Logan has continued to improve. He's down to 12 litres of oxygen and his bilirubin level plateaued; today's number was, at long last, the same as yesterday's. The only VOD factor that hasn't improved is his weight, which is stubbornly hovering around 19 kilos. Given that he bottomed out at a little under 15 kilos during the worst of his chemo last Fall and began the process in August at a little more than 17, 19 represents a significant gain. However even with that said, no one appears to be worried. It's all just part of a long recovery process.
So how do I feel these days? I'm not even sure anymore. I feel numb. I feel tired. I feel overwhelmed. But I'm not without hope. I pray and pray and pray for that healing touch to make Logan completely and amazingly well once and for all.
As I drove home tonight, I ruminated over this journey we've been on and the story of Jesus healing the blind beggar came to mind. The disciples asked Jesus why the man had been born blind; had he or his parents sinned? Jesus said no; it had happened so God could use the circumstance to show Himself to the world in a visible, tangible way. I often hope that that's why this has all been allowed to happen to my sweet Logan and our family: So God can show Himself in a mighty way. As a person, I wish that He would show Himself using someone else's dear child --or better still, no children at all-- but I know it's not my decision to make. Each day I pray that He will show Himself and help to make this unforgivable, mystifying ordeal make an iota of sense.
Anyway, that's all for tonight. I wish I had the eloquence of previous months, but I am, to be blunt, simply out of gas. When inspiration strikes, I try to write, but when it doesn't, my keyboard tends to stay silent.
Blessings to you all, and thank you for continuing to pray and pray and pray. Good night.