Glimmers of hope...

It's been the hardest thing in the world to watch my Dad lying there on life support machines and to know that his lungs, his kidneys, his digestive system... are not able to work for themselves. From time to time, they lower the sedation and switch off the ventilator - just to see if he can begin to breathe for himself - but he's not able to do that yet. It's hard to see all the tubes and machines: tubes in his nose, draining bile from his stomach and drip feeding him to try and get his digestive system going again; tubes on one side of his neck for the antibiotics, blood pressure medication, painkillers and sedatives; tubes on the other side of his neck, taking his blood in and out of his body to the dialysis machine that is doing the work of his kidneys.. and tubes down his widely gaping mouth to do the breathing his own lungs aren't able to do. You feel so helpless and it's hard to know even what to say or to do when you're there in the intensive care unit with him. 


My brother speaks to him and tells him that he needs to hang in there and get stronger; I also pray for him and reads psalms from the Bible. Last night, when I was praying, I just had an impression that I should worship God and declare His character by singing my Dad's favourite hymn - "How deep the Father's love for us; how vast beyond all measure" - and also another song by the same musician, based on Psalm 23: "The Lord is my Shepherd." It seemed as if Dad's eyebrows flickered from time to time, but it was hard to tell whether he could really hear me, or whether it was just a reflex action like our eyes make when we're sleeping and dreaming.


Just then, my brother arrived, bringing my 11 year old niece to see Dad. I leaned across the bed and said to him, "That's Graham bringing Kasey to see you, and it would really make her day if you were able to open your eyes for her." Amazingly, his eyelids kind of parted a fraction, almost as if he was trying to open them for me.


I headed back to the waiting area with my Mum, while Graham and Kasey went in to see Dad. A few minutes later, Kasey came running to us. "Papa's opened his eyes," she said. Sure enough, Dad had managed to open his eyes, but the effort had caused his heart to race, and the nurse had to give him sedatives and pain medication again. We continued to take turns speaking to him during the evening, but it was hard to tell if he was really aware of our presence.


Just as it was time to go home, I turned to my Mum and said, "Perhaps he can hear us. Tell him that you love him." She was fighting back the tears, but she leaned across the bed and said, "He knows that I love him. We've been together a long time, and he needs to get better and come home so that we can be together for our 60th wedding anniversary."  Suddenly Dad's eyes opened wider again, and he began to move his mouth - almost as if he was trying to speak.  The nurse came over to the bed and explained to him that he can't speak, because there's a tube in his throat.


He's still not really conscious yet, and his lungs and kidneys are still dependent on the machines... but those little signs of life last night gave my Mum a glimmer of hope that she had almost lost. It might be a long haul yet, but she wants to keep hoping and trusting that Dad can come through this. 


We'll be going back to see Dad in the hospital this afternoon. In the meantime, I'm helping Mum by cleaning the house and getting things a bit more in order again. This morning, I also have a doctor's appointment myself. Thank you, everyone, for your emails, phone calls, text messages and prayers.

Hospital update

Many, many thanks to everyone who has skyped, emailed or phoned to express your best wishes and prayers. Yesterday afternoon, my family skyped me to let me know that Dad's condition was critical and that he was on life support machines: respirator for his breathing, dialysis machine to do the work of his kidneys, intraenous antibiotics, drip feeding, and a machine to keep track of his irregular heartbeat. Doctors said that he was gravely ill and the next 48 hours would be critical.


Basically, what seems to have happened is that my Dad's initial surgery on Tuesday went well, but somehow he ended up back in a normal ward instead of in the high dependency ward, and he seemed to be doing so well that they gave him a big three course lunch on Wednesday. He vomited it up, and he's been in pain ever since. The second operation on Friday showed that there was a leak where the two parts of the colon had been rejoined, and intestinal fluid had been leaking into his body, poisoning his system and causing intense pain. His body went into septic shock and his organs began to shut down.


I flew to Scotland last night, my Mum and brother met me at the airport after midnight, and we drove straight to the hospital, where we were allowed to go into the intensive care unit at two o'clock in the morning. Dad was hooked up to various machines, with a night nurse there to watch him constantly. He was sedated, so we don't know if he was aware of our presence (he hasn't really  been conscious since the surgery on Friday) but we spoke to him and prayed with him. We phoned the hospital about ten minutes ago and they say that his condition is still the same.


Thanks for praying for my family. One of the hardest things for my Mum is to know that Dad was doing so well last week before going to hospital, he also seemed to be doing so well after the cancer op, and it now seems highly likely that this setback might have been caused by human error - by the fact that he probably shouldn't have been given the large meal that caused him to throw up and may have been what caused the leak in the colon. Amidst the fear of losing him, there's a feeling of anger that this emergency situation needn't have happened. But we can do nothing about what is in the past; we can only hold on to God in the present and for the future, knowing that Dad is in His care. We'll be going to see him in the hospital again this afternoon.

Dad in Intensive Care... I'm flying to Scotland

Today has been a bit of a nightmare. Doctors said my Dad had double pneumonia and kept him in an isolation room where he was on intravenous antibiotics. But that didn't explain the level of pain, which was so bad that Dad couldn't even speak. Finally a doctor said that the amount of pain was much more than would be normal for the kind of operation he had had, and that they would need to take him for a scan. The scan showed that he had fluid leaking inside his body from the place where they had re-joined the two parts of the colon after removing the cancerous part. He had been warned that this was one of the risks of this operation - that it can happen in a small number of cases - but we had so much hoped that he wouldn't be one of those cases.

So he was rushed back to surgery, where they opened him up again and discovered the leak that had been the source of so much pain. But, apart from the fact that he also has pneumonia, he is so sick that it wasn't possible for the surgeon to sew the colon up again. It would just tear open yet again as he continues to throw up over the weekend (which they say will be the case.) So they've had to put catheters in instead. After the surgery, he was moved to the Intensive Care Unit, where they say that they'll have to work on getting him over the pain and well enough to go home for a while. Then he'll need to go back into hospital at a later date to re-do the surgery and sew the two parts of the colon together again.

It's been hard for my Mum to see him so weak and in so much pain - especially as he had been feeling so well last weekend before going into the hospital. I tried to book a flight home today to be with family at this time, but it was absolutely impossible to find any availability of flights to Scottish airports. I checked eight different airlines, and even looked for flights via places like Newcastle and Birmingham (in England) but everything was fully booked for tonight and also for the next few days. I even packed a bag and went to the airport, trying with three airlines there to get something at short notice, but they simply reaffirmed that there were no flights at all to any of the Scottish airports. With some airlines, there were no free seats at all until next Wednesday (perhaps because this is a holiday weekend in most of Europe.)

Finally I managed to find a flight for tomorrow night, Saturday, arriving in Prestwick at midnight. Prestwick is further from home than Edinburgh or Glasgow, but not too far for my brother to come and pick me up. All being well, I'll be able to see my Dad on Sunday. For now, though, his condition is still rather critical - as he recovers from a second major operation this week, battles with the nausea and vomiting, and also has his strength weakened by having pneumonia at the same time. My family would very much value your prayers this weekend. Thank you.

Not such good news....

It turns out that my Dad's pain level and vomiting were more than would be normal, so they sent him for an x-ray this afternoon and now they've moved him into a ward on his own, where he has started intravenous antibiotics. This is a concern, because it's what happened after his brain surgery three years ago, when they had to re-do the operation and then keep him on intravenous antibiotics for two months. Please join me in praying for the infection to clear up quickly.

Thanks for your prayers...

My Dad went into hospital on Monday and had his operation on Tuesday. They removed part of his colon, and so he's experiencing some pain and discomfort now, but is generally in good spirits. Thank you, everyone, for your prayers. Family and friends are able to visit him in the hospital during the afternoon or evening, and he's trying to make arrangements for an internet connection there so that I can skype him from Spain.

What is God like?

This month, I've been working with a group of 10 - 12 year old girls in our church in Alhaurin de la Torre. We've been looking in the Bible at different pictures of God, and taking time to think through what these insights mean in practice for a young person in the 21st Century. So, for example, last week we considered the fact that God is like an Artist: He is the Creator and I am His unique masterpiece. Tonight we looked at Bible passages which say that God is like a Shepherd: I am valuable to Him and He takes good care of me. Next week, our topic is that God is like a voice: everyone, no matter how young or old they are, can learn how to hear God speaking to them.

As well as studying relevant Bible passages, the girls have been doing creative activities every week to help them remember these Biblical pictures of God. Last week, we made clay models of different aspects of God's creation, and tonight we made delicious cupcakes with marshmallow sheep on them.

Something smells good...

A local supermarket has begun having "today only" special offers on a Saturday. Last weekend the special was rabbit and, when I confessed that I had never eaten rabbit during my several decades of lifetime, Ada suggested we buy one and try it for Sunday lunch. Well, if you've eaten rabbit, you'll know that it's white meat, not all that different from chicken... but there must certainly be a difference when it comes to the smell, because something rather unusual happened in our house at Sunday lunchtime.
Our cats (who usually turn their noses up at fish or chicken, and staunchly refuse to eat anything other than their cat food) suddenly came begging at the table while we were eating our rabbit. Tobi was first to come - purring and miaowing and generally making it known that something smelled good to eat. After lunch, we took the bones and bits of leftover meat outside, and Teddi joined Tobi in enjoying the pickings. 
Next Saturday's special offer is lasagne, so we can expect the cats to leave us in peace again!

Signs of the season...

Today I clambered up to the top of my cupboard and brought down my duvet which has been in storage since the end of May. Although we've had some unusually warm afternoons this October, the mornings and evenings have been a little chilly and today I decided that it's now too cold to sleep only under a sheet or an empty duvet cover. The cats seemed to approve of the decision; when I came home at lunch time, I found them all lying on my bed, instead of in their usual "summer" places like the cold floor tiles or the little bookshelf in my bedroom.


Other signs of the season are that our local ice cream shop has closed its doors for this year, and little stands selling hot roasted chestnuts are springing up on every street corner (Gabriela and I decided to buy chestnuts and roast them at home this year while we are working on her English homework for school.) If I walk to the library in the morning, I no longer walk through the tables and chairs of street side cafes where Spaniards are drinking their coffee or having chocolate and churros for breakfast. People are having breakfast inside the cafes now. Once I get to the library, I find that I no longer need to dodge the ice cold drafts coming from the air conditioners; it's warm air that's coming from them now.


Meanwhile, town council employees are climbing up to prune branches off the palm trees and to put a protective covering on the treetops in preparation for the rainy and colder winter months. People who have summer fruit trees in their gardens are also beginning to prune off branches.... and I've gladly collected some of these to add to our firewood pile at home. Although we usually don't need to make a fire until sometime in November, there's no harm in being prepared. 
We've been spoiled with mild sunny days of 23 degrees over the past week, but rainfall is forecast again for this weekend. It's still dark when we get up in the mornings, and I need to wear a sweatshirt when I'm walking to work in the morning. I guess it's official: summer is behind us now and winter will soon be on the way.

Internet insights: provision from an unexpected source

I used to think that poor and erratic internet was a challenge peculiar to life in Africa. When I lived in Cape Town, broadband internet was still rather expensive, and our outdated dial-up connection was prone to malfunction suddenly - just because it was rainy or windy, or because someone emailed us a large photo and crashed the server! When I moved back to Europe, I expected that life would be simpler when it came to the parts of my work that depend on an internet connection. Well, I was wrong!
It's true that a good internet connection is more readily available in Spain... but when you live in a town surrounded by mountains, you never really get the speed or the bandwidth that the internet providers promise you. And, it turns out, it's still a fact of life that strong winds or heavy rains can leave you without internet for a whole day or more (not to mention without electricity either!) Perhaps the biggest challenge, however, is that a good internet connection can still be pretty expensive: you need a rental contract for a landline phone (which comes with unlimited free calls within Spain) and then you add the internet contract on top of that. But if you're not really calling landlines within Spain, and all your outgoing calls are to people's cellphones, you'll probably end up paying more than €80 per month for your phone and internet.
That's roughly what we were paying in 2009, so when my flatmate returned to England that year and I had no one else to share my internet costs, I decided to switch to a mobile phone instead, and to try out a cellphone internet service that depended on plugging a sim card into your computer. Well, this turned out to be disastrous! It might have been true to say that it was "better than nothing," but the truth of the matter was that it often ended up being more of a frustration than a blessing. I ended up spending many of my days in the public library, where the free internet service was considerably superior to the connection I had at home.
However, you can't speak in the library. It was great for downloading and answering emails, but it wasn't any help when it came to the coaching sessions I was having with people in places like England, Holland and Tanzania. My coachees were very patient last winter with my somewhat erratic and fluctuating Skype connection. When LDC ended this summer and I took on more coachees from places like Thailand, Cambodia and Australia, having a reliable internet connection became even more of a priority, and I was faced with the prospect of having to pay a large amount of money for a landline phone and a more dependable broadband connection. 
Then something surprising happened: the "ayuntamiento" (town hall) in my town announced that they were extending their free internet service to several other public buildings, as well as the library. To my amazement, one of these buildings turned out to be the "polideportivo" - the sports complex that is across the road from my house. As no one takes their computer with them when they go to play sports, the service is used mainly by passers-by checking emails on their smart phones. I discovered that I could set up a deckchair in the street, in the shade of a tree if necessary, and could easily conduct my coaching sessions with people on the other side of the world. It's true that I get one or two strange looks from passers by (they don't see my earphones and so they wonder if I'm speaking to myself!) and I'm also gradually getting to know all the dog walkers of the neighbourhood. I guess I won't be sitting there in the street in my deckchair when our winter rains start up.... but I'm expecting that I can park my car next to the sports centre and carry out my coaching sessions from there. This internet connection has been a huge blessing from a very unexpected source. 

Family news...

My niece had her eleventh birthday last week; you can see her here opening her cards and presents. As her birthday usually falls during a school holiday week in Scotland, a special present this year is that she'll be going to Spain with her parents. Not here to Malaga again, but to a coastal resort in another part of the country.
One week from today, my Dad will go into hospital and on the 25th he'll  have surgery to remove the cancer in his colon. He'll probably be in hospital for at least a couple of weeks, so my Mum will have regular hospital visits during November.
Here in Spain, I'll also have a hospital appointment in November: I'm going on the fourteenth to the hospital in Torremolinos to see a foot specialist about the arthritis in my feet. They'll be assessing whether I need to have special shoes or insoles in order to be able to walk with less pain.
My brother, who had an operation on his wrist some months ago, has now been told that he can start work again. He's turned down the offer of an office job, as he prefers his old job out and about the oil refinery, so he'll need to be careful with his wrist at first.

Fun with free figs

Our house is built in an area that used to comprise citrus groves and fig orchards. There are still some orange trees (the sour kind, not eating oranges) and fig trees at the end of our street. When my friend Sue was visiting from England, she used to go fig gathering, as she jokingly affirmed that she "loved to find free food!"

Looking through my new recipe book (see previous post), I found a recipe that involved camembert cheese and fig chutney.... so off I went to the end of the street to pick the figs that I needed. The chutney turned out to be really easy to make.... and I'm beginning to wonder if I should gather some more figs and make a pot of jam too.  

Sue is also something of a bird-watcher, so when she was here we also went to another part of town where a flock of green amazon parrots have made their nests in the palm trees. What a noise they make!                                               The last piece of news today is that I've finally received a letter with a date for my hospital appointment to see the foot specialist in Torremolinos. It will be on the morning of 14th November. Unfortunately, that's right in the middle of the Strategic Leadership Course that we're running in November, but at least it's not on a day when I'm scheduled to do any teaching.

Transition and transience...

Last week, I was busy from morning to evening with the WELT Leadership Team meetings. We were a large group, comprising YWAM leaders from different European nations, as well as the "Barnabas" group of older leaders who came to offer prayer and support. We had a full but good week together. Then, at the weekend, I went to a "garage sale." Some friends of ours are moving back to live in South Africa and were selling off all kinds of bits and pieces that they don't want to take with them. I bought a South African recipe book (by Ina Paarman, who's something of a South African institution when it comes to cooking and baking) so I now have the recipes for old favourites - like bobotie or rusks - right at my fingertips. I'll need to try out some new soup recipes over the coming winter.
My friends' departure and transition made me reflect on the transience of life here in southern Spain. People talk about it all the time: how common it is for expat friends to return to their home country or move on to somewhere else. I realised that the same can be true of life as a missionary. Thinking about the (non-Spanish) friends that I made during my first months here in Spain, I realise that almost all of these people have moved on now: three families have moved back to England, four people have moved to the US, and now these other friends are relocating to South Africa. What a paradox it is, and yet what security to know that we live in a constantly changing world, but we serve an unchanging God.

Health Update

My parents got word today that my Dad's surgery will be at the end of this month - on October 25th. When he was originally diagnosed with cancer, doctors told him that the surgery would be done quickly, probably within a couple of weeks. In fact, it will be closer to ten weeks by the time he goes in for the operation, and my Mum is finding that the long wait is quite an anxious time. Please would you join me in praying that my parents will know God's peace in this waiting time, and that the wait will not have any adverse effects on my Dad's condition. Thank you.
As for me, I still haven't had word of my hospital appointment here in Spain; the wheels of the health system seem to be turning rather slowly.

October occupations...

I've just had a visit from a friend and prayer partner that I met nearly 30 years ago. Sue, who works with the world prayer centre in Birmingham, has been a long time friend since we met on outreach in France in 1982. She's visited me in various parts of the world - including France, Scotland, South Africa and now in Spain - and she also travels to different parts of Europe and Africa, taking prayer teams to serve short term in a variety of locations. As well as taking time to pray together over the past week, we were also able to visit Málaga and Benalmádena, and even to have a swim in the sea one day! (With autumn on the way, our swimming weather is almost over for this year.)


Now that October is with us, I have a varied programme of activities to occupy my time. I wear two "hats" in my missions involvement (the King's Kids ministry and the Leadership Development ministry) and sometimes these two roles bring a list of duties and deadlines together at the same time. This October will be one of those times. I'm working on the preparation of our KKI national leaders' gathering that will be held in Torremolinos during the last week of November; people are registering now for the conference, and the deposit needs to be paid to the hotel by the end of this month. I'm also proof reading/editing a new KKI publication that will be printed before the end of this year. Alongside these KKI roles, I am working with the applications for three upcoming leadership courses: the Strategic Leadership Course (SLC) which will be held here in Alhaurín during the first three weeks of November, an intensive coaching seminar in January, and the Leadership Development Course (LDC) which will be held here next spring. I'm also working on registering the SLC and the LDC with the University, and over the coming weeks, I'll be putting together a students' handbook for the SLC. And, just to add a little variety, in my local church role, I'll be leading three weeks of creative discipleship programmes with a group of girls aged 10 - 13 (which means I'll be preparing a range of Bible worksheets in both Spanish and English.) So there are certainly plenty of things to keep me occupied this October.


This week, however, I'll start the month by being involved full time in the annual meetings of YWAM's Western Europe Leadership Team (WELT) where I represent the work of KKI throughout Europe. Meeting concurrently with the WELT this year is an eldership group of long term missionaries called the "Barnabas Network." The Barnabas people are coming to serve the Western Europe leaders by praying for them this week or being available for counsel. A few of us, including myself, are in the Barnabas Network, as well as in the Western Europe Leadership Team, so we will have a dual role this week.


Meanwhile, both my Dad and I are still waiting for news of our hospital appointments: mine to see an arthritis specialist about my feet, and Dad to have the surgery that will remove the cancer in his colon. It's been almost seven weeks since his diagnosis, and things are beginning to drag a bit, so we're praying that he'll get a date for the operation very soon. Thanks for standing with us in prayer.