One Day After Surgery

First, thank you again for the prayers and support. We feel it. Our family couldn't be walking through this without you. I slept a full night last, feeling like we had crossed a huge hurdle on this journey.

Three hours after surgery, we got to see Jill in intensive care. Honestly, I had some anxiety to see her—you know, brain surgery and all. It's funny the mental images we create about people who undergo medical procedures.

But I was shocked to see how well she was doing. She was wide awake and chewing on ice chips. She was more alert and more "herself" than before the surgery, which was an indication to me of how much the tumor had been affecting her. She zinged us with jokes. She made plans to watch the NBA Finals game last night. And she tried to get untangled from all the wires, cords and tubes crisscrossing her body. 

My friend LaDonna figured her head would be wrapped up like a mummy, but she looked great--only a small strip of bandaged area, a small half-circle arching from her forehead to above her ear. 

The neurosurgeon met with her this morning and remarked how well she's doing; he said a post-op MRI looked good and reminded us that the pathology report will be critical in determining whether any cancer was present and for assessing future treatments. That report comes in the next week or so. So please pray. 

Jill had good reports from occupational therapy (on her range of movement, not her career prospects) and from some other tests I can't remember. The nurse in ICU gave her something to drink and said, with apparent delight, that she hoped it would help Jill have a really big bowel movement. Ah, the highlights of hospital life.

Jill is doing so well the doctor said she may be able to go home in the next few days!

Keep praying for the tests to be negative and for her continued recovery. My friend Chris from Australia sent me an email with Psalm 91 and we were encouraged by these words from God.

It has been an insanely intense 72 hours. Don't forget to tell people close to you how much you love them. Really. Life is a fragile miracle.

We love you and thank you for your prayers.

Love,
David