(This was taken this morning at breakfast ... the story below is from a few days ago.) Thank you for your prayers and thoughts!We’re in Cali, across from the House Ear Clinic, for my mom’s brain surgery. It still doesn’t feel real. Our first day here was filled with pre-op appointments – tests and doctor visits to prepare her and her team of surgeons for the journey ahead. At the end of the long day, we bravely walked through the rough neighborhood to the Guest Center for a night of sleep. It seemed like a pretty dark world outside – a dark neighborhood, dark skies and a stressful situation to be preparing for brain surgery. So, Dad gave Mom a priesthood blessing. It was like a beacon of light came out of heaven, penetrating a pillar of beauty through the darkness and bringing the Spirit directly through Dad to Mom and our room. In the blessing, it said that Mom would be strong and courageous, and through her faith we would see that miracles can and will happen. Many other beautiful and peaceful things were said as well.
The next morning, we were at the hospital for her 5 a.m. check-in time. Surgery started around 8 a.m. and lasted approximately 6 hours. Then, Mom was taken to ICU. Dad and I were permitted to see her for 10 minutes of every hour. I was amazed at how beautiful she looked even after brain surgery. With her skin glowing, and a slight smile under the oxygen mask, she slept with a white, bowling ball bandage wrapped around the left side of her head. She couldn’t say much during the first few visits; the morphine helped her sleep. When she began to speak, she complained of serious discomfort in her left forearm – that’s where the IVs were; and it was red, swollen and painful. We continued to check on her every hour, and for about five hours complaints stayed the same and the swelling and redness increased, but nothing was being done to decrease the symptoms.
After an evening visit, at around 8 p.m., we heard a voice on the loudspeakers announcing visiting hours were over. We didn’t think the visitor regulations applied to ICU; but turns out they did. Thankfully, Mom’s nurse allowed us to come in once more to say good night. What a tender mercy. Shortly after we began our visit, Mom’s anesthesiologist came in to check on her. He tried to squeeze her hand to say hello, but Mom cried out. It was her left hand. Dad explained the pain she’s been in and pointed out the swelling and discoloration. I asked if it was normal for her to feel such pain when pressure is applied, and he said no. Then he turned to the nurses and asked how long it had been going on for. He let them know the IV needed to be removed immediately, and he asked Dad and I to leave while he worked on it.
Mom has amazingly small veins that like to hide. The nurses and anesthesiologist had already experienced the trouble with placing an IV in her hand several times. We’re sure the nurses knew she needed the IV out, but they were nervous about putting a new IV in. I could hear their relief that the anesthesiologist said he’d put the new IV in.
While Dad and I were out of the room, the anesthesiologist told Mom that he had been in the parking lot, headed to his car to go home, when he felt prompted to return to the hospital and check on her. Mom, even in her medicated state, sweetly asked if he was a spiritual man. He said yes. She told him how she had had a special prayer, and it had asked for the surgeons and doctors to be prompted by the Spirit in her care. She identified that he had followed that prompting and said thank you.
After a new IV was placed in the other hand, the anesthesiologist came to Dad and I in the waiting room and explained that mom had some infiltration – the IV fluid was not progressing past the forearm, but instead building up within her arm. He noticed the buildup was right below scars from skin cancer removal incisions, and guessed that during the removal process some of the lymphatic system had been removed as well. He said she should never have an IV in her left arm again. He also instructed Dad to massage the area for 10-15 minutes frequently, had a warm compress ordered for the arm and has her resting her arm above her heart. Then, he told us that he had been in the parking lot when he felt like he needed to return and check on her. I identified the thoughts as the Still Small Voice and thanked him for following the promptings from heaven. He didn’t say anything in return, but I know he knows it was true. We are so thankful for a doctor who would hear, recognize and follow the Spirit.
The next morning, we were at the hospital for her 5 a.m. check-in time. Surgery started around 8 a.m. and lasted approximately 6 hours. Then, Mom was taken to ICU. Dad and I were permitted to see her for 10 minutes of every hour. I was amazed at how beautiful she looked even after brain surgery. With her skin glowing, and a slight smile under the oxygen mask, she slept with a white, bowling ball bandage wrapped around the left side of her head. She couldn’t say much during the first few visits; the morphine helped her sleep. When she began to speak, she complained of serious discomfort in her left forearm – that’s where the IVs were; and it was red, swollen and painful. We continued to check on her every hour, and for about five hours complaints stayed the same and the swelling and redness increased, but nothing was being done to decrease the symptoms.
After an evening visit, at around 8 p.m., we heard a voice on the loudspeakers announcing visiting hours were over. We didn’t think the visitor regulations applied to ICU; but turns out they did. Thankfully, Mom’s nurse allowed us to come in once more to say good night. What a tender mercy. Shortly after we began our visit, Mom’s anesthesiologist came in to check on her. He tried to squeeze her hand to say hello, but Mom cried out. It was her left hand. Dad explained the pain she’s been in and pointed out the swelling and discoloration. I asked if it was normal for her to feel such pain when pressure is applied, and he said no. Then he turned to the nurses and asked how long it had been going on for. He let them know the IV needed to be removed immediately, and he asked Dad and I to leave while he worked on it.
Mom has amazingly small veins that like to hide. The nurses and anesthesiologist had already experienced the trouble with placing an IV in her hand several times. We’re sure the nurses knew she needed the IV out, but they were nervous about putting a new IV in. I could hear their relief that the anesthesiologist said he’d put the new IV in.
While Dad and I were out of the room, the anesthesiologist told Mom that he had been in the parking lot, headed to his car to go home, when he felt prompted to return to the hospital and check on her. Mom, even in her medicated state, sweetly asked if he was a spiritual man. He said yes. She told him how she had had a special prayer, and it had asked for the surgeons and doctors to be prompted by the Spirit in her care. She identified that he had followed that prompting and said thank you.
After a new IV was placed in the other hand, the anesthesiologist came to Dad and I in the waiting room and explained that mom had some infiltration – the IV fluid was not progressing past the forearm, but instead building up within her arm. He noticed the buildup was right below scars from skin cancer removal incisions, and guessed that during the removal process some of the lymphatic system had been removed as well. He said she should never have an IV in her left arm again. He also instructed Dad to massage the area for 10-15 minutes frequently, had a warm compress ordered for the arm and has her resting her arm above her heart. Then, he told us that he had been in the parking lot when he felt like he needed to return and check on her. I identified the thoughts as the Still Small Voice and thanked him for following the promptings from heaven. He didn’t say anything in return, but I know he knows it was true. We are so thankful for a doctor who would hear, recognize and follow the Spirit.
5 comments:
Julie: you are so BRAVE! I love you!!!! Keep up the good work. Even while facing this your smile is radiant.
I just love your family! I'm sitting here this morning reading this through tears. You set such an amazing example of keeping the Spirit so present in your lives. I want to be more like all of you. Thank you so much for the continued updates.
Oh my gosh, I have chills running up and down my body and I'm watery eyed. Thank you for sharing this sweet and crucial spiritual time in your lives. What a builder to testimonies. I'm sorry I haven't checked your blog for a few weeks to know what is happening with your family until now....they will definitely be in my prayers. Hang in there Rognons...you are amazing people with big faith. Heavenly Father loves you. I love you!
ps. Congrats on the BOY Jes...so cool! Two girls and now a boy...I hope to follow in your foot steps.
Julie you look adorable! You have been in our prayers every day and the wild ones seem to have extra favor with the Lord. Our hearts are with you. We willl be glad when you are home.
Love,
Cathy and all
Hi Julie, Roger and family:
We are so sorry that you have had to go through this new storm in life. From your story about the anesthesiologist, it shows that you are being held in our Heavenly Father's hand. You two have had to weather other storms and you have always been an example of fighting and enduring while keeping a great outlook on life. When I grow up, I want to be just like you both.
Please know that you are in our prayers and that we will do anything that we can for you.
We love you
Don and Chris
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