Wednesday, August 31, 2022 6:35 PM The photo was from Larry's room facing west around 8:30 last night.

Hello. Thank you for journeying with us! I'm trying hard to see the light that hope offers, even if it was hard to see today!

 Last night was peppered with naps between coughing jags & bedsore pain & restlessness for Larry to lie comfortably. Our longest sleep was between 4:00 & 5:20 a.m. I was happy to have a familiar night nurse from the previous 2 day shifts, taking care of Larry. I'm so grateful that I stayed the night, as Larry is showing loving appreciation through gestures & "thank yous". The morning nurse reported that the night team said it was Larry's quietest night. Oh dear! He's found his hollering voice & that's what every cough & moan have turned into. Can you imagine when his wrists are tied down & he can't address his terrible itchy-ness. That was my job, to scratch gently, as he is brutal when he does it.

   Larry was taken from his room for the image-guided surgery procedure to install a feeding tube through his abdomen wall, into his stomach. I followed along! Larry didn't wake up until close to the time he was taken for the procedure. When he opened his eyes, (of course, looking at the ceiling,) he said "This is a different room!" That perhaps was the highlight of the morning, vocalizing his awareness. I found out 4 hours later that the procedure couldn't be done, as Larry's rib cage is large & shaped in such a way that the doctor could not access the area of the stomach he needed to. There was no definite explanation of, "Where from here?" plan was given for now.

 I felt sick to my stomach all morning, & it didn't go away once I got the news. I just want Larry to have a day where at least one health issue improves or flies the coup, altogether. I don't want to get used to another & another being added to the list of suffering.

  A renal doctor came by to look at Larry's rash & said it was not from kidney dialysis???

   Yes, I know "Be positive! Look at what he can do!" Well, the analogy that came today wasn't pretty: If an outhouse exploded on the lawn, it would be really hard to see the little buttercup that began to bloom that morning. So among all the difficulties, I do see the gift s of progress when they happen & if I didn't celebrate them over & over in my heart & head, I'd be face down on that lawn. And most certainly the positives to focus on begin with the gift of hundreds of people supporting, praying, loving us through this war we're fighting. This war has many battles to overcome & we're feeling the weight of it these days. My Dad spent much of WWII in the trenches, at times I'm sure, when the battle seemed overwhelming & hope, hard to cling to. My aunt reminded me recently, of something my Dad used to say "There are no atheists in the trenches!" So for those who have joined us in the trenches, our hope for you is to experience the consolation of knowing you are loved & God's gift to us!

  One might call me 'dragging woman' if you saw me move about today. Apparently good sleep is important to function well. Last evening, before I set up my chair/bed, Jason joined us. I reported to immediate family the disappointing news. My sister Erin came around 2:00, followed by Shane. I left them, to get a ride home, from a faithful friend 'to the rescue'! Mary-Lynn was coming in around 3 to spend the evening with her brother, once again doing her best, to do her best for him to make him comfortable & reduce the stress of painful positions in bed. She sent me a fabulous photo of Larry propped up with so many pillows & a wedge to position him just like the 'how to' photos demonstrate, for someone in his circumstance.

  As soon as I got home, I watered my heat wilted balcony garden. Ate healthy left-overs & crashed for 2 hours. I'm almost human, now. Actually, I'm very human & my spirit has succumbed (for part of this day) to the weaker 'human' side of me. And that's ok, because I'm not staying there. Psalm 116:10 I kept faith even when I said "I am greatly afflicted!"