Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Old Wood and a Long Wait

As I feed the old wood into the fire. My thoughts swirl around a dead tree's new life as dancing flames. Bright orange and yellow lights glow before me as I sit mesmerized by the heat and energy.

My mother-in-law's body struggles onward, its functions met by the administrations of hospital nurses, tubes, and drips, but the brain rallies no longer. I dare to ask, how much longer. "Everyday something different happens, who can know?"

How like life-- we make our plans and then poof, they are gone as if spit in the wind.

According to the doctors, the brain is gone and will not come back. Another pounces for certainty, "Are you sure?" Just a minute ago, uncertainty was waved in my face, now it is thrown again from a different angle. 

Certainty shimmies away.

I press cold fingers into warm skin. A body lies before me, unable to move or speak. Bandaids, tubes, dressings, and machines, cover and whirr. It is a scene out of reality, yet surreal. I'm asked if I want to leave. I'm confused. I want to know, I want to see evidence.

Consultations ensue. Some experts consulted say no recovery is possible. Other experts are found that say the brain must first reabsorb the blown up tumor tissue, but it is possible. 

Possible? How long do we wait? How many before her have recovered? How likely is it that the brain will be uninjured? Will she come back?

The waiting continues. There are no quick or easy answers.

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