The Silver Thread Returns

Life tends to go in a straight line, sometimes wobbling a bit here and there until suddenly it doesn’t. During the calmer times it’s easy to be convinced that previously worrisome health situations have magically gone and to believe that you are finally “home free” from the stresses of the past. None of us want to admit setbacks may occur from time to time, but the reality is that they do.

We don’t have to like it. Unfortunately we may have no choice but to accept it.

These past few weeks have clearly put me back in touch with what is, rather than how I want life to be. My daughter Lorie has not been well and after a couple of weeks of recurring headaches and fatigue I have to admit that something is definitely wrong. While trying to convince myself that it’s very likely a passing flu bug—nearly everyone around us is sick—and because transplant patients with no immunities get hit hard, there’s no denying these symptoms could also be indicating a recurring brain infection. Surely her compromised immune system hasn’t let her down again!

Once more, that old familiar fear grips me. My mind relentlessly leaps to the worst possible outcomes while simultaneously reassuring me that this will pass—even though calls to the transplant team and the infectious disease clinic clearly indicate that the waiting game has begun again! Waiting for blood test results and waiting for the MRI appointment scheduled three long weeks away feels like deja vu.

The continual saga of relief, gratitude and eventually complacency is probably familiar to all caregivers. How eager we are to allow ourselves to believe that this new phase we’ve finally reached isn’t going to change and will, in fact, just get better and better.

In an earlier blog, I talked about my personal belief that a silver thread connects our lifetime events both positive and negative. After surviving an almost fatal embolism followed by being rejected as viable for transplant and then sent home to get her affairs in order, Lorie’s future looked grim.

Thanks to her cardiac doctor’s perseverance and determination they succeeded in having the decision reversed and despite all odds my daughter underwent a successful transplant surgery. In retrospect, I realize that each life-threatening situation led to the next step, culminating in her miracle surgery.

It was difficult to imagine any blessings coming from her brain infection, but as difficult a comeback as it’s been for her, once again there were valuable insights and a better understanding of issues affecting her immediate family. For the first time, she could literally “walk in her fetal alcohol children’s shoes.” Not despite, but because of her difficulties, she is able to care for them in a more empathetic and understanding manner.

I still remain hopeful that this recent setback is both temporary and minor. Some symptoms point to a brain issue but many do not. This time she’s able to function at work and at home and remain reasonably active. Still, the wait remains for the MRI to tell us exactly what is going on and for the blood tests indicating improvement.

Once again, one ear is tuned to the phone and each morning I breathe a sigh of relief when her morning message is to simply firm up our plans. Again, that little knot of fear constantly simmers just below the surface.

It’s hard for me to fathom what could possibly be gained by more pain, more tests, and more trauma. When is enough, enough? My conflicting thoughts fight to invade my mind while it seeks to make sense of this unexpected turn of events.

We all search for sense or meaning when our loved ones are going through these trials. And yet, I still choose to put my faith in that silver thread and the knowing it will undoubtedly lead to an even better future. Trusting life isn’t easy during difficult times, but I know in my heart that no matter the uncertainty and fear, miracles silently wait to reveal themselves. Life holds a better plan.