Love this guy! |
But, as I said, it was paying off, and at work we were
making headway. At the same time, things around the house were pretty
stressful, with Ethan working and trying to get the classes he wanted for
school, and the three younger kids all doing their schoolwork at home through a
state-sponsored online program. This was another of many little fortunate steps
along the path we’ve walked these past several months… When we moved down here
at the end of January, we felt that putting the kids in a home-school type of
environment might be good, as it had been a long five months or so of me
commuting from Seattle to Portland.
We thought it might be nice for the kids to not have the
stress of a new school on top of this move, especially considering Corrinne and
Liam will each be going to yet another
new school this fall—Liam to high school and Corrinne to junior high. Also, in
the fall, it will be nice for Corrinne and Annelise to be attending the same
school—I think Corrinne in particular really benefits from having her big sister
around. Although it has been a challenge for Darcie to coordinate schedules,
keep laptop batteries charged, referee who gets what computer, oversee home lab
experiments, correct papers, and pretty much work all day to make sure the kids
are on top of their schoolwork, the kids haven’t had to miss any school due to
the visits back and forth to the doctor. (Imagine how tough it would be to be
the new kid, then miss days and weeks and come back with a big scar on your
head?) Again, while we certainly couldn’t see it at the time we registered
them, this has been a fortuitous step along our little detour.
Another nice little benefit—my employer. Microsoft has just
been great to us through this time. In fact, about a week or so before the
surgery, three separate packages arrived at the home. One day while I was at
work, I got a text from Darcie saying, “we got a package from Microsoft, can I
open it?” The first day we were delighted to see that my boss and our market
admin had sent Liam a year of Xbox Music Pass, knowing how much Liam is into
making and listening to music of all kinds. It’s a really great service—check
it out if you haven’t. Liam was stoked!
Some of the swag sent by Microsoft |
A couple days later, I got another text about another
package. It contained many 8 by 10
autographed photos of celebrities who have done events with the company. My
boss had worked with our organization’s amazing marketing director to get pics
of people like Cee-Lo, Weezer, Shaquille O’Neal, Kelly Clarkson, Blake Shelton,
Zac Brown Band, the Band Perry, and probably another 6 or 8 artists (my memory
fails as I sit in the waiting room, typing up these thoughts). It was a great
surprise, and even if some of the artists aren’t Liam’s favorites, he still
knows and respects all of them, and hey, it’s just cool to have all those
autographs right?
Finally, a third package arrived—a microphone signed by the
rapper Macklemore and his producer Ryan Lewis! Totally huge surprise, and an
awesome keepsake for Liam! My boss, the company, and my employees have all been
amazingly supportive through this, and it’s been easy for me to hop on the bus
or streetcar to meet Darcie and Liam for appointments downtown; just as
convenient as something like this can be, anyway. Another little blessing that was
unforeseen.
Ethan, Liam and I had a fun day the Saturday before Liam’s
surgery. We hung out downtown, hit some shops, bought some records and CD’s,
had a killer dinner at Lardo (with a name like this, it’s got to be good,
right?) We then were 4th, 5th, and 6th in line
to see Tweedy perform—a band headed by Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy and his
son Spencer on drums. We were right up front, it was a great show and we had an
awesome time; it was nice to share a moment together and not dwell on the stuff
Liam had been dealing with.
The three weeks or so before surgery, when we had a date,
but had no appointments or tests in the meantime, were excruciating. Most days,
I’d just push it to the back of my mind—something to look forward to, to dread,
to appreciate and despise all at once. It was easier to just work or eat or mow
the lawn or do something, because the
upcoming surgery was all I could think about when I didn’t have to think about
something else. Some days, I was almost overcome with worry if I paused long
enough to think about it. But most of the time I was comforted and reassured,
through prayer, fasting, or just pondering all the good things I have to be
thankful for, and everyone rooting and praying for Liam.
The morning of surgery |
As I mentioned earlier, I’ve had to work a few Sundays, both
because of demands of the job, and also to conserve some sick time so I could
have more time with Liam after the surgery. A couple Sundays before the
surgery, we were able to attend church as a family, and I was totally uplifted
from the opening hymn, Lead, Kindly
Light.
I’ve heard the song, I don’t know, a hundred times, maybe?
But I had never really listened to it
before this Sunday morning. I was touched by the words of John Henry Newman, an
English missionary and priest in the 1800’s. The song’s message was perfectly
appropriate, tailor-made, it seems for our situation:
“Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; lead thou me
on! The night is dark, and I am far from home; Lead thou me on! Keep thou my feet:
I do not ask to see the distant scene—one step enough for me.”
We felt far from home, having moved just a couple weeks before
Liam’s tumor was found. With two or three weeks to go yet before the surgery,
all we needed was help getting through each day, each hour, each step. Learning
that Cardinal Newman had written this while on a missionary trip while very ill
in Italy, and myself having been a missionary in England, and knowing how he
felt, really connected with me. The remaining two verses are equally as
powerful and comforting; they talk of how the author hadn’t always lived as one
who would be led by this kindly Light, they express gratitude for God’s
blessings throughout his life, and they speak of angels of those he had loved
and lost, now watching over him.
Every word of the hymn perfectly matched and comforted us in
our situation. As we sang, the Spirit comforted me, and I felt led by the
Savior’s kindly light. After we finished singing, I whispered to Darcie, “Did
you read the words to that hymn?” I watched as she felt the same things I did,
and I could see the effect the song had on her, just so powerful and
comforting! I was asked to give the closing prayer in Church that day, and I
just had this overwhelming feeling that God heard our prayers and was blessing
us and leading us, and that he’d get us through this, ‘one step’ at a time.
Looking down, out the window from the waiting room |
Randy, our home teacher, came and assisted with the
blessing, and we had a great experience together, enhanced, I’m sure, by Randy’s
unique perspective and interest in Liam’s case. He even had a friend in optometry
school who dealt with a tumor behind his eye before graduation, but was able to
have it successfully operated on, allowing him to go on and fully recover and practice
optometry. Just another little way we recognize we are not alone in our
challenge.
The day finally came for the surgery, and we headed to OHSU.
It was a beautiful, clear morning, and I pointed out the view from the I-5
bridge looking eastward—you can see the houses on the docks around Hayden
Island, some neat little houses on the water, and when you look up the river, a
great view of Mt. Hood in the distance. It is really serene, at least for one
of the busiest stretches of freeway in the Pacific Northwest.
We got to the hospital about 20 minutes before our scheduled
check in time, which was great because Dr. Baird had finished her first surgery
early. We went into the pre-op area, and Liam got dressed in his flattering
hospital gown. We helped him get all washed up and sterile and put him on his
bed. They gave him a little IV cocktail to make him a bit less tense as he
prepared for full anesthesia. Dr. Baird again ran us through the procedure,
making sure we had no further questions. As a second doctor talked about the
risks of the surgery (including blindness and bleeding), we noticed Liam starting
to get concerned and comforted him. We had great doctors, and we had what felt
like half the country praying for us. At about 11:00 a.m., they wheeled him
into surgery as we wished him luck and gave him a last hug and kiss.
They anticipated the surgery would take somewhere between
three and six hours, depending on the consistency of this tumor—if it was
pretty soft, it would go quickly. If it was hard, it would take longer. We settled
into the waiting room, preparing for the first update, which would come at
about 90 minutes into the surgery.
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In good spirits, heading into surgery |
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