Concerned about Dad's bleeding, medical staff gave him another transfusion just before midnight last night, and the bleeding seemed to stop again after that. The night nurse told me this morning that she'd been checking his stoma regularly during the night and there was hardly any sign of blood any more. She says, as far as hospital staff are concerned, this seems to be one of those situations where you simply need to ride out the storm, and "wait and see."
And so it's another new day. Tomorrow will mark exactly six weeks since Dad first went into hospital, and they've not been easy weeks. None of us wants to see Dad suffer and struggle, or to be tortured by ongoing setbacks and medical procedures. And yet, superficially at least, so many things are doing better than they were five weeks ago, and there have been so many "close calls" that ended in turnarounds which could only be explained as miraculous. The question my Mum asks is, "If he's not going to make it anyway, why is this dragging on for such a long time, and why are the horrendous setbacks interspersed with such encouraging improvements?" Perhaps that's just the way things go with a patient who's in intensive care with a critical, life threatening illness.
It gets hard to know what to expect, and sometimes it's even hard to know exactly how to pray. At times I have a clear sense of a Bible verse or a word from the Lord that I should pray for my Dad; at other times, I don't have any understanding at all and I can only pray for God's mercy, grace and goodness to surround Dad in his hospital bed.
