Three more days until a much needed procedure.
An x-ray had confirmed our doctor’s suspicion that my geologist’s left lung was more than 90% filled with fluid. His was a situation that while “not an emergency”, needed to be taken care of “sooner rather than later”.
Three more days may not feel like a long time. Until it does.
When the guy you love more than anything gets so winded by walking from the bedroom to the kitchen that he has to sit down, it’s downright scary. Making it from Friday until Monday felt as hard as it felt for him to get himself from one end of our house to the other, and we weren’t sure how to do it. It was time to call in the troops, and return to what got us here in the first place. I don’t know what that might look like for anyone else, but here is what it looked like for us.
Day One:
Coffee on the porch, because almost everything starts with coffee. Praying together to bring our scared and hopeful little selves to the God that we love and who loves us back, and asking others to do the same. Which they did. Texts arrived, as did the voices of those we love, video calls, and virtual glasses of wine with loved ones far away. At the end of day one, knowing that while no outcome is ever certain, we can be certain that we are never alone, come what may.
Day Two:
Coffee at the top of the logging road, because almost everything starts with coffee. While far from hiking it again, we know that stretch of ground, and it knows us. We’ve hiked it twice a week since the pandemic, and it always greets us exactly where we are and how we are. Just like four of our nearest and dearest do, and did that morning, joining us at the top for our coffee and Walker’s shortbread. More texts, more voices of those we love, video calls, and in person glasses of wine with loved ones in our neck of the woods. At the end of day two, knowing that while no outcome is ever certain, we can be certain that we are never alone, come what may.
Day Three:
Coffee on the porch, because almost everything starts with coffee. We attended the church of the NFL, because that’s what we do. Our team played their hearts out, and shut out their opponents. It’s a family affair so we were watching together from near and far. More texts, more voices of those we love, video calls, and another virtual glass of wine. As day three comes to a close, knowing that while no outcome is ever certain, we can be certain that we are never alone, come what may.
Three more days may feel like a long time. Until it doesn’t.
That’s what happens when we return to what got us here in the first place. The prayers that let us bring our scared and hopeful little selves to the God we love and who loves us back. The people we love and who love us back. The places we love and that love us back.
And of course, coffee.
And maybe some wine.
