We met with the University Hospital Medical team this morning. I think I insulted the first doctor I met with my questions of "Are you married?" and "Will you call in a plastic reconstructive surgeon to help?" (He WAS the plastic reconstructive surgeon.) Open mouth. Insert foot. Ya'll he just seemed so young. However, my awkwardness aside, he and the entire team was smart. Like major overwhelming, studied at John Hopkins and did residencies at some impressive universities smart. They answered our questions and even anticipated every scenario we were thinking. They were blunt and brutally honest. They said they felt like they owed that to us. We agreed.
We have kind of felt like we have been in such a waiting game that it felt good to get some answers and some direction. They gave us a list of options that are offered here at University Hospital along with a time table. They also highly encouraged us to go to MD Anderson to hear what they have to say and see what options they offer.
The hardest part of the day for me was when they started throwing out statistics and numbers. That is the only thing I cannot handle. I hate numbers. I hate statistics. Hearing them boil my husband's life down to a number just shreds my heart.
After we talked to our boys, I texted our circle about being home. The first text I got back was from my brother-in-law. His words to me were, "God does not care about statistics." Oh to hug my sweet Taylor at that moment. He was God's voice to my ears. Even though Donald and I had said those words to each other on the way home, seeing those words in his text was just what I needed.
So I am doing what I was reminded by Ron to do yesterday when he sent me 1 Peter 5:7, "Cast all your anxiety on him because He cares for you."
I trust in you, Lord. This decision is yours. Donald's health and life is yours. Our marriage is yours. Thy Will Be Done.