I spent over an hour yesterday writing of how Katherine is affecting the doctors and other staff at the hospital...but, technophobe that I am, I let the cyberspace monster eat it. Maybe Kat’s smart friend Lauren will be able to help me retrieve it later. So this will be a short one.
Yesterday, the neurology squad came through and I talked to Dr. S. No warm and fuzzies there. He told me very clearly that Katherine will be in ICU for WEEKS. Her life is not out of danger. She remains critically ill. There are things that can still go wrong at this point, but I don’t know how to spell them. It doesn’t matter. God knows what they are.
For some reason, I need to tell you how she looks. (Don’t read this if you’re squeamish...it might be too real.) My beautiful girl was fairly unrecognizable until she opened her eyes and a shot of that unique aqua blue flashed out. She had a huge ventilator tube twisting her swollen, torn lips to one side and a feeding tube distorting her nose. Since we’ve switched to a tracheotomy and feeding tube in the stomach, she looks more like Katherine, although her face and neck are still swollen. Her head has been shaved in patches. It looks like an unlovely patchwork quilt. There is a square on the right front part of her head with several angry-looking holes, one of which has a tube coming out of it. There is a large shaved area across the back, where the main vertical incision was. But she still wears the matted ponytail of what’s left on top, darkened by crusty dried blood. Clear tape covers much of the whole mess. There are ‘boo-boos’ all over her body from one ghastly life-saving procedure after another. Tiny machines are attached to tubes entering her arms, hands, abdomen, thighs...which are hooked up to big scary-looking machines crowded around the bed. Her calves are in soft Velcro casts, and one foot (at a time) is in a harder contraption meant to strengthen a particular muscle that will enable her to walk again one day. But it is her eyes that make me want to wail like those women whose “weeping was heard in Ramah.” Those big beautiful aqua eyes, clear as a pristine sea, are out of Katherine’s control. Eyes that could pierce straight through you, eyes that focused in on you as if you’re the only one that matters, now roll around the sockets like big blue-green glass marbles. The right one is infected, red, and suppurating. The pupil hides in the inner corner for the most part, like it’s afraid of what it will see if it comes out. The left is constantly jumping around, but I know she can see out of it. A tear rolled down her cheek when I showed her a picture of James. (But, tough chick that she is, she let me know she wanted to see more.) Most of the time a black patch covers one eye (alternating sides), so she looks like a battered little pirate.
Seeing her like this just got to me last night. Conversation flagged. I decided to play Bible Roulette. Here are some excerpts from the page to which it opened:
The “you” referred to to here is the 'suffering servant,' whom we believe was revealed as Jesus the Christ.
Precious Katherine, I pray that the Lord God Himself will give you breath and life. I pray that His son Jesus will guide you through this dark place with his light, and will lay his pierced hands on your troubled eyes and heal them completely. I pray that He will release you from this prison of pain, this dark dungeon of despair.
After I finished praying and said “Nite nite, sleep tight...,” I looked at her face one last time. She looked strangely beautiful to me. Somewhere in the background of my mind I could hear Eric Clapton singing, “Darlin’, you look wonderful tonight.”
(Guess I lied about this being a short one.)