Temporary Setbacks

Last night's plan was for Esther to be discharged this morning after confirmation that everything looked good with the morning labs. Unfortunately, Esther spiked a fever in the middle of the night and is now quite sick. The docs are running more tests, changing medications, and calling in an infectious disease specialist. So we're back to square one. We'll have to wait and see what today brings.

Speaking of square one, another potential donor for Samuel was disqualified this week. This person wasn't compatible with Samuel directly, but he was willing to donate on Samuel's behalf through the the National Kidney Registry and their program of arranging paired exchanges. You can read about the work they do here: http://www.kidneyregistry.org/living_donors.php#welcome

What a pile of emotions come along with news of this setback!

~ Disappointment that it didn't work out yet again.

~ Sadness that that light at the end of the proverbial tunnel just got smaller.

~ Concern for Samuel. Dialysis is hard on the body. Long-term transplant outcomes decrease the longer one is on dialysis.

~ Grief for Samuel. He is longing for a transplant.

~ Relief that someone we know and care about won't be put at risk or suffer pain as a result of donating.

~ Thankfulness that the Lord used the screening process to reveal a potentially serious health issue for the donor.

~ Confidence that, if not this person, the Lord must have someone else in mind as a donor for Samuel.

~ Gratitude for the incredible selfless generosity of this would-be donor and the many, many others who have been willing to make the sacrifice for Samuel (and Esther and Katie!). These folks are heroes to us whether they end up being able to donate or not. How very grateful we are to each of them!

A special thank-you today to you, Chris. May the Lord bless you richly for your willingness to give such a precious gift!


Tom brought Samuel in this morning for his usual dialysis treatment. It is number 379, but who's counting? In the darkness of the early morning dawn, Tom and I were both able to look out our brightly lit hospital windows and wave to each other across the dark abyss between the two buildings. It was a bit surreal. I hate having two children in the hospital at the same time!