Bill’s surgery
Although I don’t think I’ll ever forget the many emotions I have felt so far through this experience, I feel like I need to make a notation in our family’s hisotry of this scary, humbling time. The neurosurgeon neither emphasized nor downplayed the risks of the surgery — on the minor end of the scale, there was the possibility of facial numbness or weakness, more life-changing risks included hearing loss and facial paralysis, and serious complications included stroke. So it speaks to the severity of Bill’s chronic pain that he didn’t hesitate much to choose the surgery, while I hung back, considering less invasive (though less effective) options. Ultimately, though, Bill just felt he was ready to get his life back. In the weeks leading up to the surgery, my mode was basically denial. Up until the last minute, I still didn’t seem to think it was going to happen.
Yesterday still seems a bit surreal to me. When I got home last night, and finally got the kids to bed and the house in order, I went upstairs to see the bed that Bill had made just that morning. But by that time, he was lying in intensive care, head bandaged, in significant pain, nauseous, and more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen him. The surgery was a success, in that the surgeon did indeed locate the offending artery, which was embedded with the fifth nerve root (the trigeminal nerve), and he was able to separate the two. It was just the outcome we had hoped for. But as the day wore on and the anesthesia wore off, I could see that Bill’s recovery is going to be rough for a few days. I guess the human body just doesn’t easily tolerate a hole being cut through the skull and brain being manipulated about.
But as always in times of crisis and need, I am amazed and humbled at God’s grace. As always, I pray not for tangible outcomes, but for fortitude and the ability to cope with whatever the outcome may be. I pray for Bill the inner strength to move through his pain toward recovery. And I pray for a wordless comprehension on the part of the kids, that they understand why their world is a little topsy turvy at the moment.
And also humbled by the generosity of the people in our lives. Our church community is the source of so many of our friendships, and both those and friends outside our church have stepped up to offer prayers, support, and the gift of their time to help us through this. I am continually thankful for these people in our lives — this connectedness to others who will share our burdens, rejoice with us, and sincerely offer their assistance with everything including childcare, grocery shopping, meals, and even lawn mowing (offered by an age 60-something woman from church who reiterated she was quite sincere, and would happily mow while Bill is recuperating). Of course all the help is wonderful, and I am glad to have it. But even more, I am glad to feel so much loving support, giving me the gifts of strength and peace of mind. God’s grace at work.
And it should not go without mention that I am grateful for the advancement of science, that there is an option for treatment for Bill’s pain, and also that there are skilled surgeons like Dr. Peter Basta to perform delicate operations that astound me (he even provided pictures to satisfy my scientific mind).
My parents just arrived this morning to watch over the kids so that I can get to the hospital. I hope Bill has found some level of comfort and needed rest over the night, and I hope he will move from the ICU to a regular room today. More updates to come…






