Saturday was certainly an eventful day.  We got to the Vanderbilt Emergency Room at 3:45PM and we left at 11:10PM.  When we arrived at the ER, we had to walk through a metal detector, and then the police went through all our purses.  They tried to confiscate my crochet scissors (giant scissors measuring a full five inches from the top of the blade to the bottom of the handle), but I went outside and hid them behind the newspaper sales box!  The police told me that I could either take them back to my car (which the valet had already parked), or I could give them to the police, whereupon they would be put gone forever.  I thought this was a little overkill, but not being one to argue with men who have  badges and guns, I acquiesced.  After observing the activity in the ER for 7 1/2 hours, I thoroughly understood the caution exercised at the door - and wished that they had also confiscated all coats with deep pockets, belts and phones that could be used as a weapon.  Kristie had the enjoyment of sitting next to two "Wayne's World" rejects and I lucked out with a very high, self proclaimed "granddaddy of the drug deals" who had been shot in the arm.  He said that he was better off than the negro who had shot him, because that man was lying in the morgue.  "If you shoot at me, I'm going to shoot back" was one of his many mottos.  It seems the saying "I was in the right place at the right time" applied (NOT!), because I got a front row seat to the conversations between "Wayne and Garth" and the gunshot victim with a vendetta.  They began discussing whether this was manslaughter in the first degree or self defense.  When "Wayne" asked the "shooter" why the police weren't there with him, he said that the police didn't know about it yet.  His time was spent starting up conversations in the waiting room and drinking water - which he would then spit back into the water fountain.  It was a LONG night.  About thirty minutes after they took Granddaddy Shooter back in the ER, the ER went on lockdown.  Another lady told us that she had heard the police talking, and the lockdown was happening because someone had been shot, come to the ER, and the police were afraid the gunman who had shot the patient in the ER would come back and try to finish the job.  The good news was there were police all over the ER.  The bad news was that neither Kristie or I could go back and sit with Mom and Dad.  We had to sit out in the ER waiting room, fully stocked with Saturday night drunks and swine flu patients whose main symptoms appeared to be terrible germ-spreading coughing fits.  Thankfully, the lockdown didn't last all night.  At the end of the night, the ER released Dad.  They ran another CAT scan and more blood and urine tests, but they couldn't find anything wrong.  They sent us home and told us we would just have to "Watch and wait." Dad was sore again today.  I don't know what is causing his pain, but knowing his aneurism is growing and his stomach is hurting add up to lots more worry for all of us.  

Dad knew that today was their 39th anniversary as pastor at our church.  Last night, he was talking about the sermon that he would preach today.  He said that he was pondering on what scriptures to preach on.  Mom said, "I know which scriptures would be perfect for your sermon.  How about 'By His stripes we are healed?'"  Dad looked at Mom, said that he KNEW her intentions were good, but that he didn't need her help to come up with any scriptures!  He could do just fine on his own.  Mom told Dad that we probably wouldn't be able to make it to Larkin in the morning, and he said, "Jeanette, if I am ALIVE, I will be there."  She reminded him that we were 3 hours away from Larkin, and he repeated, "Jeanette, if I am ALIVE, I WILL be there."  At 9AM this morning, he told Mom that we needed to leave for church, and we told him that it would take a full three hours to get there.  He started to say something, but he got choked up and had to stop.  That was a very emotional moment for everyone.  I told him that the church wouldn't celebrate their anniversary until they went back to church, and that seemed to help the situation a little.  It was very hard for both of them to miss their big day at church.  

Dad has slept most of the day, and Kay mentioned tonight what I had noticed this morning.  A lot of what Dad had to say today was difficult to understand.  Kay described it as being "thick tongued".  I'm not sure where this symptom is coming from.   Before, he was just confused.  Now he is having speech issues too.  Dr. Weaver, his neurosurgeon, told us that it could be up to a year before we know the extent of his permanent brain injury.  It might take that long for him to get part of his memory back, if ever.  This will be an arduous waiting game.  The tumor has shrunk dramatically, but as of now, his confusion has only altered slightly.  He is still very unsteady on his feet, and the threat of him falling is great.  Through it all, though, we have no doubt that we are exactly where God wants us to be.  Somewhere, there is someone who needs to hear Mom and Dad's testimony, and God will be glorified throughout this battle.

PRAISE BE TO THE GOD AND FATHER OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, THE FATHER OF COMPASSION AND THE GOD OF ALL COMFORT, WHO COMFORTS US IN ALL OUR TROUBLES SO THAT WE CAN COMFORT THOSE IN ANY TROUBLE WITH THE COMFORT WE OURSELVES HAVE RECEIVED FROM GOD.      II CORINTHIANS 1:3-4

I feel like we have been given a lot of comfort to share.  We have been truly blessed.  I know from experience that something as simple as a hug can give a person tremendous comfort.  A simple note can lift even the lowest of spirits.  A little compassion can go a very long way.  

Dad is starting round three of chemo tomorrow.  At the end of this week, he will be halfway through his treatment!  YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love,

Renee