Wednesday, April 22, 2026
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
There is patience here, sometimes
He has changed the sea into dry land;
through the river they passed on foot;
therefore let us rejoice in him.
Monday night Andi picked me up 9:25 and we headed home. Dr Pirwitz said he and rest of the cardio team would talk about what to do next at their Wednesday meeting. So I imagine they’ll be talking in the afternoon together, as they did three years ago, when Andi, Margaret and I attended the meeting. This time we aren’t invited … I hope that’s a good thing.
As I read the description from three years ago, I realized that at least two of the nurses then also worked with me on Monday. Hilda and Becca didn’t remember me, but when I looked back I remembered them. I was tired and took a nap while we waited. The OR was running behind, and by 4:30 there weren’t many nurses left. By 9:39, when I was released, there were nearly none. One, in fact. Our friend Lisa was still in surgery down the hall, until 10 pm she told us later. Even a frantic hospital in the daytime is quiet at night. Not peaceful exactly … but close.
Dr. Pirwitz saw what he needed to see, I guess. The screen looked fuzzy to me, though. The new aortic valve and stent were clear, and the other blockage, in a “T” and not openable with a stent, was about the same now as then. Maybe a little worse.
So our decision about what to do is also about the same as in 2023. And we’ll think/pray/listen to the docs the rest of this week and do what we think God is guiding us into now.
Interesting to me how my thoughts have changed since then. In both directions, mostly positives about leaving it all alone, and positives about open chest bypasses. One thing I feel most of the time is peace, regardless of how we move forward. I am grateful for the gradual disappearance of fear, and clearer confidence in God. Not the kind I think about, or put words on, but the kind when as Cynthia Bourgeault said, “awareness and surrender come together.” And even if that’s only for an instant, that instant changes everything. God isn’t some noun, some thing to talk about. At least for a moment, God just IS. The verb rules.
Shannon describes some of this as the “gift of faith.” His friend Casey calls it a “moment of grace.” For now I’ll listen to my friends and as much as I can, incline my eyes and ears toward heaven.
Here’s a sweet haiku from Dan Frachey, who writes beautiful poetry and sometimes includes it on his Facebook page. This one is accompanied by a photo , a fresh new daisy rising from the old old earth.
Appearing unannounced
Beauty springing out of mud
Love’s kinda like that
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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