First of all, this isn’t who you think it is. No, her blog hasn’t actually been hacked…although after my post she’ll probably change the password. Badum-ching! My name is Elissa, I make bad jokes, and my dear friend and superior-to-me fellow blogger (who is sans computer access for the time being) has asked me to update everyone to let them know how the family is doing after Little Man’s rigorous surgeries. She even suggested that I shamelessly plug my own blog, which I absolutely won’t be doing, if only for the sole reason that it would be embarrassing for everyone to see that I haven’t written in over three months.
That said, bear with me as I’m a bit rusty.
Oh, and I like to ramble.
I’ve always understood the difference between sympathy and empathy to be a matter of feeling. While sympathy is sharing the feelings of another person, or having compassion for someone, empathy is actively and vicariously experiencing what that other person is actually going through. It’s more intense, am I right? We can sympathize easy enough, but true empathy requires true love.
Isaiah 53:4 says, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” (ESV) I can see where that may have been confused. I mean, anyone who has truly experienced empathy knows the intense emotional toll that it can take on you. Walking with friends who are hurting, or suffering is hard. If you’re blessed (or cursed, whichever way you want to look at it) with an empathetic heart and have been watching this incredible mother friend of ours who, for obvious reasons has been beside herself with anxiety, chances are you’ve been anxious too. You haven’t been eating either. You haven’t been sleeping well either. You forgot to XYZ before you left the bathroom stall. All because empathy has put you in the place of that mother and now you have a child going under the knife too.
But while suffering with those who suffer seems exhausting, painful, wearisome – rejoicing with those who rejoice is our reward that makes it all worth it. Many of you have walked closer to this family than I have throughout this journey. I mean, one can only do so much from 800 miles away. But I feel so fortunate to bless them by being able to give their followers an update on their sweet Little Man.
Surgery went well with no complications. Little Man was upset and distraught coming out of surgery but I think that’s understandable. The family is staying another night in the hospital, with expectations to be discharged tomorrow! Personally I think they should be there for at least two weeks, since discharge means a long drive back home and away from all of us cool Oregon folks, but I digress.
Little man has to wear what the highly educated medical staff refer to as “no-no’s” which are arm bands resembling deflated flotation devices that seem to prevent him from bending his arms at the elbow in order to keep hands and fingers out of the surgical sites. The upside is that they have totally cute dogs on them.
Our dear mama friend can’t carry Little Man in the Ergo for at least 2 weeks, and all of us baby-wearing parents know how hard that one is going to be. I received a text today, straight from the horse’s mouth, “I’m stuck fast to a recliner with a drowsy koala bear securely affixed to me with no sign of relenting. Praying he begins to eat some more…has already had applesauce and red dye #40-laden Jell-O. He’s reasonably wary.” That’s understandable. I’d be wary of Jell-O too.
As far as pain management goes, the doctors have said that he will likely lose weight, but his mama has taken that as a “personal challenge” to prevent it from happening. I’d start taking bets but we all know who’s going to win this one.
Bottom line, everyone is doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances. On behalf of the family, thank you for your empathetic prayers and encouragement. I hope that those of you who did, in fact, walk around in a daze with shirts buttoned crookedly and mismatched shoes can breathe a sigh of relief along with the family that the surgery is over, and recovery is well on the way.