In his loving arms

What cannot be explained is most often left to interpretation.  I can only tell you that the MRI results showed torn meniscus and/or torn cartilage.  Arthroscopic surgery was scheduled.  After the doctor reviewed the MRI for the second time, our pre-op conversation with the doctor was that he would sever the torn cartilage and hopefully be able to repair the injuries.  I can only tell you that in the operating room last night, the doctor saw no meniscus tear, no torn cartilage, only scar tissue that did not show on the MRI.  At 9pm, the doctor came to the waiting room scratching his head.  “There is only good news,” he said.  ” We removed some scar tissue but other than that, Michael’s knee is fine.  There will be swelling and discomfort from the surgery but everything in and surrounding his knee is healthy.  There were no tears.”   What cannot be explained is most often left to interpretation.

I think the faces of medicine usually mock people that believe in the power of prayer and the belief that healing energy is created with prayer, because it cannot be explained.   I can’t explain why or how Michael continues to beat the odds, or how the MRI showed tears and then there were none.  Long before the accident on October 21st, I believed that there was a curve in the road ahead.  A curve that would change our lives, Michael’s life forever.  I didn’t know how, I didn’t know when, I only knew that it was out there.  Out there waiting.  I can’t explain why I awoke that Sunday morning at almost the exact moment of Michael’s impact and felt the injury in my heart.  It will be left to interpretation.

These days, Michael draws strength and peace with the quiet moments of the day.  He absorbs and enjoys the quiet, seems to heal in it’s silence.

From Mitch Albom’s book “For One More Day”

“What causes an echo? The persistence of sound after the source has stopped.”

“When can you hear an echo?  When it’s quiet and other sounds are absorbed.”

In the quiet moments with Michael, when all sound is absorbed, I hear.  I hear, I feel the presence of God.  I can’t explain it, it’s just my interpretation, my belief.  I believe in the power of prayer.

xxoo

Pooped

After a late night mix up with “where does mike go?”, he ended up on the fourth floor in a temporary recovery room over night.  If you’ll remember Mike’s conversation with Sylvette,  waking in the morning is now Mike’s favorite time of the day.   But not today.  This morning he awoke to unfamiliar faces, in pain in an unfamiliar place, for a patient with a brain injury, probably not a great way to begin the day.   By mid-morning, he was finally back in his room on the fifth floor.  Mike had little time to rest between hospital red tape and three new evaluations for therapy (don’t get me started!) and then three full hours of therapy…Mike looked and felt like he had been run over by a truck.  He was physically and mentally tapped out.

Let’s hope a good nights rest leads to a better tomorrow.  Good night Michael.  Good night John boy.