7/27/03 Sunday 12 noon
He seemed worse today so I called a friend who said that her church would pray for him and then she prayed for us. The purple spot on his ankle was oozing yellow fluid, so I called Dr. H. and he told me it is lymphatic fluid from soft tissues, not from the joint. He said to keep his legs up and feed him protein.
He could hardly walk to the bathroom, so we set him in the spare bedroom. We moved the other TV, the recliner, end table, etc. I couldn’t have done it without his brother. He is propped up on the bed in there, so his feet are higher than they were. I’m going to have a wheelchair delivered tomorrow so it will be easier to get him to the car.
His pain is better and so are his spirits because he’s glad to be in the bedroom. I got him to drink 16 oz. of Carnation Instant Breakfast and eat half a hamburger, which is really good.
I am a full-time nurse and patient advocate. I have to learn as I go. Dr. H. said that the most the specialist will do is to hopefully get the inflammation down, but we won’t know a diagnosis for weeks. I don’t understand why.
Phil’s brother just left. He kept apologizing for having to leave. I didn’t cry.
I keep getting headaches, probably from tension. When his pain is down, we both try to eat. I like having him in the bedroom because I can sit in the living room without staring at his ankles.
He is angry with God and I can understand that. I keep crying out to Him. I am sure that the reason things are better right now is because at least 2 churches prayed for him this morning.
I didn’t even know life could be this hard. I’ve had it so easy. It’s funny but I have a peace about death.
4:30 pm
We’ve had a breakthrough of sorts. Moving to the bedroom has changed everything because now he has to keep his legs up on the bed, and that has helped the pain tremendously. He was able to sleep this afternoon and he has taken 48 oz. of instant breakfast. At one point when I asked him about the pain, he said it only ached a little. That’s a miracle! Angie stays with him in the bedroom, curled up in his recliner.
Carol came and brought food, and Mark came and prayed. Since he’s only eating instant breakfast, I might ask for meals every other day. It would save money plus I wouldn’t have to shop. Maybe we can make it until we see the specialist.
8 pm
I cannot save his life. I am not in control of this. I cannot make the inflammation go away. I cannot get him in to see a specialist. I can only take care of him the best way I know how. We are either in God’s hands or we are not, and I believe we are. God is in control, no matter what it looks like. God is in control. I am not. I refuse to try to take responsibility for things that are beyond my control. Our lives are in God’s hands and, even if He doesn’t rescue us, He is still our God.
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