We had a wonderful day yesterday. Sure, Sue's health continued to resolve and improve, but that wasn't what made it wonderful.

After the usual 'shift change' wake up at about 6.00 and the re-arranging of the room to put my bed away and set up for the day, we drew back the curtains and watched the black turn to grey, and the grey transform to living color as the night was caressed, embraced and finally overwhelmed by the dawn. With the doors and windows open we listened to the birds and enjoyed the wafting breeze tinged with just a little cool. It was serene, peaceful and surprisingly intimate - an echo of The Garden perhaps?

This start seemed to set the tone for the day. We talked freely and naturally through the morning about all range of things, but in a deep sense of gratitude pervaded everything. We mused about how it is that we can feel so much at peace and so deeply grateful in circumstances that we would not ever have chosen for ourselves and that are undeniably challenging and confronting. Again we recognize the paradox of living in a 'both/and' world and not an 'either/or' one.

[Warning, I get a bit 'preachy' in the next bit!]

As we reflected, it crystallized for us that God has been daily answering our early prayer that this journey would not cause us to lose faith. As we unpacked this in quiet conversation we saw that this was due in significant measure to how we have chosen to think of and speak about our journey. To borrow the words of Paul in his letter to the Corinthian church, we really have been challenged and strengthened to "take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ". We daily (sometime hourly and minutely) choose to seek out, reflect upon and speak about the joy midst the pain, the humor within the sadness, the jewels among the brokenness. 

While many things have, and will continue to, confront and confound us we truly do have an overwhelming sense of being privileged in the journey and offered opportunity to continue to serve and grow in the process.

After reading the passage from 2 Corinthians 10, and a psalm, I played the new (December 2014) song "Battlefield' by Kathryn Scott. It has been one of many significant songs that have ministered to both Sue and me over the weeks and months. The chorus echos the reality that by God's grace we have a choice about how we think and speak and act, even when (perhaps even especially when) things are tough and life sucks. We can indeed sing on the battlefield.

You make me sing on the battlefield
You make me dance through these tears
You grace my heart to believe again
You make me sing on the battlefield

 

We then talked for quite a while about 'end of life stuff'. It was natural and free and un-selfconscious. It may well sound strange, but it was a most memorable and enriching Sunday morning.

[End of especially 'preachy bit]

 

Medical/Wellbeing Update

Following this morning's visit by the Palliative Care Doctor (and his entourage of four!) Sue is now free of all tubes! We are now in a process of converting from delivery of background pain medication by syringe pump to oral forms. 'Shots' of morphine delivered subcutaneously will still be used to manage breakthrough pain (usually associated with 'exercise' like showering, walking etc). Sue will be monitored for pain and 'independent capacity of key bodily functions' for the next 48 hours or so with a view of returning home if all goes well.  In the meantime we will be provided with some assistive equipment for home use and I will be trained to administer morphine shots as required (not very hard!).

As I write Sue is sitting comfortably in a folding camp chair looking very comfortable and relaxed. There is no doubt that we are in a better place than we have been for at least a couple of months. Sue just commented that it is only now that she appreciates just how bad the pain was then, how challenging daily life was, and how much we were just tenaciously carrying on through force of will.

We are now more seriously, but still cautiously talking and planning (with the Palliative Care Team) for a final trip to Adelaide (and maybe Yarragon if things go spectacularly well). Part of that equation which is unclear as yet is the extent of the positive impact of the radiation therapy on Sue's pain. For that to unfold, we wait...... patiently.......

PS: We had a snake slither across 'our' veranda and into the near garden this morning. It looked like a small (75cm?) Western Brown. How ironic would it be to die from snakebite while at the hopsice.... We just decided to leave it alone and expect it to do us the same courtesy!!