i could not possibly have known what was in store for us on this day five years ago, but i do know the miracle that unfolded before my eyes set us on a journey that has been life altering for so many reasons. it was midmorning when i checked sarah into the medical office for a follow up appointment. the previous six months had been dreadful. earlier that year we had been told her days were numbered. her body was so weak. her lungs so permanently damaged. her heart was surrounded with fluid and her immune system was beyond fragile. the antibiotics and steroids they had pumping through her veins were like water to an already dead plant. we were as mentally prepared for the worst as i suppose any parent can get.
i watched carefully as the doctor examined sarah. first she poured over the results from the blood work taken a few days before. then she listened to her chest. i looked for a clue or two of expression as she repositioned the stethoscope on sarah's back. i'd learned over the years to look for those tiny signs of human emotion on a doctor's face. i suppose it helped prepare me for what i was about to hear. i remembered her look so clearly back in january of that year, when this same doctor handed me the list of hospice providers. it was that conversation that ultimately lead me to resign from my job to care for sarah fulltime. if 2009 was to be her last, i wanted to be sure to be a part of every moment.
as she flipped the switch on the light box to examine the chest x-ray taken earlier that day, i was afraid to look. i heard her words before i walked over to look for myself. sarah's lungs were the clearest I had viewed since being taught how to read an x-ray when she was a baby. i could not recall in sarah's twenty years on earth a doctor say the word perfect to describe her. so i asked her to repeat what she said. "perfect. i said perfect." i'm sure my face contorted in all sorts of confused looks, which had her repeat for the fourth time..."perfect." we both agreed we were taken by complete surprise, but every indicator that had been so wrong in the winter was now in normal range. the doc never uttered the word miracle, but she didn't have to. our tight embrace said it all.
i watched carefully as the doctor examined sarah. first she poured over the results from the blood work taken a few days before. then she listened to her chest. i looked for a clue or two of expression as she repositioned the stethoscope on sarah's back. i'd learned over the years to look for those tiny signs of human emotion on a doctor's face. i suppose it helped prepare me for what i was about to hear. i remembered her look so clearly back in january of that year, when this same doctor handed me the list of hospice providers. it was that conversation that ultimately lead me to resign from my job to care for sarah fulltime. if 2009 was to be her last, i wanted to be sure to be a part of every moment.
as she flipped the switch on the light box to examine the chest x-ray taken earlier that day, i was afraid to look. i heard her words before i walked over to look for myself. sarah's lungs were the clearest I had viewed since being taught how to read an x-ray when she was a baby. i could not recall in sarah's twenty years on earth a doctor say the word perfect to describe her. so i asked her to repeat what she said. "perfect. i said perfect." i'm sure my face contorted in all sorts of confused looks, which had her repeat for the fourth time..."perfect." we both agreed we were taken by complete surprise, but every indicator that had been so wrong in the winter was now in normal range. the doc never uttered the word miracle, but she didn't have to. our tight embrace said it all.
sarah and i went to ihop for lunch that day to celebrate. it was a day of new beginnings. i wasn't sure what they would look like, and i can assure you a quilt shop was no where on my radar screen, but oh how grateful we are that on that morning of july 30, 2009 we were given a new lease on life. her gown that day may have been made of paper, but it would be fabric that would soon change our direction completely.