November 6, 2008

Day 3 Evevning

It's been a full 48 hours for Dennis now and we're more tha halfway to the 72 hour mark for maximum swelling. Dennis is definitely more lethargic and less responsive now, a sign of continued swelling. But the doctors continue to remark on his ability to respond to any extent.
The seconds and minutes drag by, Dennis rests quietly and thoughts run wild, about pressure readings, medication options, 24 more hours and possible surgery. One of Dennis' youth ministers arrives and asks if we can see God in this situation. Odd question, since, other than Shell, that's about the only one we've been talking to for the last two days non-stop. That's where Dennis' hope lays right now, so the answer is yes. We think about the one set of footsteps image, in terms of uncertainty, and hope that that's where Dennis is right now. Later in the evening, the neurosurgeon stops by to make sure we have each other's phone numbers and to say that he'll be available immediately. He's fairly certain the surgery option is inevitable, not something we're mentally prepared for, and not a decision we're ready to make alone. There is a young nurse, Jenny, who says there's still more room for the medications to work and that Dennis is young and athletic and that all this will work in his favor, not to worry about the surgery option just yet, but Dennis isn't her son, not her life to decide. The strange thing about watching Dennis is the fact that he's relatively unmarked, no broken bones, no deep cutting wounds, no stitches; just the head injury keeping him in a sleep state. In all honesty, he's amazingly lucky, and we just hope that the luck holds for one more day.