Steve
I spoke with Sally last night. She's a dental hygienist and said that since she got the news about Gabrielle, she has been praying for her all day long. How so? Even I haven't been that diligent. Well, she's got this wonderfully creative system. As she works her way through a patient's mouth with all those fun little sharp instruments of torture, each tooth gets assigned a particular person. The whole time she is working on that tooth, Sally prays for that person. What a great idea! I love it and am honored to know that all day long, when Sally gets to Tooth Number 4, Gabrielle is getting an extra prayer sent heavenward on her behalf. Is it selfish of me to want Tooth Number 4 to be extra dirty so that she will spend more time on it? Mea culpa. Maybe tomorrow I can adopt her strategy and assign a different rubber glove to a different person throughout the day. Probably wouldn't work. I'd be tempted to keep Gabrielle's glove on all day long and I don't think my subsequent patients would like that.
On the "what's new with Gabrielle?" front, she's had a rough day. You'll pardon my levity with the rubber glove comment because I am hoping she will read it and take a little cheer, at the expense of some morbid doctor humor (though I can get more morbid...don't tempt me). The worst part about today is that her wonderful portacath, so carefully placed by the vascular surgeon who had to be flown in from Milwaukee got plugged and therefore needs to be adjusted tomorrow morning. It is not as involved a procedure as when it was placed, but still requires another procedure, nothing by mouth after midnight and is discouraging as it represents a small setback.
Nothing on the quest for Mr. Potato Head front. Still trying. Spirits lagging. Evenings tend to be the worst. I just got a phone call from her and she wasn't doing well, even though she has Daniel, The Champion of the World staying with her tonight. I drove down and hung out with the two of them for an hour. She kindly let me rub her back and pretended that she needed lotion on her legs so that I could get close to her and rub them for a little bit as well. She has been having me keep my distance because of my perceived cold (it's nothing, really...I had it checked out by a doctor: looked in the mirror and pronounced myself fine). Still, I am being cautious. I wear a mask when I see her. The worst part is that I haven't kissed her in three days. I miss that. And hugs. Don't get me started on hugs.
Her legs have been shaking uncontrollably for the last four hours. As I was leaving, the nurse gave her some Ativan which seemed to help. Nausea remains a huge problem, despite two different anti-nausea medications. Has no appetite. Had two saltines and three bites of applesauce around 10:30. She needs a little more calories than that.
So, that's this evening. Here's hoping tomorrow is better and that a lot of people with really dirty number Tooth Number 4 will be seeing Sally all day long.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
1/16/13 Anyone up for skeet shooting?
Steve
Yesterday's big event was the placement of a portacath (or Port-a-cath) so Gabrielle could get chemotherapy without having to get stuck with a needle every week. It was supposed to be done the day before, but either the operating room couldn't accomodate her or there was no surgeon available to do the procedure. On Monday late in the day, a harried Dr. Lerner bustled down the hall to introduce himself. He is a vascular surgeon and had come directly from the airport, having just flown in from Milwaukee. I like to think that Gabrielle is so special that they are flying specialists in to care for her. I think he may have had other reasons for his Milwaukee trip, but that's beside the point. He flew in for Gabrielle and that's good enough for me.
In the course of telling her about the procedure, he said that she had a choice between having it placed on right or left side just below the collar bone. She didn't care, as long as it worked. He asked her if she was right or left-handed, to which she replied "right". It's not her fault she's not left-handed like me. We can't all be special now, can we? He helped her decide by asking her if she liked to shoot rifles, or something to that effect. I'm not entirely clear as I was talking with someone else at the time. I just heard words like "shoot" and "gun stock rubbing against the portacath". That sealed if for her and she is now sporting it on the left, well out of the way.
I suppose it would be no fun to head out for a little friendly skeet shooting to hone those hand eye coordination skills and have the rifle butt keep pounding on the portacath. Gabrielle laughed when asked if she was a hunter or liked to shoot. No to both questions. Although she is indeed excited that Cabela's now has a branch up north, she makes a beeline for the snowshoeing section when we go in there, not the camoflauge clothing that comes in oh so many styles. Want to hide in a birch forest in winter? In summer? In a pine forest? A swamp? Have they got the clothing for you! For the life of me, I cannot imagine why anyone would need camo underwear, but they've got it at Cabela's. Feet get cold during those ice fishing jaunts? Not any more: heated camo socks, as if the darned carp hiding beneath two feet of a frozen lake really care what color your socks are.
Still, I really admire Gabrielle's decision to have the portacath placed on the left side, "just in case". There is somethign appealing about Gabrielle, in all her post hospital glory, going out to the shooting range and ordering up a box of skeet to shoot at. Is it a round? A box? A flurry? A bolus? As is very clear, I am not a skeet shooter either and don't know what units they come in. But if she does take up the sport, she'll no doubt take along a Sharpie and write "ovarian cancer" on each and every clay pigeon prior to having it launched. There would be a lot of satisfaction in yelling "pull!" And blasting the target to smithereens.
"Ah, but what if she misses?" You might ask. Hardly! If you haven't already figured it out by now, Gabrielle is very competetive (in a fun way) and masters anything she has set her mind to. Those stupid clay pigeons won't stand a chance in the sites of Gabrielle's rifle. She would practice, practice, practice till she got it. She would read books, watch DVD's and even start hanging out in the cafeteria of Cabela's seeking the advice of old time skeet shooters, while noshing on one of their tasty elk burgers, till she mastered the sport. And ovarian cancer, likewise, will bow to Gabrielle's superior will, inner strength and vast array of weaponry she has to throw at it (including, but not limited to her vast network of friends, doctors, nurses, medicines, and the like).
She does have a bit of history with guns. Goes way back, when she was in high school, I believe. Got a job at Fishing and Hunting News selling advertising or subscriptions (yes, aced that job too!). We have a faded picture somewhere in the basement of her shooting at something with two admiring boys in tow. Yep, that's Gabrielle. Even back then, showing off for the guys. And that's the last time she shot a firearm. Till now.
But, she got the portacath placed just fine and is doing well. Daniel stayed with her through the day yesterday. Renee had night shift (lucky her). She went on walks and is managing as best she can, as she is trying really hard to earn her very own Mr. Potato Head doll (no news on that front, as I am home now). I am actually hopeful that she may be able to come home later today, but it's an outside chance. Needs to have better pain and nausea control as well.
She remains in very good spirits and has been buoyed by the overwhelming show of support through your cards, notes, texts, e-mails, food (yes, she is eating now), prayers and visits (but check first). Thank you all so much.
A final note to Daniel: thank you for your very deep and uplifting entry yesterday. Why should you be intimidated by our writing? You take a back seat to nobody in the writing department. Keep it up, DJ! Looking forward to another post from you today.
Yesterday's big event was the placement of a portacath (or Port-a-cath) so Gabrielle could get chemotherapy without having to get stuck with a needle every week. It was supposed to be done the day before, but either the operating room couldn't accomodate her or there was no surgeon available to do the procedure. On Monday late in the day, a harried Dr. Lerner bustled down the hall to introduce himself. He is a vascular surgeon and had come directly from the airport, having just flown in from Milwaukee. I like to think that Gabrielle is so special that they are flying specialists in to care for her. I think he may have had other reasons for his Milwaukee trip, but that's beside the point. He flew in for Gabrielle and that's good enough for me.
In the course of telling her about the procedure, he said that she had a choice between having it placed on right or left side just below the collar bone. She didn't care, as long as it worked. He asked her if she was right or left-handed, to which she replied "right". It's not her fault she's not left-handed like me. We can't all be special now, can we? He helped her decide by asking her if she liked to shoot rifles, or something to that effect. I'm not entirely clear as I was talking with someone else at the time. I just heard words like "shoot" and "gun stock rubbing against the portacath". That sealed if for her and she is now sporting it on the left, well out of the way.
I suppose it would be no fun to head out for a little friendly skeet shooting to hone those hand eye coordination skills and have the rifle butt keep pounding on the portacath. Gabrielle laughed when asked if she was a hunter or liked to shoot. No to both questions. Although she is indeed excited that Cabela's now has a branch up north, she makes a beeline for the snowshoeing section when we go in there, not the camoflauge clothing that comes in oh so many styles. Want to hide in a birch forest in winter? In summer? In a pine forest? A swamp? Have they got the clothing for you! For the life of me, I cannot imagine why anyone would need camo underwear, but they've got it at Cabela's. Feet get cold during those ice fishing jaunts? Not any more: heated camo socks, as if the darned carp hiding beneath two feet of a frozen lake really care what color your socks are.
Still, I really admire Gabrielle's decision to have the portacath placed on the left side, "just in case". There is somethign appealing about Gabrielle, in all her post hospital glory, going out to the shooting range and ordering up a box of skeet to shoot at. Is it a round? A box? A flurry? A bolus? As is very clear, I am not a skeet shooter either and don't know what units they come in. But if she does take up the sport, she'll no doubt take along a Sharpie and write "ovarian cancer" on each and every clay pigeon prior to having it launched. There would be a lot of satisfaction in yelling "pull!" And blasting the target to smithereens.
"Ah, but what if she misses?" You might ask. Hardly! If you haven't already figured it out by now, Gabrielle is very competetive (in a fun way) and masters anything she has set her mind to. Those stupid clay pigeons won't stand a chance in the sites of Gabrielle's rifle. She would practice, practice, practice till she got it. She would read books, watch DVD's and even start hanging out in the cafeteria of Cabela's seeking the advice of old time skeet shooters, while noshing on one of their tasty elk burgers, till she mastered the sport. And ovarian cancer, likewise, will bow to Gabrielle's superior will, inner strength and vast array of weaponry she has to throw at it (including, but not limited to her vast network of friends, doctors, nurses, medicines, and the like).
She does have a bit of history with guns. Goes way back, when she was in high school, I believe. Got a job at Fishing and Hunting News selling advertising or subscriptions (yes, aced that job too!). We have a faded picture somewhere in the basement of her shooting at something with two admiring boys in tow. Yep, that's Gabrielle. Even back then, showing off for the guys. And that's the last time she shot a firearm. Till now.
But, she got the portacath placed just fine and is doing well. Daniel stayed with her through the day yesterday. Renee had night shift (lucky her). She went on walks and is managing as best she can, as she is trying really hard to earn her very own Mr. Potato Head doll (no news on that front, as I am home now). I am actually hopeful that she may be able to come home later today, but it's an outside chance. Needs to have better pain and nausea control as well.
She remains in very good spirits and has been buoyed by the overwhelming show of support through your cards, notes, texts, e-mails, food (yes, she is eating now), prayers and visits (but check first). Thank you all so much.
A final note to Daniel: thank you for your very deep and uplifting entry yesterday. Why should you be intimidated by our writing? You take a back seat to nobody in the writing department. Keep it up, DJ! Looking forward to another post from you today.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
1/15/13 Mr. Potato Head
6:00 P.M.
This is Gabrielle here with my very first post. I am doing the talking and Renee is in the corner writing all this down. Therefore, sentence content is my fault. Any spelling errors are on her.
Last February 18th I turned 52. In order to make me feel better about reaching that glorious age, Daniel decided that we would call me "Fifty- too-wonderful-for-words." I only bring that up because this week I've been ruminating about the "two" side of my age.
To begin with, as all of you have now heard, it was two weeks ago that I started having stomach aches which were the miracle that led me to the hospital to discover that I have ovarian cancer. As you might imagine, cancer is an unexpected and unwelcome surprise.
The Bible says in Genesis that when a couple chooses to marry, the two become one. And when cancer came into my life, it really came to both Steve and me. It affects us as two, but we fight it as one. He has been by my side from the very start and I feel great joy and strength in knowing that he will be there with me every step of the way.
And then there's another two that have risen to the occasion in a way that makes their mother very proud. In this past two weeks, Renee and Daniel have also come alongside me in this journey. They have made me laugh, fed me ice chips, read me Scriptures and devotionals, prayed with me, had "slumber parties" with me in the hospital, and shown me their overwhelming love for me.
I mentioned a minute ago that cancer is a journey, and every journey is a series of steps. So I will now tell you why I titled this post "Mr. Potato Head." When Renee and Daniel were two years old, we were potty training them. We had two bribes to assist us in this process. Every time they peed in the potty, they got two plain M&M's. But sitting high on the top bookshelf in the living room, far beyond their reach, was a brand-spanking-new Mr. Potato Head toy. They were told that when they learned to poop in the potty, Mr. Potato Head would be theirs. They gazed at him longingly. They begged for me to let them play with him. But it wasn't until they were victorious in their goal that they received their prize. My first goal this week made me feel like a two-year-old. My first goal was to get that %#&$ catheter out and learn to pee in the potty by myself. I am proud to say I have accomplished that goal! But like my little two-year-olds, I have to achieve that second goal before they'll let me out of the hospital to go home where I belong. Being home again to continue this journey with friends and family surrounding me will be better than any Mr. Potato Head ever was.
Thank you for all the love and support you have given our family during this time. Thank you for meals. Thank you for flowers. Thank you for cards and notes of encouragement. And most importantly, thank you for continued prayers for my healing.
This is Gabrielle here with my very first post. I am doing the talking and Renee is in the corner writing all this down. Therefore, sentence content is my fault. Any spelling errors are on her.
Last February 18th I turned 52. In order to make me feel better about reaching that glorious age, Daniel decided that we would call me "Fifty- too-wonderful-for-words." I only bring that up because this week I've been ruminating about the "two" side of my age.
To begin with, as all of you have now heard, it was two weeks ago that I started having stomach aches which were the miracle that led me to the hospital to discover that I have ovarian cancer. As you might imagine, cancer is an unexpected and unwelcome surprise.
The Bible says in Genesis that when a couple chooses to marry, the two become one. And when cancer came into my life, it really came to both Steve and me. It affects us as two, but we fight it as one. He has been by my side from the very start and I feel great joy and strength in knowing that he will be there with me every step of the way.
And then there's another two that have risen to the occasion in a way that makes their mother very proud. In this past two weeks, Renee and Daniel have also come alongside me in this journey. They have made me laugh, fed me ice chips, read me Scriptures and devotionals, prayed with me, had "slumber parties" with me in the hospital, and shown me their overwhelming love for me.
I mentioned a minute ago that cancer is a journey, and every journey is a series of steps. So I will now tell you why I titled this post "Mr. Potato Head." When Renee and Daniel were two years old, we were potty training them. We had two bribes to assist us in this process. Every time they peed in the potty, they got two plain M&M's. But sitting high on the top bookshelf in the living room, far beyond their reach, was a brand-spanking-new Mr. Potato Head toy. They were told that when they learned to poop in the potty, Mr. Potato Head would be theirs. They gazed at him longingly. They begged for me to let them play with him. But it wasn't until they were victorious in their goal that they received their prize. My first goal this week made me feel like a two-year-old. My first goal was to get that %#&$ catheter out and learn to pee in the potty by myself. I am proud to say I have accomplished that goal! But like my little two-year-olds, I have to achieve that second goal before they'll let me out of the hospital to go home where I belong. Being home again to continue this journey with friends and family surrounding me will be better than any Mr. Potato Head ever was.
Thank you for all the love and support you have given our family during this time. Thank you for meals. Thank you for flowers. Thank you for cards and notes of encouragement. And most importantly, thank you for continued prayers for my healing.
1/15/13 Peace
This is Daniel with a post. I haven't really been posting too much because I am intimidated by the writing skills of my father (LA times-published multiple times) and my sister (minored in writing and naturally-gifted). So while I may not have their skillful way with words I can at least say something that has been on my heart recently.
Less than a week ago my mom thought she was experiencing bad stomach pain from a virus or something, and now she has already undergone surgery for ovarian cancer. The speed at which this has all happened is overwhelming. No one expects things like this to happen, it is something we hear about happening, but never really imagine happening to us. Like my dad said at one point, it was as if you were just dipping your toes in the ocean (my stomach hurts), to being hurled into a stormy sea (stage 3 ovarian cancer). But this is not the end of the story. You see, as Christians, we are never actually alone, and God has promised that He will always be with us.
Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." <--- one of many verses on the subject of God being with us
Less than a week ago my mom thought she was experiencing bad stomach pain from a virus or something, and now she has already undergone surgery for ovarian cancer. The speed at which this has all happened is overwhelming. No one expects things like this to happen, it is something we hear about happening, but never really imagine happening to us. Like my dad said at one point, it was as if you were just dipping your toes in the ocean (my stomach hurts), to being hurled into a stormy sea (stage 3 ovarian cancer). But this is not the end of the story. You see, as Christians, we are never actually alone, and God has promised that He will always be with us.
Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." <--- one of many verses on the subject of God being with us
Knowing that God is with us is the most wonderful, comforting feeling. I can't really describe it, but all I can say is that God is light, and when we draw near to Him He can fill us so full of light that there is no room for darkness. My mom has been so incredibly brave during this journey. She doesn't complain or say a cross word, she is kind and loving and just as selfless as ever. She feels God's presence with her during this difficult time, and that makes such a difference.
One of our long-time family friends gifted my mom a
devotional a few days ago called “Jesus Calling: Enjoying Peace in His Presence”
by Sarah Young. (P.S. my mom loves reading on her Kindle, so if you feel like
sending her something to keep her busy during chemo, a little Amazon giftcard
would be much-loved J
). We read each day’s devotional together (whichever family member is with her
at the time), and today’s brought so much comfort to our souls. Young writes,
(from the perspective of Jesus talking to us) “You are surrounded by a sea of
problems, but you are face to Face with Me, your Peace. As long as you focus on
Me, you are safe. If you gaze too long at the myriad problems around you, you
will sink under the weight of your burdens. When you start to sink, simply call
out “Help me, Jesus!” and I will lift you up”
Philippians 4:7 And the peace of God, which transcends all
understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Matthew 14:30
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and
came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to
sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ “
My mom may feel like Pete right now, sinking down in the
water, but she has deep, wonderful faith and she continually calls to Jesus,
and He raises her up. I am so grateful for the peace that the Holy Spirit has
given me these last few days. It is weird to have gone from totally freaking
out (that was my first reaction), to an overwhelming since of peace (how I feel
now). And I know that this dramatic shift I’ve experienced is a gift from God,
His Holy Spirit that brings me peace that passes all understanding.
And I would just like to add that we have felt all the prayers from everyone who loves Gabrielle, or even people who stumble across this blog but don't know her. We have felt enveloped by love and support from family, friends, coworkers, and hospital staff her at Northwest. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. Please continue to pray for her. :-)
Monday, January 14, 2013
1/14/13 Songs in the night
8:04 PM
Steve here.
Not much to add from a medical perspective. Renee said it all. Just a random thought to pass on (indulge me, it's therapeutic to write). It has to do with songs. Recently on the way home from the hospital, I turned on the Oldies station. No kidding, first song up was "Feeling Stronger Every Day"! I can dig it! It was a message from the 60's just for Gabrielle.
Tonight, on the way home, the Eagles were welcoming me to "Hotel California, what a nice surprise, what a nice surprise!" In my mind, I morphed the words to "Hotel NW Hospital", but the syllables didn't match. Still, I hummed along (sing? me? who are you kidding?). I liked the whole song except where they sang about how you can "check out but you can never leave". We'll see about that at Hotel NW Hospital! Maybe Wednesday? I hope, I hope. If the "feelin' stronger every day" song has any impact, Wednesday will do just fine, thank you very much.
Next up, back in the woods somewhere lived a cute girl named Gaby B. Goode. Go, Gaby, go, go, go! Gaby B. Goode. Thanks, a lot, Chuck Berry, you made my night!
Yesterday, at church, I got very hopeful. The final song came up on the overhead. I was busy pondering the hospital stay, what the bills would be like and (this is the honest truth, I wouldn't lie about a church song) there, up on the screen in two foot high letters was "Jesus Paid it All". Wow! Now if that ain't an answer to prayer, I don't know what is! Sadly, Ron, the choir director had other plans and shook it off quicker than an ace big league pitcher who didn't like the signal from the catcher. Next up was "My Jesus I Love Thee". I guess that'll do.
All this is to say that songs speak to me. They encourage me, make me laugh and the rare ones even get me to sing along. Off the top of my head, the only two that can do that are the last half of Hey Jude (na na na na, in case you didn't know) and the Big Rock Candy Mountain from O, Brother, Where Art Thou (I especially like the part where there's a lake of stew...). So this is a request to any and all: I need some good suggestions for healing, uplifting, make me smile, happy songs a la "Feeling stronger every day". Do you know any? Please let me know. I see that Renee tweaked the settings, so comments may be easier. I will dutifully take your suggestions and turn them over to the under 30 contigency of the Dudley family, along with my Visa card and point them in the direction of iTunes. I think Gabrielle will like it. As for the "Jesus paid it all", could you please send that one directly to Premera? Thanks ever so much.
Steve here.
Not much to add from a medical perspective. Renee said it all. Just a random thought to pass on (indulge me, it's therapeutic to write). It has to do with songs. Recently on the way home from the hospital, I turned on the Oldies station. No kidding, first song up was "Feeling Stronger Every Day"! I can dig it! It was a message from the 60's just for Gabrielle.
Tonight, on the way home, the Eagles were welcoming me to "Hotel California, what a nice surprise, what a nice surprise!" In my mind, I morphed the words to "Hotel NW Hospital", but the syllables didn't match. Still, I hummed along (sing? me? who are you kidding?). I liked the whole song except where they sang about how you can "check out but you can never leave". We'll see about that at Hotel NW Hospital! Maybe Wednesday? I hope, I hope. If the "feelin' stronger every day" song has any impact, Wednesday will do just fine, thank you very much.
Next up, back in the woods somewhere lived a cute girl named Gaby B. Goode. Go, Gaby, go, go, go! Gaby B. Goode. Thanks, a lot, Chuck Berry, you made my night!
Yesterday, at church, I got very hopeful. The final song came up on the overhead. I was busy pondering the hospital stay, what the bills would be like and (this is the honest truth, I wouldn't lie about a church song) there, up on the screen in two foot high letters was "Jesus Paid it All". Wow! Now if that ain't an answer to prayer, I don't know what is! Sadly, Ron, the choir director had other plans and shook it off quicker than an ace big league pitcher who didn't like the signal from the catcher. Next up was "My Jesus I Love Thee". I guess that'll do.
All this is to say that songs speak to me. They encourage me, make me laugh and the rare ones even get me to sing along. Off the top of my head, the only two that can do that are the last half of Hey Jude (na na na na, in case you didn't know) and the Big Rock Candy Mountain from O, Brother, Where Art Thou (I especially like the part where there's a lake of stew...). So this is a request to any and all: I need some good suggestions for healing, uplifting, make me smile, happy songs a la "Feeling stronger every day". Do you know any? Please let me know. I see that Renee tweaked the settings, so comments may be easier. I will dutifully take your suggestions and turn them over to the under 30 contigency of the Dudley family, along with my Visa card and point them in the direction of iTunes. I think Gabrielle will like it. As for the "Jesus paid it all", could you please send that one directly to Premera? Thanks ever so much.
1/14/13 Better!
It's about 6:00 pm and it looks like my mom's on the upswing. Down to a 5 out of 10 pain level, and it will likely keep getting better. Her surgeon Dr. M swung by and came up with a plan for the night. My mom looks relieved, and we certainly feel relieved too! Hopefully she'll get lots of sleep tonight.
Along with my mom and Dr. M, you all are my heroes of the day. You've prayed for our every need. You've brought meals, coffee, tissues, toothpaste, books, and beautiful flowers. You've run errands and taken on projects. You've sent encouraging words right when we need to hear them. We're overwhelmed by the outpouring of love for our mom. We couldn't do this without you! As soon as my mom feels a bit better she wants to get online and write a blog post herself. Until then, she asked me to tell you that your prayers and well wishes make a tremendous difference to her. And she says she loves you all very much!
All right, I'm signing out and heading home. Daniel gets the luxurious hospital cot tonight, and my dad and I will try to get some sleep before work tomorrow. (Sidenote: Daniel's a trooper. He's been here all day and will stay until tomorrow evening when my dad and I get off work. I've been so impressed--though not surprised--to see the way he ministers so patiently and compassionately to my mom and still manages to make me laugh in between. I have the best brother!)
Goodnight!
Renee
Along with my mom and Dr. M, you all are my heroes of the day. You've prayed for our every need. You've brought meals, coffee, tissues, toothpaste, books, and beautiful flowers. You've run errands and taken on projects. You've sent encouraging words right when we need to hear them. We're overwhelmed by the outpouring of love for our mom. We couldn't do this without you! As soon as my mom feels a bit better she wants to get online and write a blog post herself. Until then, she asked me to tell you that your prayers and well wishes make a tremendous difference to her. And she says she loves you all very much!
All right, I'm signing out and heading home. Daniel gets the luxurious hospital cot tonight, and my dad and I will try to get some sleep before work tomorrow. (Sidenote: Daniel's a trooper. He's been here all day and will stay until tomorrow evening when my dad and I get off work. I've been so impressed--though not surprised--to see the way he ministers so patiently and compassionately to my mom and still manages to make me laugh in between. I have the best brother!)
Goodnight!
Renee
1/14/13 Leave comments!
I forgot to say in the last post that we've updated the blog settings to make it easier to leave comments. We're not a tech savvy family, sorry. So hopefully it'll be simpler to leave a note for our mom now.
It's 4:00 pm and she's still feeling pretty awful. One day at a time...
Oh, and she aced her self-administered shot earlier today. Didn't even flinch. Go Gaby!
It's 4:00 pm and she's still feeling pretty awful. One day at a time...
Oh, and she aced her self-administered shot earlier today. Didn't even flinch. Go Gaby!
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