So we saw the surgeon about an acoustic neuroma that Robert has in his inner ear, it is pressing on his brain and we must do something.
The surgeon does not want to take it out, Robert is diabetic, and has just gotten over pneumonia.
He is referring us to a Neurosurgeon that does Gamma knife surgery. (please excuse my spelling! so many new words, and I have a hard enough time with everyday words!) Anyway, it is not like regular radiation, very precise rays converge at the tumor to kill it.
Risks are high no matter what we do, so we are getting more tests run and talking to more doctors. Robert has to decide on something, and he doesn't want to do anything. They tell us that is not an option, as blindness and paralysis is next.
I believe God is greater than all this, and no matter what Robert decides to do he will be fine. God can shrink tumors, and He can dissolve them too. Already the neuropathy in Robert's feet is fading away, they said that wasn't possible too! But he is ticklish now in his feet! Just a few weeks ago the doctors ran tests and he had no feeling on the bottom of his feet! I believe it is the first of many things God will do. He is letting me know he hears our prayers and He cares. Can't tell you how much hope it gives me!
Thanks for your prayers and thoughts!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Robert
Life is so up and down these days. I have to keep living. Everything says that nothing matters anymore. Some days my husband, Robert, gives up the fight and just wants to go on to heaven.
He has been diagnosed with a small tumor in his inner ear, pressing on the brain. It is not cancerous, Thank God, but his balance is off these days, hard for him to walk straight now. Next month we see a surgeon to find out if they will be able to remove it.
The headaches are worse, and he sleeps a lot now, at least in the day. The nights are long, sleep comes in small doses. It is as if time has stopped for us. Schedules do not matter, food doesn't get eaten, even favorite dishes are stared and poked at.
I am selfish. I hang on, I know he is in pain, but I can't let him give up, I can't let go of hope that he will get better. I counter every hopeless suggestion with God's word and truth, I will not let him speak death . . .
Am I wrong? Is death merciful? At least for him I am sure it is. I am too selfish. I cannot go there. I freak out just thinking about it. So I pray for healing, I search for remedies, I sit with him for long empty hours. We wait.
Next month we will see.
I try to live, I try to paint my pictures, I try to smile and say the right things. I try to find reasons to laugh, to get him to laugh. I miss his laugh.
Sometimes I just sit and stare at my canvas, I can't think straight, I can't focus. I know it is there for me. Painting has always been my way to cope, my escape. But for now I have to force myself to create something, anything. I just don't see that anything matters anymore. I know better, but some days I can't get there.
He has been diagnosed with a small tumor in his inner ear, pressing on the brain. It is not cancerous, Thank God, but his balance is off these days, hard for him to walk straight now. Next month we see a surgeon to find out if they will be able to remove it.
The headaches are worse, and he sleeps a lot now, at least in the day. The nights are long, sleep comes in small doses. It is as if time has stopped for us. Schedules do not matter, food doesn't get eaten, even favorite dishes are stared and poked at.
I am selfish. I hang on, I know he is in pain, but I can't let him give up, I can't let go of hope that he will get better. I counter every hopeless suggestion with God's word and truth, I will not let him speak death . . .
Am I wrong? Is death merciful? At least for him I am sure it is. I am too selfish. I cannot go there. I freak out just thinking about it. So I pray for healing, I search for remedies, I sit with him for long empty hours. We wait.
Next month we will see.
I try to live, I try to paint my pictures, I try to smile and say the right things. I try to find reasons to laugh, to get him to laugh. I miss his laugh.
Sometimes I just sit and stare at my canvas, I can't think straight, I can't focus. I know it is there for me. Painting has always been my way to cope, my escape. But for now I have to force myself to create something, anything. I just don't see that anything matters anymore. I know better, but some days I can't get there.
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