I finally broke down last night. This is what happened:
The day before, doctors called to ask my consent to do a biopsy on a lesion on my husband's tongue. Yesterday, they called again to inform me of the results: A fungus infection. Not cancer, which was good, but a fungus can be just as devastating to our bodies. Strangely, I knew this from a cat we once had, who got a strange fungus on her brain. The doctor said it had not yet, but could spread very quickly throughout his system and then the consequences would be very serious.
This is what I gave my consent to:
- Remove the part of his tongue where the tissue was already dead.
- Allow them to remove the breathing tube and instead do a tracheostomy to help him breathe.
And then I cried. And cried. For the first time I let go and let out all my sorrow, anger, and frustration. I cried for a long time, heaving cries, you know the kind we did when we were children.
Then I called Debra, who quoted Psalm 30:5 ~
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
I will see him tomorrow, today I will walk the dogs, mow weeds, and go to the dump with all the food and old spices I purged. Then I will take a long hot shower, using the lavender and salt scrub from the Dead Sea, my neighbor brought back from Israel; and the wonderful soap from Montana, my friend Janice sent for Christmas.
If I can accomplish all that; if I can get really tired and sleep well tonight; if I can see my love tomorrow and know he's able to deal with all this adversity ~ joy will come.