In preparation for the surgery and the most traumatic experience of her life, months ago Heather dyed her hair dark. She cried, but I actually prefer the color to blond. In her pre opp appointment with her surgeon, Dr. Fineman, I explained that the actual success of Heather's recovery was directly tied to the amount of hair loss required for the procedure. Dr. Fineman laughed, however, no truer truth has ever been spoken.
Post opp I can honestly say, Heather is going to be pissed. She is recovering well and walking laps around the fourth floor of the hospital. Daily the pain subsides and the levels of the various medications are reduced. But the devil will have nowhere to hide when she attempts to style the hair shaved half way up the back of her head like a troubled middle school teen.
Heather receives visits daily from friends and family. She is at Huntington Memorial Hospital in Pasadena, CA, Room E440. Peculiarly two doors down from Room E442, my recovery location following my spinal fusion in December of last year (it is far to soon to constantly view that room each day). It is awesome to witness the compassion of organizations and individuals when the need is manifested. When mother is incapacitated, legions amass and the assistance is staggering. Why? Because that is what it takes. The effort definitely equals the task. In contrast when I received my surgery, other than family only one person visited me in the hospital (you know who you are). A lot unexpected, however, different roles dictate a dissimilar response... that or I need to make a more substantial effort to make some friends.
Dr. Fineman anticipates Heather will be discharged from the hospital possibly tomorrow, definitely Monday. I will be by her side at the hospital until then.
During Heather's tenure in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) immediately following surgery, I became acquainted with the DeGache family. Their son Joshua, age 29, contracted Meningitis and after a few seizures was placed under a controlled/induced coma since 5/10/11. With little more information to date, the family lives in the hospital with the hope that Joshua's strength and youth will kill the viral infection prior to the coma being lifted by the doctors. Perspective is everything, and leaning on one another in the waiting room during hours of restricted visitation, bonds are formed. I continue to feel legitimately concerned for Joshua, and they for Heather. We have shared pleasantries, stories, laughs, prayers, and food. However, today the opportunity was presented to share far more, the spirit and priesthood. Following a visit by our loving Bishop Lemmon and his wife, I asked that he accompany me for an introduction to the DeGache family and an offering of a priesthood blessing for their son. The family readily accepted the invitation and Joshua's mother promptly inquired, "why didn't you say something sooner?!" I apologized and explained sarcastically that I wasnt necessarily dressed for the occasion (I packed nothing but athletic shorts with a loud patterns and reef sandals). Though ICU typically allows only (2) individuals into the recovery rooms at a time, an exception was made for 'clergy.' The boy's father, mother, and step-mother were able to witness the blessing and were pleased with the sweet words uttered. As the blessing was extended, Joshua became more active than the family had seen since the coma was induced. With our hands on his head he motioned against the nylon restraints firmly as if desiring to leave hospital bed. Unfamiliar individuals brought together through extremely unfortunate circumstances embraced and the family extended its gratitude. I sincerely love the gospel and the capacity to offer support and benefit to people found in otherwise helpless situations. I later explained to Joshua's father that I could not sit by truly listening, sympathizing, and caring, then not offer that which was within my purview to provide.
I continue to concern myself with Joshua and follow up on his condition and progress.
