J had an appointment with the neurosurgeon today. I hadn’t been to any of his appointments and really wanted to go to this one. I had been nervous about this all weekend. Very anxious.
J was working in the ER when I got to the hospital, so I sat in the ER waiting room until he was done so that we could go the appointment together. I rarely go to the doctors and was fascinated by the ER waiting room. There were some interesting people there. Gosh, mercy, I love to people watch. But that is probably a whole ‘nother story for a different day.
Anyway, we went up to the fifth floor together, filled out some paperwork and then waited in a room for the neurosurgeon to talk to us. When he walked in, I was initially surprised to see how young he looked. Seriously, he looked like he was 20.
Then he opened his mouth and started talking. He definitely didn’t talk like any 20 year I have ever met before.
It’s interested being in a room with two doctors. It was similar to the time that I was in Mexico. I don’t speak Spanish, I could understand every 10th word or so. Similar situation here, I could maybe pick out ever 7th word or so of the medical conversation J was having with Doogie Howser. It was definitely a different language.
I allowed them to talk over my head for most of the conversation. (Like how I say I “allowed” him, as though there was another choice!) Occasionally I would nod my head in agreement only so that I felt like I was a part of the conversation. No one else noticed.
Towards the end of the conversation I said, “Um, so is it my turn to talk?” Both J and Doogie looked at me like they just noticed I was in the room. Then I said, “So am I going to have him around for a long time?”
Because, really, bottom line that’s all I really want to know. Am I going to have my husband to go on vacations, attend kids sports games, make parenting decisions, laugh at funny things the kids say/do, help me with adolescence, help move kids to college, walk girls down the aisle…grow old with. I don’t want to hear statistics, studies or look at MRI’s. I want someone to tell me that the man I married and share 4 little people with will be there to hold my hand through all life’s adventures.
But no one can tell me that.
No one can promise me that.
Because only God knows when he will take Joseph.
God will do it in His time, His way, for His glorification.
The way that He will do it with all of us.
The news we got today is that J will need surgery to prolong his life. Won’t cure him, but will most likely give him a longer lifespan. We really like the surgeon that we spoke with (huge answer to prayer) and will probably get a second opinion as a formality. We learned some other technical stuff, but the bottom line is that J needs surgery if he wants to live.
Now we just need to figure out when to make that happen.