We cooled our heels in the Rock all day, waiting to hear from the neurosurgeon. He finally called us about 4:30 this afternoon. We're good to go home.
What's next? Lots of doctor appoinments. At least one more spinal tap. Maybe some more detailed imaging. Hopefully no more emergency room trips. Everyone is very concerned that we stay on top of this to make sure Kristina doesn't lose any more of her vision, and for a while, that means we'll all be nervous as junebugs in a henhouse.
We hope the drugs she's on will continue to do their job, and that Kristina won't ever need a shunt. Shunts seem to be troublesome little critters, with something like a 50% success rate, and about a 50% revision rate. That means there's a two in four chance that the shunt won't work at all. If it does work, there's a two in four chance she'll need surgery again somewhere down the road to have the durned thing worked on. So, for you math whizzes, that means there's only a one in four chance that it works and never needs worked on. That's not good. We'd like to pass on that, please.
All that means we're not out of the woods yet, but we'll be home, and as of Friday afternoon-ish, we'll have our kiddo home, too. That's worth a lot.
What will we need? Well, if I'm honest, I just want our life to go back to its quiet, little routine, but that ain't gonna happen. We're going to have to find a new routine. We love that there are folks in our lives who want to serve us by bringing food. But here's the thing: We don't really need that right now. There are folks who need food a lot worse than we do, and Lord knows it's about time I cooked something besides frozen pizza. Kristina's mom is back to help us for a bit longer, and that has been a huge blessing for us. We could not have managed this without her moral and practical support.
And if you absolutely must do something, if you're a giver like that, head over to purecharity.com and pick a project to send a few bucks to. We're big fans of 99 Balloons in our house, but there's a little something for everyone over there. Or you can pop over to Givington's and purchase a little something nice and fund a cool charity project. Or take some food to the Samaritan Community Center, or to 7 Hills Center. We're big fans of the work those folks are doing.
Come visit, either way. Or call. Or text. Email. Facebook. Good Lord, we've got plenty of ways to be in touch. Pick one and send Kristina a little love. She needs the tender heart and the warm hugs of the Body of Christ right now more than the cook's hands.
Now, if you'll allow me a moment to wax philosophical, read on. If you have no patience for that kind of stuff, we're done here. Go back to being mad about the presidential election. Thanks for checking in. But you're going to miss the best part…
By all means, do everything you can to take care of yourself. Just remember: Shit happens. This thing came up out of nowhere and no one seems to understand why. We can point to none of the known causes of this condition as triggers in Kristina's case.
Could things have turned out differently if…? Maybe. And we'll look into a few of those questions. If we find that some answers are in the affirmative, rest assured, we'll deal with that appropriately. But the simple fact is that lightning struck. Boom. And everything changed. Random? Yes. Redemptive? I have no doubt. That's just how God works. Mysterious, huh?
This is a broken world we live in, y'all, marred by sin until our King and Christ comes again to redeem it for what it was meant to be from the Beginning. The control we try so hard to exert over our lives results — at best — in our living a dangerous illusion. Remember the One who made us. Honor Him joyfully, for He has already effected the redemption of all things.
It is finished. Already, and not yet.