Key to Soothing Pain

What is the key to soothing pain?  I keep pondering this question as my sister's future keeps teeter-tottering in the ICU at a hospital in Florida.  Since you're here with us on our journey, I wanted to share some heartache that my family is enduring. When life seems unfair and you fear the unknown, how do you ease the torment and the torture in your soul?  I decided it was too painful to stay quiet.

My sweet, beautiful, strong sister, Jess, who has touched so many lives, suffered a major stroke on Friday, January 23rd.  She has been in critical condition in the ICU since then.  She had not been well (e.g. pneumonia), but still this was a major shock.  It is bizarre and baffling the doctors as to what could cause this as her transesophogeal echocardiogram results didn't show any valvular or atrial abnormalities of her heart.  Her latest MRI does show multiple occlusions (aka blockages). The initial hypothesis was that is was possible there was a renal cortical infarct.  This in combination with the middle cerebral artery stroke raises the question of an embolic source. Still each day some new development occurs.  She cannot swallow or move her tongue.  Both sides of her body are paralyzed. She cannot sit up.  She cannot communicate. She's now been switched to stable in ICU and is breathing on a nasal cannula with 40% oxygen.

Still, nothing can stop the worry.  I am losing courage.  When you are bordering on the edge of a difficult decision where there is no good answer, how do you gather all the pieces?  I have never felt so pulled in opposing directions in my skin.  My heart aches for my parents; for the grief and pain that has cracked them open.  I know what it is like to fight for your baby, this creature who's existence matters so deeply.  It's not ever easy, but particularly when you are in the thick of it.  When your cortisol levels and adrenaline are maxed out and you're sleep deprived and sad.  At what point are we fulfilling our own wishes, but just prolonging the inevitable mourning, perhaps at the cost of her suffering? It's physically and emotionally painful for everyone involved, including Jessie.

So Palliative Care, Hospice, Rehab Institution or this tender shaky place- show us the face of compassion- and what and whom we can work with.  We are at the lowest part of ourselves...the underbelly of the Earth.  These tears are the most salty & the most intense.

I sit in pain and nausea when my sister will have no quality of life- when she is prisoner in a body that will not sit or swallow or walk or talk or eat.  It is unfair to communicate without words or hands to speak sign language.  It is cruel.  What must it be like to helplessly wait for others to help her?  How do you pick up the pieces of your heart?  How do you know what is the right thing to do when all we can hope for is something miraculous?  I know deeply that just as the bizarre weather we had this morning...as we floated between periods of sunshine and blizzard-like snow...life is bizarre and cruel and hard and joyous and bright with light.

I don't believe miracles exist but I know how "hope itself is like a star- not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity {Charles Spurgeon}." My thoughts let me down though and I go to dark places where I wish things were easier and that they had not revived her.  I have felt a tremendous weight and guilt for having had these thoughts.  I do not want her to suffer though.  She deserves so much better than this.  I want only for her to be comfortable and at peace.  I wish it could be like it was before the stroke.  I wish the transition for Jessie could be fast.

I feel so lost. Tears and loss and grieving.  Jessie, you are oceans away right now yet right beside us, but you're surrounded by love. We love you so, so much.  Peace & love & healing.  I'm gonna go drink a glass of wine now.  It's 5 o'clock somewhere.