Karl, Karl, what do you hear? Dear all, I haven't written for a few days, not because I haven't wanted to, and certainly not because there hasn't been news, but because I have said to myself, "When [fill in the blank] becomes clear, then I'll be able to write the next update!" But only today have matters become a bit more settled, and so I set myself down to bring you up to speed. It had looked as if today we would have been off to rehab, here in Germany. At least for now, we will start intensive rehab here, but for how long is yet to be determined, with the help of the clinic's physicians. Even as late as yesterday, we had the thumbs up, and I waved to Karl at 4:15 p.m., telling him I was going home to pack for the mountains. But before I left, at 2:30, the little boy went in for another C-T scan, to see if the drainage tube was doing its thing. In short, it was, but only on one side, namely the left. The right brain had about 2 centimeters of fluid on it, and that, quite simply, can't be. The water in and of itself isn't serious, but the pressure it puts on his little brain can be. So even before I left the hospital yesterday, I had a hunch that we wouldn't be seeing the mountains today. After consultation with the chief neurosurgeon early this a.m., it was decided that Karl would be off again to the operating table to insert another tube for the right side of the brain, essentially elongating the existing tube into a "y" shape. So at 12:15, we were off to the OR again, and two hours later, Karl was back in his room, extubated, and doing great. It looks now like we are on our way to rehab on Monday or Tuesday. Meanwhile, Karl has been receiving terrific rehab here from his physical therapist Karin (God bless Karin), and through an acquaintance he will be getting some intermittent speech therapy to do us until we arrive at Vogtareuth. Again, the intensive care unit people are all ambassadors of kindness, patience, and all things good. God bless the Universitaets Klinikum Intensiv Station 90A! As to Karl's progress, he has been a bit quiet these last few days, at least vocally. However, today I had lots of perks. We put Karl on my lap, and after a while, I began to ask Karl a few yes and no questions. I asked him to raise his hand for yeses. "Karl, do you hear me sweet boy?" Hand up. "Sweet boy, would you like me to tell you a story?" Hand up. "Karl, would you like me to tell you a story about Opa [which is German for grandfather]?" Not a twitch. Dad figures that is a sure sign of a severer injury than we had thought. "Karl, how about a story about Karl, about you?" Hand up. "Would you like a story about the day you were born?" Hand up. And after I told him all about his birth, I said, "Alright sweet boy, would you like a story about the day Else was born?" Utter stillness. So. "How about we flip through Richard Scarry's The Best Word Book Ever?" Hand up. And a bit later, the nurse came in to say that it was time for the operation. "Karl," I said. "You are beautiful. You are safe. And I love you. Do you know that?" Hand up. "Karl, are you happy?" Hand up. "Karl, you are in the hospital, because you have a bump on your head. But every day, you are getting better. Do you know that you are getting better?" Hand up. "Karl, sweet boy, you are about ready to go for a little ride, and take a bit of a nap. And you know what I would like to do? I would like to kiss your hand, so that if you are ever sad, or scared, and wish I were there when I am not, you can hold your tiny hand so tightly, and feel all of my kisses inside. Could you please open your hand for me?" Hand began to open. So I kissed, and kissed, and kissed. "And now, Karl, the fact of the matter is, when I am not around you, I miss you terribly. What would make me very happy is to have you kiss my hand, so that when I miss you, I can hold my hand to my cheek or to my mouth, and get kisses from you even far away. Would you please give me a few kisses on my hand so that I can take them with me?" And I held my hand to his mouth, and my palm became wet with his lips kissing me back. God is good. Earlier, Mom (who is now on night shift, since Else is just wrapping up her sickness and Dad is just coming off the peak of his--thanks for those prayers) and I were reading a terrific book entitled Adam, Adam, What Do You See? It is based upon Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? It highlights some of the chief Bible characters, and a main point of the story, along with an according Bible verse. So I get to "Peter, Peter, what do you see?" And the page is of Peter fishing along with the others, their nets heavy with fish. "I see miracles, all around me." And our eyes welled up with tears, as that is indeed what we are seeing, every day. And just a few pages later, we read, "Little child, Little child, what do you see?" And the little boy says, "I see Jesus, watching over me....