Good News for People Who Love Good News

It would be another two and a half hours this time last week before we would receive word that Sally’s procedure had ended and she had made it through. We’d just found out that Vince was headed to ICU, and we were all still packed together in a secret spot at the hospital Keith, Mercedes and I had scouted out that morning. A place where we could wait the day out in near privacy and still keep an eye on the all-important digital, color-coded board that told us just where our girl and the man risking his life to save hers were in their respective procedures. It was anybody’s guess as to when the doctors would call and give us the news we’d been praying for all day.

A week has gone by since then, which is hard to understand. It feels like a minute and it feels like a month. As you guys know, Vince is already back at the hotel/apartment and he’s recovering more each day. He sent a text this morning asking if it would be ok to visit and we said of course, but if you wait a day we might be home.

That’s right. Read that last sentence again. This morning Dr. Humar made his rounds and informed Sally that he was going to take her off of the medicine that he’d been using to encourage clotting, he was putting her back on a solid foods diet and that he wanted her to be take a couple of walks and work with PT. He said if she did all those things and her hemoglobin count stayed up he’d be sending her home tomorrow.

We just got a report that her hemoglobin count is 8.9!

She walked the halls today, actually walked up 16 stairs (the amount we have at our little place in Charlotte) and she ate breakfast and I’m assuming lunch (I gave my watch over to Katie and I’ve been making ready here at the homestead).

Now, obviously we might have to stay another night for this or that reason, but the bleeding has stopped and all the team agrees that Sally is on her way to a full recovery.

This is the news we’ve all been waiting for. Sally has a new liver. Done. Check. Over.

There’s a million thoughts going through my head right now but the one I feel most convicted to act on is to try to say thank you to each of you in some way, right here and now. We watched our community come to life when we announced that we were going to do this. There’s literally too many people to name, and there’s no way to name one of you because all of your gestures big and small have meant the world to us. The way everyone showed love to Sally and me will be forever on the tip of my tongue and will always fill my heart to the brim with joy. Each prayer, each dollar, each sweet note and gift, each party and pop up… there’s no way we can ever say thank you, but each one of you has a little stake in that new liver that you can call your own.

On a personal note I hope this blog turns into more of a lifestyle focused thing soon, as I’m very tired of hacking my way through medical lingo. I’d like to type “wood-fired” more often than “hemoglobin” and “sauna” and “bicycle” more than “cholangitis” or “duct.” Well, duct is a crossover, we’ll keep duct but use is sparingly.

It will feel so good for Sally to be home, out of the hospital (in a little over a week!) with a new liver and a heck of a story to tell.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

And all God’s people said:

AMEN!