March 1
Today–emotional overload. I’ve reached my limit.
They did the preliminaries to take Norm off the ventilator, which means they reduce the sedation, giving him an opportunity to breathe on his own and making him aware of his surroundings.
He writhed against the restraints. His eyes bulged in fear as he looked at me, begging for me to help, no words, but in feeble sounds. That episode is seared onto my brain.
I stood helplessly as his O2 level dropped to far and it seemed he would go into cardiac arrest. They sedated him again to try later.
I can’t do this again. I cried because of his pain and fear. I cried because I am not strong enough to stay with him through this trial.
They kept him quiet the rest of the day and will try again tomorrow.
Where’s the joy?
I am thankful that the nurses and doctors know how far to push before calling it quits, allowing his body to rest for another try.
I pray for strength to be with Norm, in prayer if not physically present.
I rejoice that there is still hope.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul; He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You have anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23
TRICIA LATHROP 