Darkness 1, Light ? Dear all, We've had to shed tears here, lately, for two nights ago we learned the results of the latest MRI, results which are, at the very least, discouraging. In addition to the possibility that Karl may have vision problems, troubles moving his left side, and difficulties with short-term memory, all which the first MRI displayed, Karl may have epileptic seizures, and worst of all, may simply not be able to register more than basic emotions. We are heartbroken. Too, although he is awake, his responses up to now have been minimalgrimacing when something happens that he doesn't like, following people with his eyes, and so forth. But smiling, or consistent reactions to certain stimuli have just not yet been seen. Additionally, the date on which his breathing tube will be pulled out continues to be pushed back. He still has so much mucous in his lungs, and they are not convinced that he has the strength to cough it out on his own. The poor little boy just had to have a new form of a bladder catheter inserted, because the former one had become infected. He went from a temperature on Monday of about 98 to 104, all in about an hour and a half, probably due to the bladder infection. Two days ago he had to have his head punctured to allow water-build-up to flow out, and the procedure needed to repeated yesterday. They are planning to insert a shunt sometime to allow the water to drain into his stomach. Today he will receive a new catheter to feed him directly in his stomach, to replace the feeding tube in his nose. And on and on. He must be exhausted. There is a 'however', but the Good Friday mood is prevailing right now, and needs to be, quite frankly. The temptation is to run to Easter, but Good Friday has its merits. With the exception of any advance he makes (for example, suddenly, two days ago, he began to move both eyes simultaneously from side to side), anything might change. That is to say that the good things will remain, and the bad things will either stay just so or improve. I have heard story after story of how brains have been riddled with holes, and the patients have recovered fully, and how children are so resilient, etc., etc.. All true. And, after speaking with the doctor again yesterday, although a complete recovery is almost entirely ruled out, there is no reason to give up hope for a good recovery. But there are other stories of how brains that look perfectly good are owned by people with severe dysfunctions, and how when an MRI says that things look bad, well, things are bad. There is nothing to do but wait. And that is what is so horribly tough. I had a conversation with God the other day, and begged for a sign of what was to come, simply because the waiting, and the changing of circumstances in matters of minutes, is sometimes unbearable. And I was reminded of the fact that there has already been a sign, namely the cross, and that has to suffice, right now. My brother-in-law passed on word that Buddhists are meditating for us, New Agers are sending us positive energy, Christians, Muslims, and Jews are praying for us, agnostics are being tempted to pray, and atheists are shooting us lots of good wishes. I am so grateful for the array of help that is being sent. The ecumenical/inter-religious nature of our support helps me. I continue to beg for prayers, and ask that you hold Karl deep in prayer even more so than you have yet. A good friend of mine is serving as a Lutheran pastor, and he said that he is training his congregation to be good Jews in their prayer life. Of course Christians pray, and pray well. But we tend to pray politely. "Your will be done," we say. In and of itself, there is nothing wrong with such a prayer life. But Jews have a habit of telling God what God's will is. And it ought to be God's will that my little Karl is healed, and healed completely. I need my little boy back, and need to storm heaven with that news. If you are Jewish, go for it. Do your thing. If you aren't, at least for the duration of your prayers, convert. God needs to know what we expect. And I am uncompromising in my demand. Make Karl well again. Today, by the way, is Karl's birthday. He is as alert as he has ever been since the accident. We have balloons, presents, and cake (but no candles, for fear of the oxygen!). And that he is even having another birthday after the severity of the accident is a miracle. No reason not to expect another. We will keep you posted, as always. In peace, Anna