A Young Buck

Any day with surgery on the schedule promises to be a long one, and ours was no different. Today Nelson had a small procedure followed by a more significant one.

The day began with a phone call from his pulmonologist who started the conversation like this: “I’m thinking no news is good news.” He had given Nelson his personal cell phone number yesterday in case he had a lung emergency during the night. Nelson had told him he felt “different” yesterday and that something strange was about to happen, like a sudden collapse.

He’d been advised that if such a thing occurred, he was to go to the ER, call this doctor, and he, the specialist, would meet him there. Since Nelson hadn’t called him during the night, he concluded all was well.

“So,” he said, “did you sleep in a prone position last night?” It’s been weeks since Nelson has been able to do that, since the fluid in his lungs has made him feel like he was drowning.

Nelson answered honestly. “No. I still can’t lie down. It was another night upright on the couch. Breathing was still hard.”

“Well,” the doctor said, “in order to have today’s surgery, you have to be able to lie flat on your back. Can do that?”

“No. Not with all this fluid in my lungs.”

“Then come over this morning, and I’ll drain them again.”

And once more we were off to Mayo’s on short notice, thankful that our apartment was only six minutes away. Nelson felt a little better after the procedure but was surprised that already, in less than 48 hours, more than a liter of new fluid had accumulated in his right lung.

He was prepped for the surgery to place a stent in his superior vena cava vein just above his clavicle bone.

All of us (Ann Sophie, baby Will, church friend Keith, and me) were allowed in and out of his cubicle while he waited for his turn in the OR.

Keith had flown to Minnesota all the way from Tennessee to put his arms around Nelson and pray with him. He also brought lunch, though Nelson couldn’t eat anything pre-op. He prayed with Nelson and said, “You’ll get through this OK ‘cuz you’re a young buck who can put up a good fight.” A young buck. The perfect description.

We could also check a “live” progress board with his number on it, supplying information about where Nelson was in his surgical day.

Several hours later, Ann Sophie got a text saying he was ready for visitors. And once again, all of us were allowed into his room—even baby Will, despite a hospital rule that no one under five could visit. For some reason, they made an exception for our little guy. (Thank you, Lord.)

Nelson’s friend Derek had also joined us, flying north from Dallas to connect with his buddy.

Nelson was glad to see all of us but was especially glad when his wife and son walked in. This man has a lot to live for, and we could see it all over his face.

He’ll stay in the hospital overnight so he can be watched carefully by a trained staff rather than an untrained Ann Sophie and Margaret.

Then tomorrow morning he’ll be discharged before 8:00 AM, and a new day of appointments will begin.

 

“Let your eyes look directly forward and your gaze be straight before you.” (Proverbs 4:25)

Here we go again.

This blog site came into existence during the summer of 2009, a few weeks before we learned of my husband Nate’s pancreatic cancer.

We were grateful to have a cyber-place already established where friends and family could be updated during his six weeks of illness.

It would have been impossible to tend to all the emails, texts, and calls wanting to know how he was doing.

Seven years later, this same blog came in handy once again for the same purpose. My sister Mary had contracted cancer, and we used it as a way to keep people current on how she was coping.

And now we find ourselves at the same place again, this time for the firstborn of our seven children, Nelson. It was less than two weeks ago that we learned why he had been feeling bad: He, too, had cancer.

Nelson has been robust and healthy throughout his 49 years. He ran marathons, swam a mile each day, and ran multiple miles with joy. He had a physical job with Youth With A Mission in Kona, Hawaii, and was on the go daily…and sometimes well into the night.

That is, until now.

Ten days ago, Nelson, with his wife Ann Sophie and their baby Will, were happily living and working in Kona, Hawaii on the Big Island. They were shepherding young people through a YWAM work program coupled with spiritual guidance that changed their lives forever.

We had plans to be together this July during their vacation time, but God put us together sooner than expected. In just a few days, here’s what has happened:

  1. Nelson, Ann Sophie and little Will, 10 weeks old, flew to Minneapolis, Minnesota to spend some time at cousin Luke’s home there, learning about the Mayo Clinic.
  2. Nelson became a patient at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN.
  3. Nelson, Ann Sophie, Will and I rented an apartment together that is only 6 minutes from Mayo’s.
  4. A group of hard working, cheerful people came together to move us in, donating furniture to our empty apartment. (More on this tomorrow.)
  5. In our first three days, Nelson has seen five different specialized doctors who each took a great deal of time with us. And he’s seen multiple nurses and imaging techs during the process of testing and fact-gathering about his cancer. The goal is to determine where the cancer began and thus what the treatment should be. We will know those things by early next week.

So…together we hope to write this daily blog, letting people know how Nelson and his young family are doing. We’re grateful they have so many friends who’ve already shown their love in both tangible and intangible ways. To all of you, we say a resounding THANK YOU! We couldn’t have done any of this without you…and especially without cousin Luke.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2)

 

Sneak Peeks, THRIVE AND SURVIVE

Several months ago, I blogged about my sister Mary and I writing a book for mothers of children from birth to age five. Though it took more than a decade to finish our project, God graciously allowed us the time we needed—despite Mary’s terminal cancer. 

Our planning and writing was a stop-start process that included endless interruptions but also the happiness of working together in the year before she went to heaven. And now, at last, the end-product is about to launch. It’s titled Thrive and Survive, Zero to Five, with subtitle, “2 sisters, 14 children and what we wish we’d known from the beginning.”

Mary was the one who brought structure to our ideas by outlining the book and creating the Table of Contents. She also wrote 58 sidebars that are sprinkled throughout—bullet-point extras not covered in the text.

The next series of blog posts on this site will offer sneak peeks into the content of Thrive and Survive, keyed to Mary’s sidebars. Then, come the end of August, the book should be available through Amazon and other sources.

Arriving at this point is deeply satisfying—and I hope Mary knows all about it. Her wisdom is laced through the book, and both of us share mothering  fails as well as successes. Our hope has always been that new moms won’t have to make the mistakes we did, and our prayer is that they will truly thrive in their efforts to do the most important job on the planet.  

“May she who gave you birth be happy.” (Proverbs 23:25 NLT)