:30) visit from one of the baby docs in neuro. I recognized her from the teams visit in the holding tank. She asked questions and did a physical exam. Very professional. Said she would return later with the rest of the team. 

And before long another baby doc showed up. She was not with the team though. Probably first year.  She asked her questions, reading directly from her checklist. Then she left the room. Oops. In a scant minute or two she was back. She forgot to do a physical exam. That didn’t take long, and she was gone. 

But by then it was time for the neurosurgery team to pop in. Same questions. The head baby doc told me he would forego the physical since I had already been subjected to it twice. He also said the manic words. “We’re gonna cut you loose.” Not sure when that will be though. 

Ephesians 4:32 says, “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you”

Father, thank you for the team of folks who took care of me. Bless them for that. And please be with the baby docs as the continue to learn their trade. That’s a long, hard trail to climb. Amen

November 2 – “Congrats, Luke”

Luke’s baptism went off without a hitch.  We sat in the balcony of their church auditorium, front and center.  Perfect spot for photos and filming.  Josh asked him a few key questions about his decision, and Luke answered firmly and decidedly.  And when he came up out of the water, he was met with applause and a few cheers.  Way to go, Luke.  We are proud of you.  And thank you to Kel for filling in for me at Seaside. 

 

Josh’s sermon was on Last Things.  A few things I gleaned:

Jesus came to act out the future kingdom in the present. 

People got excited.  Then they killed him, and a sense of despair replaced the hope for the future that had been awakened.  Then he rose from the dead, and they got excited again.  Then he left.  But he left a charge to the church to carry out his commission.  The way that was fleshed out?  The church began to do the same things Jesus had done:

Speak truth.

Care for one another.

For us, God is present, so his kingdom is already here.  But he’s not fully present.  We still have hope for the return of Jesus to complete our hope. 

My favorite thing he did was to point to the Christian flag at one side of the platform and say, “We follow the principles of that kingdom while living in …” Here he gestured toward the American flag at the opposite side of the platform … “that kingdom.”  Perfect and powerful imagery.

 

After the service we were hanging out in a conference room.  Luke began sharing his personal goals for the upcoming basketball season:

100 points total for the season

30 points for a high in a single game

20 points per game average

Pretty ambitious for such a little guy.  But the thing is, left unchecked he could probably hit every one of them.  Josh reminded him, though, that he did still have to share with the other guys on the team.

 

After a great lunch of tacos we headed back to Galveston.  A little matter of a surgery this morning.  On the way back we chuckled when we saw a truck and a car following each other on the freeway, all bedecked with flags.  We commented that it must be a baby Trump parade.  Little did we know that when we got closer to Houston, we would see an actual Trump parade heading the opposite direction.  This one wasn’t as long as the 28 miler we saw last week, but it did have a police escort. 

 

We got home last night by around 7:30.  Now we can concentrate on the surgery.  Oh, and getting used to the time change … again.

 

Romans 12:2 says, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.  Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is – his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

 

Father, thank you again for Luke’s decision and his big day.  And could you check in on me later in the morning over at the hospital?  Thanks.  Amen.

November 1 – “But the memories …”

We hit the road around 7:30 a.m. headed for Waco.  Why so early?  Because Caleb had a soccer game at noon, and we were determined to see at least some of it.  We didn’t drive straight through.  We had to do our traditional stop at Bucees for a potty break.  Well, and to just stretch my aching back.  We were there in time for a nice brunch, though.  Bacon, egg and cheese taco.  Nice.  And we bought a little tiny stuffed animal Bucky Beaver Christmas tree ornament. 

 

The bustling town of Calvert was having a farmer’s market or something when drove through.  Downtown was absolutely packed.  Must have been fifteen or twenty people there.  More than we have ever seen.  We almost stopped, but futbol was calling. 

 

We made it in time to see most of the game.  Sadly, the good guys lost 1-0.  But they played a great game.  I think both teams were exhausted when they left the field.  Caleb received the end of the season award for Best Defender.  He was pretty excited about that.

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent kind of chilling with the kiddos.  Christi’s parents were in for the baptism as well, and at one point the Winkle’s showed up.  They have been like a third set of grandparents to the kids, not to mention our great friends for humpty-leventy years, so it was great to see them.  They are supposed to be back this morning for the baptism as well.

 

Having a family with three boys makes for some pretty … interesting … street football games.  Josh and the three boys set up for a while to have some pigskin moments.  And what a moment Josh had.  He somehow finagled the teams where he and Zak, his oldest, were playing against the two younger ones, Caleb and Luke.  In spite of the horrendous difference in size and speed, the youngsters were holding their own.  They even scored a time or two.  And after one of those TD’s, Caleb was set to kick off.  Josh took up his stance about five or six yards away, arms in the air to intimidate the kicker.  But Caleb the soccer player was not to be intimidated.  He let go of the ball and swung his mighty foot across.  The ball took off like a shot, directly on a line for Josh’s … er … midsection.  It struck.  And Josh went down.  Right there in the middle of the street.  And he stayed down.  We almost had to carry him out of the way when a car came by.  Caleb went inside for some ice.  Christi came out to check on him.  It was one of those situations where there is really nothing to do but wait it out.  And in a move understood only by the guys of the world … everyone of the male gender laughed until we cried – Josh included.  At least I think his tears were from laughter.  I haven’t seen (or experienced personally) laughter like that since one Thanksgiving when my Dad and Josh somehow got tickled at the table and laughed until they cried.  We have a photo to commemorate that occasion.  Sadly, this one will not go into the photographic annals.  But the memories … oh, the memories.

 

We were wondering what the Halloween experience would be like here.  We sure missed being back home with the thundering hordes and seeing our friends there.  We did get a picture or two.  Seems that a monstrous chicken made its way into our house.  Brought along a humongous pig and a tiny princess and a ninja, I think.  Glad to see that Cailyn and her posse had a good time. 

 

In Waco they are still pretty concerned with the whole social distancing thing.  So Josh and Christi derived some creative ways to distribute candy.  One was a length of gutter set up so they could slide the candy down the chute into the Candy Circle marked with chalk on the driveway.  That one was popular with the little kids.  But the most fun of all was a contraption Josh almost didn’t set He may or may not have received some encouragement from his old man to go for it.  He leaned a length of PVC pipe against a box.  Innocent enough.  Then he set the leaf blower at one end.  Yep.  Shot those candies right out at the kids.  The older ones really got a kick out of that.  Meanwhile, the substantially older ones of our bunch managed to hook up a computer and watch some college football.  Oh, and Christi’s famous orange-iced cupcakes were certainly a big hit.  Great fun for all.

 

Romans 1:20 says, “For since the creation of the world, God’s invisible qualities – his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.”

 

Father, thank you for that time of fun and family yesterday.  Please be with Luke today for his big day of baptism.  Amen.