Okay, that title may seem a bit snarky, but it’s more than that: it has to do with our acceptance of what had to be done and both of our openness to those who were there to help us.
… and it’s a little snarky as well. We have to keep our sense of humor.
As we left the story last time, we were waiting for the surgery to happen on Tuesday, but it was delayed. Laura, who had been told to fast from food & water from midnight the night before, was understandably both hungry and thirsty and cranky about it – especially since I ate lunch in front of her. (Which by the way were some yummy tacos brought to me by our new friends from Awaken Boise.)
After they delayed, they gave her the green light to eat and drink until midnight again. I was sent out into the world to obtain sustenance in the form of In-N-Out Burgers, which I expeditiously procured.
By this time, Laura was feeling way more alert after the steroid injections. The swelling in her brain was clearly affecting her and the steroids brought her right back from the edge: but it wasn’t enough. They still needed to do the surgery.
Wednesday morning arrived (November 20th) and we were both understandably nervous, Laura even more so since she was more alert and conscious due to the decreased swelling. However, here is where the “open mind” comes into play – we were both feeling a sense of peace that we were in the right place at the right time and knew that God had placed us there with the neurosurgeon He had chosen for us, and the church family nearby to support us. In spite of the dire situation, we were both ready for what was coming.
And then the nurse came in. It was supposed to be at 2pm, but they came around at 1pm to start prepping her and wheeling her to the “ready room” or whatever they call it. I quickly packed up my backpack with my computers but left all of our clothing and personal items behind in the room because I didn’t know where they would put her after surgery. Seems you don’t necessarily come back to the same room afterwards. In our case, Laura got assigned to the “NeST” the Neuro Surgical Trauma wing for post-surgery recovery. There, the nurses specialize in helping those with neurological trauma recover. I assumed of course that I would have to go back and get our things once we knew which room we were assigned to.
I worry a lot about logistics even in the face of such traumatic events. I think it comforts me to dive into the details and not look as much at the big picture.
Anyhow, they started wheeling her to the operating room and deposited me in the surgery waiting room. They had little walled-off areas for families and friends of people undergoing surgery to gather in. I was given room 5 – there were about 6 chairs, but there was only me. There were some other small family groups in other “rooms” waiting for their loved ones. As I sat there, I started notifying people through texts and emails and however else I could and then pulled out my computer to send a note to my managers (who were very understanding and supportive about the whole situation). Just as I was settling in for the long wait, which was supposed to be between 4 and 5 hours, I was called into the hallway outside the waiting room. Laura actually called me on someone else’s phone. It spooked me a bit since I had her phone with me, but she wanted me with her in the final prep area. I jumped up and ran in. Even though I had just seen her not 20 minutes ago, I can’t describe the sense of relief that I felt seeing her again. She just wanted me with her as she consented to the operation and the surgeon went over some of the final details. Laura asked him to not just be an excellent surgeon, but also an artisan: to rise to a new height in his skills.


These are two pictures before she went in to prep for surgery. The first one was before they left me in the waiting room. You can see the look of pain on her face here. The second picture is after they let me in one more time to see her before they wheeled her into the operating room. Here, we had just prayed and given over our worries to God. She was now in His hands and the skilled hands of the surgeon and his team.
They escorted me back to the waiting room where I was beginning to feel some of the weight of what was happening. Thank God for good friends and family and the distractions they gave me. I think I spent the first 3 hours of the wait on the phone to several people, all who wanted to just talk and comfort me while I waited. Thank you, Cindy, Charles, Daniel, John, and Sally, for helping me through this hard waiting time.
After talking so much, I was glad for a little quiet. Since it was only 3 hours in, I knew I had to wait at least one and possibly two more hours. I had a little coffee – yes, it was 5pm and that would mean I would be up all night, but it was warm and comforting. And free. I read some in a book. I tried to sleep. I started to get nervous. They had wheeled her in right around 2pm, and now it was after 7pm. 5 hours and I was getting nervous. Several people started texting me and worrying with me (it’s nice to share the pain, right?). 8pm rolls by and still no news. The surgeon had told me he would call me directly after the surgery. I made sure my ringer was on and that it was loud.
Finally, at 8:47pm I got the call: she was out and in the recovery room. He told me that they were able to remove the tumor and gave me a rather too-detailed description of it. He said she was going to take one or 1.5 hours to come out of the anesthesia, so I would have to wait a little longer before I could see her. The sense of relief was powerful now that I knew the dangers of surgery were past. And there were a lot of potential dangers in this kind of surgery. That’s why they pay neurosurgeons the big bucks. I won’t harp on all of the risks involved, but let’s just say that in the brain, the tiniest mistake could shut the wrong things down and have devastating effects.
He did not make any mistakes. Thank God!
About an hour and a half later, I heard a nurse come into the waiting room and start looking around. Since the little rooms were all semi-private, I stepped out into the hallway to see what was going on. She looked at me and said: “oh – you look like who I’m looking for. Your wife is right outside!” They were taking her to get a post-operative CT scan, and she had insisted that she be able to see me before they wheeled her back for that. She was right in the hallway on the bed – a little groggy after all the drugs, but she was still there: still herself. I could see that.
After our emotional reunion, the nurse told me to go to her new room and gave me that room number. I was still worried about getting all of our stuff out of the old room, so I was determined to move all the stuff from old to new. But first, I was going to check out the new room and drop off my backpack before going to get all the stuff. Well, once I got there, I saw that didn’t have to bother: they had gathered all of our personal item, put them into bags, and taken them to the new room. I was so touched that they had done that. And then I saw the new room. Wow! It was huge! Like a luxury suite! I knew then this bill would be astronomical.


On the couch, you can see the bags of personal items they brought to the room for us. You’re seeing the room without the bed since they put her in the new bed while in the OR and wheeled her up in it. The couch in the back is actually a sleeper sofa. Much quieter than the squeaky cot they rolled into the previous room, but a little too firm to relax all the way.
I was just standing there looking at the room when the shift nurse came and introduced herself to me. It was only a few minutes later that Laura arrived, and they plugged the bed in up against the wall. By this time, it was about 10:45pm.

Here is Laura with her new hair style. It looks like they used hair gel to make her hair stand up away from the incision. They actually used super glue to close the cut and put a sealant over the top of it. It makes the scar much cleaner and tidier than if they used stitches or staples. She is still scraping that sealant off in places a month later, but most of it is gone now. This picture is also before the swelling set in, which still hasn’t completely gone away.

A close-up of the incision so you can see it was barely there. The yellow stuff is iodine I think, and the purple/blue stuff is a marker where they traced out where exactly to make the incision. They only had to shave a narrow band where they needed to cut, so she still has most of her hair and if you’re not looking for it, you can’t even tell they cut that part away.
Of course, what was most important for Laura at this time what that I had promised to go get her some hot chocolate once she was out of surgery and able to drink it. At 10:45 I was sure that Dutch Brothers would be closed – and it was. However, there was one nearby that was open until midnight. So, out into the cold I went to obtain the desired hot chocolate (the best you can get from any coffee place, by the way).

This is Laura enjoying her Dutch Brothers Hot Chocolate and our angel nurse Madie.
At this point I was joyful, emotionally exhausted, and yet too wired to sleep much. While I waited between the surgeon’s phone call and the nurse showing me to Laura, I notified all that I could through text messages and phone calls. Now that we had our hot cocoa, it was time to try and rest.
With Madie’s help, I pulled out the sofa bed and got ready to sleep. It was finally time to end this whirlwind of a day.






