Thirty-six hours

Thirty-six hours.

That’s all that stood between us and our family vacation to Mexico. Luggage is packed. House sitter scheduled. Last minute cleaning in progress. We were leaving for the airport about 2am Saturday for a 6am flight….on the beach in a short 48 hours.

And then this happens.

Entrepreneur decides he needs to go to the ER. A nagging headache that had been previously dismissed as due to stress, sinus or seasonal changes took a massive turn for the worse. Coupled with nausea and the belief his head would explode, we head to the ER. Oh, and he’s got the flu.

And then this happens.

With a four hour wait ahead of us in the ER, docs send him for a CT scan to try and narrow down the cause of his headache pain. I head to teach my class at the university, thinking I’ll come back to take him home with some meds for his headache. We’ll resume the Tamiflu regimen and be good to go later on Friday.

And then this happens.

He texts me and says it’s not good and is being admitted to the hospital. “We see what looks like blood and a mass in the right temple area of the brain.” I hear phrases like aneurism and brain tumor. I hear the words I never wanted to hear again…..renal cell cancer met. I hear these words, yet they don’t really fully register.

I’m numb and my brain is in a fog. Somewhere in the cloud the word surgery is spoken.

Surgery. Brain surgery. This coming Tuesday. Valentine’s Day.

So not how I’d planned to spend that day. In four hours, we’ve gone from eagerly anticipating a relaxing tropical family vacay….to surgery for a hematoma or possible brain cancer.

All foreseeable plans cancelled. He’s admitted and taken to his room. MRIs and more scans are scheduled for the morning. But those are only to help determine how to proceed with the surgery. He’s in severe pain as we settle him in for the night. The next day will be filled with neurologists, neurosurgeons, oncologists and other medical personnel. He settles into the bed, a nurse finds him some food. Pain meds follow.

I retreat home and begin sending updates to family and friends. No sleep ensues.

So, now, it appears we’re going down this path again. A path I knew might be a possibility but never thought it would ever be this soon,,,,or in this form. Odd how two words can shake me to my core….brain surgery.

Thirty-six hours.

quotography-thankful 72

12 thoughts on “Thirty-six hours

  1. Oh Lisa, please know that my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. I know at this time of uncertainty it can wrack your faith to the core. But just remember that you are being held and supported; wrapped in light and love.

    Please keep us post, my friend!

    (((((((((((((((((( YOU ))))))))))))))))))

    P.S. I will be thinking of you and your family on Tuesday, sending you much prayer.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh my dear cousin – I’ve so enjoyed the pictures over the last year or so and especially those with Perry and the girls. What a sucker punch! Asking our Lord Jesus to wrap His arms around you all and hold you through this. Prayers for wisdom for the medical team – strength and peace for you all. Much love!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh how I hated reading this…when read where you said you hear words, I was so hoping to read on and it would say they were just worrisome words in your head and not real. A blessing, I guess, is that you weren’t on vacation when he felt so ill and home, but still, so sad to read this. Prayers for your entrepreneur that all goes smoothly and the diagnosis is good. Prayers for all you guys and hugs sweet lady. 😦

    Liked by 1 person

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