Even in the Hard

What do you do when you're stuck in a cold foreign capital, waiting for a passport that refuses to come? One thing we tried was keeping a seizure journal for Mary. We started strong on Sunday morning, intending to record every one of Mary's seizures and its time so that her doctor would have more to go on.

Seeing it on paper made us realize just how out of hand her condition is. She had six seizures in the bathtub, one while drying off, several while getting dressed, and four more at breakfast. By the time she finished breakfast, we decided her journal was full enough for awhile. We don't have time to record seizures when we are trying to keep little girl safe!  We're in survival mode here, pure and simple. We have a decent video of a typical seizure, and that will just have to do. 

We are trying not to feel desperate about the passport. We know our facilitators are doing all they can. They have made many phone calls on our behalf, and even went to the office in her region to make a personal plea. All for naught, so far. All we can do is wait and pray.

Another thing we've tried is taking long walks. We thought we scored big yesterday, when we happened upon a nice little playground. Little girl loved it when we put her restraint on the swingset so she could enjoy the swing.  The joy on her face was priceless.

Then she decided she wanted to climb on the jungle gym. Of course it wasn't for children with special needs; and of course it was the dangerous kind with bare metal jutting out everywhere. Just looking at it almost sent this Mama into a full-blown panic attack.

We did everything we could to keep her safe. I handed her up to Rob, and he followed her around with a firm grip on her the entire time. When she came down the slide I was at the bottom to catch her. It was a good system. Scary, nerve-wracking, but good.

That is, until little girl reached the bottom of the slide and got tangled up with Mama. Not because of a seizure, just because. We both went down. All I could think about when we landed was that she was going to be hurt, and it would be all my fault.

Fortunately, Mary was fine. Me, not so much. I'm now sporting an ace bandage on my wrist and trying not to think about how much it hurts. Thankfully, nothing was broken but my heart. We tried extending our walk after we left the playground; but it was too cold, and our hearts just weren't in it. So we limped our way back to the apartment, feeling defeated.

We covet your prayers right now. Not only for her passport to come, but also for answers to her seizures. We know that the medication we are giving her right now is not at all effective. We are desperately praying for answers. We are spending hours researching and learning all we can. We cannot wait to have her evaluated by those who are wiser and more knowledgeable than we!

Aaron and John are hanging in. Aaron is longing for home, but emotionally doing as well as can be expected. John is John. We find ourselves in the same trenches here as at home. Mary is drawn to him because he is closer to her size and emotional maturity, and knows more of her language. We are praying that in the long run, he will strive to be a good role model for her.

Hoping today will bring a passport and an exit plan.

Grateful that even in the hard, even as we are limping and struggling, that the Lord Himself is with us. In that lies our peace.

We close this report with a plea to the plumbers of this country. If it's not too much trouble, then could you please get together and decide whether the hot water goes on the left or right? We don't care which, as long as you choose one. If not, then could you at least make all the faucets the same in the same apartment?