Stably Unstable

"Stably Unstable."  That's how the nurse describes Jordan to Heidi today as Jordan continues to lie with his eyes closed.  A few times each hour his arm moves to rub at his nose--but his eyes stay closed.  I am happy to see some movement.

Throughout the day, Jordan's doctors come in and out of the room, once again trying everything earlier doctors have tried and occasionally something new.  Dr. Standich, the Attending Physician yesterday and today--who is also the Bishop at the church we have been attending the past few weeks--comes in every few hours to tell us that he is concerned and answer any questions we have.  After months of talking with doctors, today I am running out of questions.

Back and forth from the hospital to the Ronald McDonald House, down the street to run an errand, off to a friend's house to pick up the kids, back again for dinner, back to the hospital, home again.  Somehow I manage a few hours of work on my laptop in the gaps.  

Late afternoon my older sister shows up to spend a few hours with Jordan.  By now, I am tired and frustrated Jordan has taken another turn for the worse.  "His virus count is down to 3 million" I think to myself, "and his lungs should be improving."  Even so, I am strangely calm--either because I feel confident Jordan will make it through this period or because my stress hormones have run out of juice.  Probably a little of both.

Before his shift ends, Dr. Standich shows us the CT images of Jordan's lungs. They have much more inflammation than the image he compares this to from several weeks ago.  Dr. Standich takes the time to once again tell us the details of the air pocket that is ominously large and sitting precariously between Jordan's lungs and his heart.  I see the air pocket visually for the first time, and the concern on the Dr's face, but nothing really sinks in.  Time for sleep, and more prayer.