“I’m so sorry I didn’t RSVP sooner for the party, it’s been a crazy week… we thought we would have to pull the plug on my mom… (awkward science on the other end of the phone line)… but we didn’t have to. Sooooo that’s super good. See you at the party…”
Then I hung up the phone and thought, why in the hay did I say that!?!? I don’t even know this mom from Eli’s school. Now I’ll be labeled “the crazy drama mom.”
But I haven’t been through this before and I’ve never been one to hide my feelings. I’m transparent toward friends (and strangers) and I like to think that makes me enduring… but I’m probably accurately labeled “the mom who shares too much, too soon” among my acquaintances.
I shared about my mom’s broken leg after Christmas and she was getting better. Then she wasn’t. She was getting worse. Much worse.
Her liver started to fail and she started to have living nightmares. Then hallucinations as she was falling in and out of consciousness.
Then she coded.
And I got a call from my dad who was weeping. He told me to come to the hospital because we were going to have to meet with the doctors and make some “decisions” about my mom’s healthcare.
Brad came home from work and we arranged babysitting for the kids. I slowly got ready for the day. I put on my clothes thinking, this is the outfit I’ll be wearing when my mom dies. Today, I’m going to have to make the decision to kill my mom. I thought of all my friends who have lost a parent already. I was about to join their ranks and I hated it. It was raining and I felt like the earth was weeping with me. I cried out to God in ways I never had before. Didn’t he hear my prayers and the prayers of literally hundreds of others? Wasn’t I being faithful to fast and pray without ceasing?
We got to the hospital and it was like a bad dream. We waited with about a dozen family/friends and the Dr called my dad and I aside. He said, “Things are looking serious with Suzan and I think it’s time we think about a transplant because a bed has opened up at Cedars Sinai.”
Before all this, my mom had been working through Cedars Sinai to get a liver transplant in the next 5-10ish years and we had been
begging pleading trying to get her transferred there for the past week. Now she was being transferred!
A close family friend (a second mom to me and Yaya to my kiddos) was standing next to me and we collapsed into a hug and cried and praised the LORD. That hysterical relief cry when you can’t breath or talk or see or think. I didn’t have to say goodbye to my mom today. God, you heard me! Little-nothing-me. You listened! You chose to answer my prayer. My mom was being transferred. It’s not over. There is hope. Hope.
(our feet in the ICU waiting for the transfer)
She was transferred that afternoon (Thursday) and within an hour of being at Cedars they had done a procedure to train 3.3 liters of fluid from her tummy and had a dialysis plan. We get to visit every 2-3 days and it’s hard to see my mom like that. We tell her stories about what the kids are doing and are blessed with slight fluttering of her eyes after each one. We play her favorite song (100,000 Reasons by Matt Redman… video below… watch it.) and can see her lips trying to sing the words. Daily she is going through tests to officially get her a spot on the liver transplant list. The liver is a crazy organ – a pill or machine can’t replicate it’s function, but it can regenerate.
Pray boldly, dear friends, that my mom’s liver would heal itself. That we can baffle the doctors with God’s GLORY!! Pray that while she is in the coma she has peace, rest and healing. That her body can heal properly from the five surgeries weeks prior (and specifically a yeast infection in her blood). That if she needs a transplant her body will be well enough to handle the operation and that the perfect liver will come up at just the right moment. I’m so thankful this isn’t over and I get the privilege to intercede on my mom’s behalf and I’m so thankful you get to too.
We will pray. We will wait. We will hope.