Day 7: Going Fishing

Our normal Sunday routine starts with a better-than-normal breakfast, church, In 'N Out or Dos Coyotes with the family for lunch (on Dad's dime), followed by a relaxing afternoon.

Today was a little different, with two Sorbellos (well, one Sorbello and one former Sorbello) in the hospital. After a late night with Dad at the hospital, I slept in until shortly before the 10:30 service at First Baptist and rushed out of the house to church with Sam and Siena, who had returned from a trip to Starbucks. It was a joy to see so many people at church who have sent us "I am praying!" e-mails, text messages, phone calls, etc., in the past week. I can't say enough how blessed we feel to have so many friends who love us and care about how Dad and the rest of the family are doing.

There was no progress with Dad for most of today. It feels a little bit like going to a lake that you know is stocked with fish and just sitting around with your bait in the water, waiting for a big lunker to snatch up your bait. After awhile, you wouldn't mind catching just a small fish, maybe even one you couldn't keep. And then you would be happy with just a distinct nibble, even if the fish gets away with your bait. At the end of the day, instead of lamenting the poor fishing, you (hopefully) start coming up with things about the day that made your fishing expedition worthwhile. For example, you might say, "Well, it's nice just to be fishing with some good friends." Or, "At least we didn't snag any lures on the surrounding vegetation." If you've ever been fishing with me or Dad, you know exactly what I'm talking about. :)



Today was a little like a day of fishless fishing, because it seems like there haven't even been any "nibbles" since Dad's last surgery. However, we felt a tug on the line tonight. Right before mom was headed to the hospital to see the Armstrongs and me (I was visiting with JJ) she was talking with Dad's newest nurse about the sad lack of improvement in Dad's prognosis. Perhaps because this nurse hadn't worked with Dad before, she started doing some pain stimulation checks to see if he would show signs of neurological activity. He hasn't reacted to these tests in the past couple of days, but, when she pushed on his right thumb, he pulled his hand away slightly! She called my mom over and did it again, with the same result. Then she did it a third time, and again Dad recoiled slightly. The nurse and Mom were excited, but it obviously is VERY small step in the direction of healing.

In other news, to see if Dad's slow progress can be explained by a post-surgery stroke, this afternoon the neurologist said that they were going to do an MRI of Dad's brain tomorrow. We hope and pray that he did not have another stroke. However, even without a stroke, absent a doctor-defying miracle, this is going to be a long, slow road to recovery if God has more work for Dad to do.

While we are encouraged by the "nibble," we realize that Dad's future is still in God's hands and totally out of our control. (As healthy people, sometimes we fail to realize that this is true for each one of us, as well!)

Until next time... pray for more nibbles and maybe a lunker or two! :)