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I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve. Six hours left before midnight, and I’m still stuck here at Children’s.
At least Natalie’s doing better. That’s the good news. Her temperature is back to normal as of yesterday morning. A small Christmas miracle, maybe, or else the result of good medicine. There’s talk that if she holds her stats steady for the rest of the day, the doctor might decide to extubate her before long. I’m not about to get my hopes up, but it’s nice to know she’s not getting any worse.
Haven’t heard from Jake. Not a phone call. Not a text. He hasn’t stopped by to see our daughter unless he’s inherited some kind of Japanese-American ninja skills that allow him to sneak in during the five minutes it takes me each morning to heat up cold coffee from the parents’ lounge.
I haven’t heard from Eliot, either. Dr. Jamison, I should call him. It’s just as well. He probably feels awkward about what happened with Jake. Doesn’t want to make things worse. His number’s stuck in my phone, the one with the dead batteries, so I couldn’t get in touch with him even if I wanted to.
Which I don’t.
It’s been quiet around here the past few days, as I’m sure you can imagine. No calls. No visitors. It’s like Natalie and I are stinking Christmas ghosts that nobody can see. Nobody wants to think about us. It’s too depressing. But it hasn’t been all terrible. It’s given us a lot of time together. I talk to her quite a bit these days. I tell her about the people who love her, Grandma Sandy so far away in Massachusetts. The little boy Sandy and her husband adopted, who I guess is Natalie’s uncle even though he’s only in fourth or fifth grade. In an especially generous moment, I even told her about Grandma Patricia and how she took care of her those first few months out of the hospital.
Those aren’t the only grandmas, either. We talk about Grandma Lucy quite a bit, Natalie and me, when no one else is around. Talk about the faith she had that Natalie would be healed. I don’t know if Grandma Lucy’s still in the hospital or if she’s passed away already or what, but Natalie and I sometimes pray for her. It makes me feel weird, though, because Sandy’s husband said we shouldn’t pray for people who’ve already died, but since I don’t know one way or the other, I figure God will have to understand. Besides, if Grandma Lucy’s in heaven now, that means she’s even closer to God so her prayers must be making that much more difference. I don’t know how solid that is biblically, but it’s comforting to think about.
I kept checking the Safe Anchorage website for updates on Grandma Lucy until my phone completely died on me. Apparently she was suffering from water around her heart sac or something like that. Sounded serious. I spent a lot of time on the comments, reading what people posted. Found out quite a bit about her life, actually. It’s interesting stuff. Someone should really make a book or a movie about it. I guess she grew up in China. Had missionary parents there. Lived through some big war. I couldn’t figure out which one, but it sounded pretty intense. After she got back to the States, she kept on having all kinds of adventures. I guess she was a sort of missionary lady for a while, even into her old age. Spent some time in the Middle East teaching English. Someone mentioned meeting her a few years ago in China, so I gather she went back there from time to time. Had all kinds of grandkids and great grandkids.
There’s a place where you can sign up for regular email updates about Grandma Lucy’s condition, but my battery died as I was typing in my address.
Just my luck.
Other than that, and of course everything with Jake, things are going pretty well. I mean, Natalie’s getting better. Looks like my fears about her never coming off the ventilator were unnecessary. I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be here, but I know it won’t be forever. One day, they’ll take out that breathing tube. She’ll be strong enough to go home ...
Don’t ask me where home is. I don’t know. Not yet. But I’m going to figure it out. That huge doctor, the one who came in with the itty bitty chaplain to talk to me about Natalie’s care? Turns out I was right and he’s not a medical doctor, but he’s got some crazy advanced degree in social work, and I guess one of his jobs is to help people like me get set up with services. He’s been on vacation for the past two days, but he’s coming back to work right after Christmas. I’m sure together we’ll figure out some sort of a game plan.
I’m a little surprised at myself that I’m not thinking about Jake more. I guess there was part of me that was so certain it would end like this, I’m not too upset by it. I’m not a big sobbing mess or anything like that. It’s not like this is my first breakup.
So things are all right. Whenever I get too worried about what the future will hold, like how I’ll manage to support my daughter when she’s too sick for me to go to work and I don’t know a single soul in Seattle, I just remind myself to breathe and take things one step at a time. It reminds me of this little cross-stitched verse Sandy’s got hanging up in her kitchen. I’m sure you’d recognize the passage if you read it, the one about birds and flowers and being anxious, all that stuff.
You know what? It’s good advice whether you believe in God or not. Do not worry about tomorrow.
I’m giving myself an early Christmas present by promising to remember that one simple rule.