Rebecca officially had her best two days in a row since the transplant. Her jejunum and gastric tubes are working well and Rebecca’s pain and nausea have decreased accordingly. Her wound is healing and her infection is at bay. We know we have a long way toward recovery, but Rebecca is in her best place yet these six weeks post-op. We are thankful this Christmas – very thankful. Originally, we hoped to be in rehabilitation at the Ronald McDonald House to celebrate this season. Most TPAIT children are well into a rehab course by this time. But in typical style, Rebecca charts her own path – always has and most likely always will. We are not naïve to the world of spending holidays in the hospital. To date, we have spent every major and even the ‘obsolete, didn’t realize they existed’ minor holidays within the confines of a medical institute. The sole exception being Easter. Numerous birthdays and anniversaries have come and gone while a member of our family is strapped to an IV pole. We have learned, over time, to throw grand parties with meager accessibilities. One of my hospital neighbors was crying yesterday. Her family is spending their first holiday in the hospital. She was distraught, overwhelmed, and more than a little broken-hearted. As she voiced to me her sadness, I vividly recalled the sorrow of our first unplanned seasonal stays. My motherly hopes and dreams of pleasant memories tainted by beeping machines, needles, and narcotic anxieties. When my new friend asked how we adapted enduring another unanticipated Christmas – I responded in tears and told her 6 simple words: “We grow where we are planted.” God planted us in this hospital - at this particular time. It was not my choice to be here, but it IS my choice to grow. And over time, my desire changed from merely growing to THRIVING. For our family to flourish and bear sweet-tasting fruit that we can feed off for years and years to come – in spite of our unsavory condition. Whether that condition is moving to a new town with strangers, enduring a holiday without a loved one, or surviving a terrible crises, MY response to MY current trial is purely up to ME. And so the Taylor family grows – not always straight, not always pretty, and certainly not perfect, but ALWAYS with a passionate attempt to love those our Lord places in our path: the pain-ridden children, the hurting parents, the underpaid medical caregivers, the exhausted residents, or the overwhelmed surgeons. And through this love, somehow, in an only-God-can-do way, our unhappiness evaporates into a surprising joy. An unexpected Christmas miracle. So as I walk back into our hospital room of present making, glitter-infested clutter, watching Yaya wrap bows around individual gifts, while listening to my three little elves discuss which card each nurse will receive, my heart swells – no GROWS – just a little bit larger…. John 15:2, “He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit He prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” Love to each and every one of you on this very special holiday, Christyn
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 00:30:41 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015