How Wonderfully Complex We Are

     If you were one of the recipients of my text yesterday and thought it very odd or just a little too much private information and couldn't appreciate the sheer joy and jubilation that went into every single word, you've probably never had surgery before or been around someone who has.  I could apologize for getting so personal, but hey, facts are facts, and in this particular case, these were very important facts!!!  Someday you might appreciate these things like we've learned to appreciate them, but my prayer is that you'll never have to do so.  That text was the short version of what could really sum up this whole post:

"Farted, moved from A to Z, catheter out, NO CANCER, and pudding!!!  Praising God!!!"

     Go ahead.  Cry a little.  I am.  And if you aren't crying, maybe you can just shout out a great big "Hallelujah!  Thank you, Jesus!"

     Yesterday was a day of tremendous progress.  Harris texted me in the morning already to let me know that he had passed some gas, and when I got there right after lunch, he was sitting in the bathroom all by himself with a very cautious look on his face.  He hadn't eaten anything solid yet, but the beef broth that had gone in at point A was ready to come out at point Z, and when you know it has to pass through a section of your body that has been manipulated and stapled back together, that's just a really big deal!

     A little while later, the doctor waltzed in to check on Harris and decided that he was ready for the catheter to come out.  More progress!  And then the words started spilling out of his mouth that the pathology results had come back already, a day earlier than we had planned, and that everything was benign!!!  Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jesus!!! 

     The next words that came out of his mouth were the fact that Harris could start eating a liquified solid diet, and when Harris heard the word "pudding," I think he was momentarily more excited about that than he was about being told there was no cancer in his colon.  My picture up above doesn't even begin to portray the enthusiasm he exhibited when he was opening up that little container and anticipating that first spoonful of deliciousness.  This was the first thing he had eaten besides popsicles and broth since Sunday night!  He even had to smell it before he could eat it, and he savored it one slow spoonful at a time over the course of the next hour. 

     When we asked the doctor about when he thought Harris would be released, he first started telling us that it would be Sunday or Monday, but then he changed it to Friday or Saturday and explained to us that it just all depended on how well his body kept progressing.  In our minds, we figured it would be Saturday or Sunday before he would go home, so when Harris texted me this morning saying that he could be dismissed as early as this afternoon, we were both shocked and amazed.  My morning was pretty intense with several tasks to accomplish at home, and mentally I couldn't fathom the thought of bringing him here and being ready to care for him 24/7 like the nurses had been doing.  Very scary! 

     But when I got to the hospital and saw his IV undone, I realized that that was becoming a reality.  The final test was whether or not he could keep solid food down after lunch, and if he could do that, they considered him ready to go home.  He ate a grilled cheese sandwich and a pile of mashed potatoes, discharge instructions were given, and before long we were back here at home getting him all situated on the couch just 72 hours after they first opened up his body on that operating room table.  He'll be logging a lot of time on that couch in the next few weeks as his body continues to heal, but at least he'll be here with us and not facing any chemo or radiation treatments.  We know that the cancer bullet can strike anyone at any time, and it's so painful when it does.  All we can do is thank the Lord for keeping us from being hit by it. 

     As I was thinking about all of this this morning, I couldn't help but think of these verses from Psalms 139: 

¹³ You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
      and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
   ¹⁴ Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
      Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.
   ¹⁵ You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
      as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
   ¹⁶ You saw me before I was born.
      Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
   Every moment was laid out
      before a single day had passed.

     The body is wonderfully complex, isn't it?  Just amazing!  How anyone could doubt God's workmanship in creating us is beyond me.  We may never understand why He decided to throw this little hiccup into our lives, but we do know that His plan is perfect.  Even if we would have heard the word "malignant" yesterday, we would have trusted Him.  He had it all planned out before Harris was even born.