God never forgot us.

When I blog, I usually keep it light. Mainly because that's just who I am, but also I think it's how I cope.

I have a tendency to get bogged down and overwhelmed with the ideas of problems, or things that might go wrong. So my big girl way to cope? IGNORE IT. Make light of it. But mainly, ignore it.

So when my mother-in-law told us that she was going to write a book about Paul's life and hoped we would help her with the details, I knew I would have to go back "there" and actually dwell on the dark times. NO IGNORING IT.

For years, our lives were very dark.

For years, I thought God forgot us.

And reliving those times while Pam wrote the book, were both hard and cathartic.

But this isn't my story to tell, this is Pam's story, and I told her that I would be happy to post a link to her book here, http://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=9781622954353.

But let me end with this:  God never forgot us, and I know He never will.

Biopsy results

Paul has been slow to recover from #operationremoveafunkystitch. The wound itself is pain enough, but on top of it, he's come down with step throat or something.  And when he gets sick, it takes him twice as long to recover.

BUT, we did get biopsy results from his polyps, and the good news is that the C word was not used. The nurse said the inflammation is chronic gastritis, and they still want to get him scheduled to come in and swallow a camera for further investigation. So, now we wait for it to be scheduled. 

Though slow to recover, NOTHING is stoping this crew from being excited for our trip up North. 

Run and hide deer, cause the one in the middle is coming for you.

#operationremoveafunkystitch

This weekend we headed up to the land of milk-n-honey, for Paul's surgery, that was scheduled for Monday morning. We got up there on Saturday, and had the chance to spend some time with the family, and friends, and make the most out of an otherwise crummy situation. 

Overall, a good weekend.  But Monday?  Monday, was all business. 

Well, sort of. 

First of all, I decided I should name the whole thing. You know, it helps having these types of distractions to keep you going. Odd, but true. And since this was all centered around getting some funky-type-of-stitch removed, I decided that  #operationremoveafunkystitch should be birthed. 

So, bright and crazy-stupid early, 5 a.m. to be exact, we were up and ready to get the party started. And probably the biggest obstacle of our day, was just getting out of my parents house, without tripping the Secret Service off. Because, for reals, my parents house is  Ft. Knox. 

But we did it! 

And then before we knew it, we were back doing what seems like old hat to us. Even though, as we were going over past medical procedures, it dawned on us that 2008 was the last one. 4 years!

You wanna know what's changed in 4 years?

G has a blog now.

So, this one was slightly surprised to see me documenting everything. But hey, I gotta blog everything! Right? Everything?

EVERYTHING. 

Okay, not really everything, because you would die if I showed you pictures of the incision. Eeeek. 

So, I'm sticking to the fluffy stuff. 

It's been a while, since I've seen Paul floating high, and it's hilarious!

And then just like that, he was being wheeled down the hall to the operating room.  Blah.

So, what's a loved one to do when they are waiting?

You ALWAYS come prepared, with entertainment.

You make up a whole dramatic scene in your mind, where the nurses and doctors start shouting things like,  " STAT!" "CHEM 7!" "SOMEONE GET THE PADDLES, WE'VE GOT A D-FIB!"

You wander the halls just enough, to not get lost, since you can get lost virtually ANYWHERE.

You SERIOUSLY and FOR REALSIE, consider pressing the help button every time you go to the bathroom.

 You try out many different seats.

And you drink disgusting hospital coffee, in attempts to curb your LOUD growling stomach. 

But thankfully, the moment you are waiting on arrives....

The surgeon, who is a flippin' braniac, Dr. G., finally comes out to talk to me.

She talks fast, she talks smart, and she leaves my little brain wheels spinning. Don't get me wrong, I love her! I believe God sent her smart hands to us, but honestly, if she really knew me, she would think I'm an IDIOT.

A little side-note, she was telling us she will be out of the office next week, because, oh you know, she will be in China, teaching other brilliant-smart people, about their brilliant-smart people stuff, when, suddenly Paul pipes up in his loud-drunk-on-narcotics voice, "WE WILL BE IN MICHIGAN! I'M GOING HUNTING!"

Oh me.

Anyways, she let me know all about the stitch removal and how she left him "open" so he can heal from the inside out. Also, she biopsied some stuff, and hopefully we will get the results on Thursday, and she also wants Paul to come back in and swallow a pill-camera sometime soon. But as far as the reason we came in, that nasty infected stitch, well, it's now officially taken care of!

You know, considering how I've seen Paul in the past, I think I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Will he suddenly start withering away? Will he be in so much pain he can't even look me in the eyes? The fear wants creep in. But I fight it. Through prayer, and my much successful approach to life, called denial.

But as of today, as of now, he is here, and he is good.

So good, McDonald's and his phone were in direct order after surgery.

And I'll take it.

I'll take him any way I can.

Prayers appreciated.

I very rarely ever discuss this topic.

Well, at least on my blog anyways.

Paul, as I think most people know, has Crohn's disease. He's been battling it for years now, and as long as we've been together, it's been a part of our lives. And for many years, it seemed Crohn's alone was our lives. But thankfully, for about 3 years now, he's been in remission.

He goes yearly for blood work, and just a general check-up to make sure everything is under control. His last visit, his numbers showed some "inflammation" so the doctor wants to do some scopes to check it out. Also, he's got some infected metal stitches, from his last major surgery, that have to come out. It's an outpatient procedure, but he still has to be put under.

Considering all the surgeries he's even gone through, this is cake, but still.

We will be heading up home soon, and I would appreciate prayers.