Surgery

The lad wanted everything documented

Isaac was wheeled off to surgery at 1:50 this afternoon. It's now 4:30 and I am too distracted to write well, too bored to do anything else, and too much at peace to worry.

Apparently, about two years ago, Isaac was exposed to a virus, probably something common such as measles, and his body made a mistake. It created antibodies to fight the virus but the body's attack force sighted on the wrong target and began destroying the nerve cells in his esophagus.

Like I said... everything

Over the last couple of months he has lost about 10% of his weight because the food can't get past the clenched...

Pager has gone Off!

To the recovery room!

...

OK... I'm back. It's been a half hour and the doc says everything went well.

The muscle at the bottom of the esophagus has been cut to keep it open so food will get in, and while they were there they removed the suspicious pancreatic tumor (about the size of a nickel... the doctor called it "a cute little thing.").

Throughout all this I have had to deal with Brenda and it hasn't been too bad. She is hinting that she is moving out from her boyfriend's... The subtext isn't hard to read.

She has been dropping hints that she could come over to help with Isaac, and wearing the expression of a lost puppy.

Not buying it. I get what she is selling, and I have had enough of that subscription.

I'm told that sometimes people have a hard time reading me. When I am unsure of a situation I wear an expression devoid of expression.

: /

That's what I wore today.

I'm a naturally loyal person and she relied on that. But I've worn through that tendency when it comes to her.

Three things that make this easy...

First, I no longer love her. The hurts she gave me make it clear she cannot love me the way I need and though I care, that isn't enough to be any more than a dispassionate partner in dealing with issues which arise around our children.

Secondly, I no longer trust her. I forgave too many times, was betrayed too many times, for her to win that trust back.

Lastly, I'm not that masochistic. She isn't good for me. The controlling nature, the emotional demands, emotional abuse, is clearly not what I need, not what God wants for me.

Isaac wanted a picture of every step of the surgery. That included a picture of him prepping for it with Brenda and I in it. She moved to come beside me. I told her to go to the other side of the bed.

Yeah... I could see it smarted. Oh well. This time the cut was by my hand. Simple.

I guess sort of surgical.

She teared up. My face... flat affect.

I don't particularly like the idea that a muscle designed to keep stomach contents, acids and food, in Isaac's stomach has been severed. But it is what is best.

I don't particularly like being unresponsive to someone who seems to be hurting, but it is definitely what is best.

...........

So... it will be an hour or so before I can see him... I think I'll go get something to eat and come back and add more to this when I have more to add

...........

Isaac is in his room... Brenda has left.


What a good boy!

He doesn't want to trouble anyone... but he, hesitantly, asked for pain meds twice. Morphine. He wanted to sleep, but he told the nurse to take her time, not to worry about him.

What a good boy!

He asked me to pray for him. I thought he wanted a blessing, and he said "that too", but what he really wanted was to say a prayer of thanks for all everyone has done for him and for getting through it all.

What a good boy!

"You're a good Dad..." he mumbled. "Thank you for getting me..."

Perhaps it's morphine speaking, but... what a good boy!