Deb is scheduled for surgery on Friday, November 2, 2007 at Centegra in McHenry. The pertinent details are as follows.
Centegra Northern Illinois Medical Center, 4201 Medical Center Drive, McHenry, IL 60050Phone: 815-344-5000. Our address is 1902 Hunters Lane, Spring Grove, IL 60081. When Deb comes home, you may call us at 815 675 6130 or write to Deb at email@example.com
Surgery is scheduled for 3pm. I imagine Deb will be in the hospital for a couple of days. I'll be off the next week after her surgery to be with her.
As you can imagine, for a girl who never had surgery or was in a hospital as a patient from her birth until May of this year to have her medi port implant, she is having some problems with sleep and stress.
She will have a mastectomy without reconstruction. We don't know about the aftercare yet, whether radiation will be involved or not, but she visits the oncologist tomorrow and I'll post anything that qualifies as new information.
I read the old posts of this blog over the weekend, and I was amazed how this journey has moved along and the changes in our feelings. Through it all, we have had the support, love and prayers of many fantastic people. People, some of whom we don't know, and will never meet, have added their petitions to God for Deb's healing and the restoration of her complete health, both physical and emotional. All we can say is may God bless you.
We acknowledge God knows how this will end, and has known since the beginning of time. We believe that we will see some day how our brief life fits into the fabric of time. We know our human emotions of fear and doubt exist because we are not perfect in our trust of God's plan for us.
Take care, all of you, and make Wednesday a spontaneous hug day. Trade a hug for a smile from someone who needs an emotional pick me up.
A Psalm of Life
Poem lyrics of A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou are, to dust thou returnest,Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, - act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sand of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.