Numb

I've been asked "how are you?" more times than I can count.  Those who've known anything about my Dad's health situation have asked me regularly how I'm doing.  I appreciate the question and recognize from the times I've asked it that it is a well intentioned one.  But it is sometimes difficult to know how to respond.  Have you ever felt unsure how to tell someone how you're doing?  In the blur of tests and results and prognoses Dad has had over the past 2-3 weeks, I can only describe my own disposition as "numb."  It isn't that I hurt, I just don't really feel anything right now.

As I type these words I sit in a hospital waiting room with family.  Dad's preacher Jon is also here.  And we wait with a beeper that reminds me more of Olive Garden than surgery.  Waiting rooms are odd things.  I suppose we need a designated place to wait.  We're gathered with other families who are similarly waiting for news of their loved one, with their own buzzer handy (party of five?).

In some ways to this point the news about Dad has been eerily similar to the situation with our Mom.  Of course we're all hoping this turns out quite differently.  But who knows?  Doctors always act far more confident than their competence justifies.  To listen to the nurse and anesthesiolost talk, you'd think they were taking out Dad's tonsils, not his lung.  So, like so many families before (many of whom I've been the preacher sitting with), we wait.  There are many levels of uncertainty.  One is the success of the surgery itself, another is whether this leaves any cancer in his body, while yet another is what they're going to do after this -- chemo?  radiation?

The degree of uncertainty in my life right now may be good for me on a certain level.  I didn't even know I was driving up here last night until 2:30 yesterday afternoon.  When my [half] brother Arthur asked me how long I was staying, I didn't know how to answer.  Because I really have no idea.  So here I sit, feeling like I have far more to do than I can even recall in this moment.  I likely won't be using my time very well over the next few days.

About an hour ago, I went on a Starbucks run with Jon and my brother-in-law Joel.  While we were out, I asked him about his recent mission trip to Thailand.  I asked him what God taught him while he was there.  Could it be mere coincidence that his response was to "slow down"?  I'm not sure whether this says more about how hard-headed I am or God's sense of humor.  My Dad apologized to me last night for my "having to come up here."  But perhaps this trip will not only be an opportunity for ministry to my family, but a chance for the Lord to remind me of truths I likely shouldn't have forgotten in the first place.