Day 10 - LETTING GO

We've heard it from everyone that visits with us in PICU.. 'Just remember, it's two steps forward and one step back!' All those steps make for some good days and bad days. Today was a particularly hard one for me. 

If I could compare my reality right now to anything, it would be like riding the Space Mountain roller coaster in Disney World where you can feel everything happening to you, but you are in complete darkness. I keep wanting to switch and ride the roller coaster where I can see everything... But I can't switch. I'm in darkness. This morning they told us that they want to keep him on the vent for a few more days since he failed his breathing test yesterday morning. The day before that, he passed all of his breathing tests with flying colors. We were hanging on to the hope that he would be off of all the tubes and in our arms again. (I say 'our' loosely as I'm fairly certain any holding I will get will only come if I pry him from Beri's grip once she finally gets to hold him.) We are learning, however, that we truly are riding in darkness and we need to just accept the moment and try not to look for the next loop, drop, or corkscrew. 

It's going to take faith.

I don't think I'm very good at having faith, or knowing how to trust. My relationship with God has it's ups and downs, but I see him the most when I'm in darkness. I see him in humanity in times of crisis, and in the people who are willing to carry others through it. Thankfully, we have an army of people behind us, cheering for us, and basically carrying us through this. It's incredibly powerful.

Red has become my new symbol of faith. I've worn a red shirt every day for the past 5 days, and many friends have donned a red item, showing support.

Today, my wife and I sat down for lunch at the hospital, and I said "We are going to be here for a while, aren't we?" She didn't say it, but her eyes told me yes. We are both struggling to find things we CAN control in our lives, because we just can't control this... how long he's on the ventilator. All we can do is try to learn how to let it go. 

My aunt sent me a card that made me smile today:

'Cornell is home to the "Big Red" hockey team. Last night's game was against Havard, their arch rival. 5,000 fans dressed in red and waved red towels were screaming "Let's Go Red." My thoughts were with you and I felt that they were cheering for Redden and you. '

I'll take that.