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Friday, June 10, 2011

Update 13, May 23

Greetings, Friends------
            It's been over two weeks at Providence, and that's as much rehab is permitted at this center.   I wish I had a more exciting progress to report, but the truth is this is a long, slow process.   At least Stu can swallow now, and is awake and alert more often.   His list of meds is much shorter.  And he's somehow managed to win over most of the staff with his sense of humor, even though he's often a difficult patient.  (I've watched the nurses trying to check his oxygen levels, which involves clipping a device on his finger and keeping it still.  His right hand is on overdrive, obviously compensating for what the left isn't doing.  I think the word would be "frustrating")  He will be transferred back to Laurel Hills in Grants Pass tomorrow, May 24, same room as before.  9, I think.

          People ask me how I'm doing.  What can I tell you?  Just when it seems quite evident that I should just depair about the whole situation and crawl into a hole somewhere and howl, some bright evidence to the contrary "just happens".   This week it was my neighbors who reminded me.  Our home and bakery sits on six acres, and during this saga not much of the yardwork got done (although I must give a shout out to Shelly across the street, who mowed the main yard several times while we were in Portland and when we got back)   Still, by the middle of last week, if Stu's condition didn't depress me, the state of my yard sure did.   And it kept raining!!   More growth!  No mowing.  Nightmare!  
          On Friday I resolved to take the day off from driving to Medford, and put on my Weed Terminator Gear (black rubber boots, earplugs, noisy trimmer).   I was going to take a stand against the vegetation!  About an hour into my battle, here comes my neighbor Russ:  "Sue, you don't have to do this.  I've been planning to come down and get all this for you, but my weedeater broke.  We've only just replaced it.  I'll be here first thing in the morning and take care of this yard."  That evening I got an email from Shelly across the street "Sue, how early is too early to start mowing your yard?"  And that evening, while talking over my business dilemma with two of my favorite workers (more like angels disguised as young women),  I mentioned my overgrown yard.  Mary, the activist,  piped up and said "I would love to come and pull weeds for you on Sunday afternoon."  And darned if she didn't, and brought reinforcements to boot!  She actually used the word "joyful" to describe the process.  On Saturday, half the battle had been won-----by Sunday, when I came down my driveway after church, (with one more volunteer in the car with me, by the way)  I found a whole posse waging war, without my help!  Wow.  Thank you Russ and Cherie, Shelly, Mary, Tamara, Kory, Lacey, and Caitlin.   During all this, another neighbor stopped in to ask after Stu and me, and yet another neighbor has been providing me with fresh eggs.  It just felt like a neighborhood-wide hug.  Thanks, I needed that. 
            I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  God is good.  He works through people in unexpected ways.  There is reason for hope.  I hang on to this verse with both hands when the going gets tough:

 "Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into the grace in which we now stand.  And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

Dare I say I'm "Joyful"?  Like Mary?  I think I have to.   I pray you are discovering joy in your trials, too.

From the battlefield (with lots of company!)



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