Family Emergency

I'm back in Utah folks. This past week has been a very emotional week for me and my family.

I got a call on Monday of last week telling me that my grandpa was in the hospital. He thought he had the flu over the weekend, and come Sunday night he was in so much pain he told my grandma to take him to the hospital. Turns out his intestines were twisted. They had to do emergency surgery right away.

The surgery went better than expected. They originally thought that the intestines had a knot in them and that they would have to cut part of them off in fear of dead tissue, they were only twisted so that was an easier fix. However, complications have come since then. My grandpa has always had a bad heart, and has been on blood thinner for years. They had to thicken his blood before the surgery to keep him from bleeding out, and they couldn't put him back on the blood thinner after the surgery for the same reason. Well, the thickened blood put him at a high risk for a stroke. Then he got pneumonia...badly. We're still working on that. Then he got an infection. And now his heart is beating twice as hard as it should be.

He's in really bad shape. After hearing that he had taken a turn for the worst I got on the next flight home and landed here at 8:30 this morning. I went to see him first thing today. He's sedated most of the time, though he responded to me a little bit today. I was holding his hand and talking to him; he opened his eyes, tried lifting his head, tried talking (I could see him moving his mouth a little bit (he's on a ventilator)), he moved his feet, and the thing I loved the most...he squeezed my hand- a couple times. Everyone says that was the most responsive he's been to anyone. Some people say that it wasn't really him because he's on so many drugs right now. I don't care what they say though, it was my grandpa that was squeezing my hand, it was my grandpa who was looking back at me, it was my grandpa who was moving his feet. I feel like I'm holding on to a thread right now, but I'm holding on to that little hope for dear life.

 I finally admitted out loud to John last night that I'm angry with God for doing this to my grandpa and my family, at the same time though I still find myself keeping faith that He'll pull my grandpa though this. 

My grandpa has been like my dad. I love my dad don't get me wrong, and we have an amazing relationship, but my grandpa is the one that has always been there for me. My grandpa is in all of my childhood memories. My grandpa put a roof over my head, gave me a bed for me to sleep in, clothes on my back, and food in my belly; he has always been my biggest defender, and my biggest cheerleader.

So this can't be it.

Not yet.

The doctors say that the next 48 hours will tell us how this is going to turn out in the end. So I ask you, any of you and all of you who are reading this, please pray for him. Please pray that he'll gain his strength back; that he'll be able to beet the pneumonia, that he'll be able to fight off the infection, and that he'll be able to come back home.