Update and Happy Birthday

Here is an update . . .
As I have mentioned in times before, recovering from serious burns is slow going. I update when my family gives me the ok and when there is new progression to report. As of today, not much has changed. Christian is still in his rehab center doing "yoga for his fingers" (as he told the children). He continues to get stronger both physically and emotionally. Stephanie is slowly being prepped for her wake-up call. We have our fingers eternally crossed for that day when we'll be able to talk and comfort her. Her body is still strong, her grafts continue to look great. Thank you again for your prayers . . . God is still a God of miracles!

Also, near to my heart today is Christian's mother Mary.

Allow for a picture:

It was Mary's birthday on Sunday. Not only do I want to wish her a Happy Birthday somewhat belated, but also tell her publicly how much I love her.

Last month when I went to visit our patients in the hospital I left The Chief out in the waiting room with Mary. Because the Burn Center needs to be extremely sterile, children are not allowed. This is hard for a nursing mother who wants to spend as much time at her sister's bedside, while knowing that her baby needs her too. (Like Jane suggested today "Just get one of those sucky things that sucks all your milk out!" I need to learn to pump. But that has nothing to do with this post.)

The Chief is a determined little man, if you are not me (and you are not) he will typically give you a healthy five minutes before melting to tears. This means holding his breath until his face spans three shades (red, purple, blue) and you are praying for a heaven-sent intervention. So I don't leave my son with just anyone. It takes special people.

Like Mary.

After I had spent a good amount of time in Steph's room and then over to see Christian for the first time awake, I began to sweat (as did Lucy and Page--they admitted) about what The Chief was probably doing to Mary. Sweet Mary who has been at the hospital everyday, overnight, doing whatever needed to be done for Stephanie and Christian. The last thing she needed was to coo a cranky baby.

I threw off my yellow gown and surgical mask, trashed my gloves and ran out to the waiting room like a doctor answering a code blue. When the double doors opened before me I expected to hear the wailing of my child. Instead, there was Mary sitting on some smelly waiting room chair, poised as ever, reading a magazine with The Chief cozy in her arms. The little fella was fast asleep.

The woman is a angel.

Happy Birthday Mary!

Popular Posts