Day of Rest

Today (Wednesday, 10/22) has been a mostly quiet day.  Nicole's respiratory function is improving, and they've been dialing down the settings on her ventilator.  They're tweaking meds as necessary, and doing everything they can to mitigate negative impact to the kidneys.  Heart rate was up in the 150s for most of the day, but has settled into the 130s this evening.  They're still worried about her blood pressure and don't understand why it is high; they spent a lot of time today searching with ultrasound to see if the could find a blood clot in her veins somewhere, but didn't find anything.  They're planning to surgically place a new central line tomorrow, and they're going to wait until Friday to do another Echo and EKG; hopefully the heart shows improvement from when they last did them on Monday.

Most of the time, Nicole is relaxed, but a few times each
day, she makes this scrunchy face that cuts me to the quick.

On Saturday and Sunday, the Veil was very thin in Nicole's room; I could feel the weight of eternity pressing-in, and I have no doubt that Nicole was seeing the normally unseen, though I could only sense it.  I have not been blessed with that type of gift, nor have I sought to try to cultivate and obtain that gift from God.  On Monday, I think this was largely unchanged, but we had a non-hospital distraction that required much of our attention that day.  Late that afternoon, I was sitting next to Nicole's bed, lights dimmed, holding one of her hands, and talking to her, since I knew she was conscious.  The music therapist came and asked if she could come in.  Nicole loves her; she came up to the other side of the bed with her guitar, playing softly, singing softly.  I don't know that an angel direct from the presence of God could have sounded more beautiful.  She first sang "Rainbow Connection," and then "Let It Go" from Frozen, and then "I See The Light" from Tangled, and then another song I didn't recognize, but she sang them all in a manner that I simply cannot describe; there was a healing, spiritual quality that I would never have imagined possible.  My broken spirit was healed, and I am certain that Nicole's spirit was too - it was an unforgettable experience for me..

Since Monday, though, eternity has slowly withdrawn and cloaked itself from my dull senses.  I have no doubt that angels are still attending Nicole, but the atmosphere in her room is much more "normal" than it was a few days ago.  For now, we continue to seek the Lord's guidance and wait patiently.