Welcome to the continued story of Alexander Michael Zarzana. A five year old boy who endured brain surgery to remove two Arterio Venous Malformations from the right frontal lobe. This is the sixth of seven posts on this blog that is written in the form of a letter to my son Alex. If you are reading this blog for the first time, I recommend that you start on the first posting of the series so that you can enjoy the story from the beginning. This blog series is being written for four reasons:
1. To strengthen the faith of my young son Alexander on the day that he is able to read this blog for himself. We serve a God who does great things.
2. To encourage parents who may go through the same type of struggle that Joanne and I did.
3. To give due thanks for the nurses, doctors, and surgeons that took amazing care of our little Alex.
4. To give glory, honor and thanks to the Lord who brought our son back home to us.
Alexander the Brave One
At 9am in the morning, I headed downstairs to get your mother some coffee and a breakfast sandwich. When I returned, the nurses and physical therapists were in the ICU to wake you. "We want to try and assess Alex's baseline and see what kind of strength he has." Your mother and I were anxious to see how you were. Many questions lingered in our mind, the same kinds of questions that lingered from your first surgery. Would you have mobility on your left side? Would you wake up, once more, as the same Alex that we knew before surgery? Would there be any permanent damage?
The two nurses present had to call out a few times and gently shake your shoulder before you began to wake up. Seeing you regain consciousness was a blessing in and of itself. Throughout the middle of the night, I had paranoid fears, wondering if you would wake up at all. You were barely able to open your eyes as you woke. Mommy and daddy were right by your side as you came to. Mommy held on to your right hand and smiled down on you. My eyes intently studied each of your movements as you slowly became cognizant. I noticed that your left side did not move.
As you began to try and sit up, a nurse placed her hand beneath your back to help you up. You were lethargic and drowsy as you tried to wake. The other nurse removed the blanket from your torso and placed your legs over the side of the bed after sitting you up. Fear began to set in my mind as I watched the nurses balance your limp body. Your head drooped, arms hung at your side, and body looked near lifeless. The therapists brought in a dog named Sunny in efforts to get you to become more responsive. Here is a video of that moment:
After taking that video, your mother asked me if she could watch the recording. Anguish was layered on her face as she asked. I responded with concern, "Why do you want to watch it?" Your mother laid silent after asking the question. "Honey, I don't think it is a video worth watching again." We were both broken as we witnessed your unresponsiveness to Sunny and the nurses requests. There was a little movement from your left arm, which was a blessing to be counted, but in hindsight of the present situation; we were both wrecked within.
After taking that video, your mother asked me if she could watch the recording. Anguish was layered on her face as she asked. I responded with concern, "Why do you want to watch it?" Your mother laid silent after asking the question. "Honey, I don't think it is a video worth watching again." We were both broken as we witnessed your unresponsiveness to Sunny and the nurses requests. There was a little movement from your left arm, which was a blessing to be counted, but in hindsight of the present situation; we were both wrecked within.
The nurses and therapists spoke with your mother and I:
"We want to get him into therapy immediately." they said.
"How long do you think he will have to undergo rehabilitative services? Do you think he will be able to walk on his left side again?" I asked.
"It is too early to tell how long he will have to be in therapy. We can't promise full rehabilitation on his left side. From what we are seeing, it will likely take weeks to get him up and walking on his own. We can't promise a full recovery, but the slight movement from his left arm is a good sign, so stay optimistic."
The nurses tried their best to make your mother and I feel positive, but we were beside ourselves. Why couldn't you have just woken up like you had from the first surgery? I thought to myself. At one point, that was my confident hope. But now I just hoped that you would be able to regain your strength and be able to walk and play again.
After realizing that we were going to be in the Hospital for some time, your mother called the local Ronald McDonald house to request a room. We were blessed to get in the same day. I went to pick up your brother from Grandma Karen's. He asked how you were doing as we traveled down the freeway to the Ronald McDonald house, but I didn't know how to respond. "Just pray for your brother Christian." I said. "Okay, Dad." Christian responded back. After about five minutes of silence, your brother piped up again:
"Hey Dad, you know God can heal people right?"
"Yes Christian, I know that."
"God is going to heal Alex Dad."
There wasn't a shred of doubt in Christian's voice as he said it. I wanted to respond to him with some of my skeptical side, tell him that God doesn't always heal everyone. Christian understands this truth, but he was confident that his little brother was going to be fine, and who was I to take that from him in that moment. I glanced back at Christian and said, "I hope you are right son". After dropping our stuff off at the Ronald McDonald House, we traveled back to the Hospital where you slept. Christian wanted to try and wake you up so we allowed him to do so:
"Alex, wake up." Christian said as he shook your shoulder.
I believe that what happened next was a miracle. You woke up with excitement and greeted your brother. It was a surprise to see how responsive you were. You asked to be sat up and mommy and daddy got a wheel chair next to your bed and placed you upright in it. Here is a picture of you and Christian sitting together.
You still did not have much movement on your left side but we were ecstatic to see you wake in the manner that you did. Amazed at what seemed to be a sudden turn of events, Joanne and I discussed what to do next and we decided that I would stay at the Hotel with your brother overnight. My eyes and mind were tired from lack of sleep, but back at the hotel room, after watching a cartoon with your brother, he and I cuddled up and fell asleep peacefully. I now had a reason to feel positive, and my faith was bolstered in believing that you would be okay. After all, there were thousands of people praying for you, thousands, and we serve a God who is in the business of answering many prayers with a powerful response. I have lived a life of witnessing God's providence throughout my walk and journey with Him, so why not believe in Him now? Why not trust that God could do something big? Another day passed where you spent time in recovery. Your friends Layla and Stacy showed up again to say hello to you. We went out into the courtyard and took a picture together. Here is the pic.
Another day came and went with little movement being seen on your left side but your mother and I, along with more family and friends than we can count, continued to pray for your recovery.
The next morning a response to those prayers was clearly seen. I called your mother on the way to the Hospital from the Ronald McDonald House:
"Josh," your mother said, "The therapists came out today to reassess Alex and he was able to stand up on a walker after getting out of bed!"
"That's amazing honey!"
"I know, right! The therapists couldn't believe how well he was doing. They still want him to have therapy, but praise God that he is up and nearly balancing on his own with a walker! He even took a couple steps forward as I helped him balance!"
"Praise God." I said, "Praise Him."
After getting to the Hospital and arriving back at your room, I greeted you with joy. You smiled at me cheerfully with some pride on your face and said.
"Hi Dad."
"Hi buddy" I said back, "I am so proud of you, I heard you got out of bed and walked."
"Yes I did." You said with a grin.
You wanted to get out of bed again and show me that you were able to stand up with your walker. You looked confident so your mother and I decided to let you. Here is a picture of the proud and relieving moment.
Witnessing your recovery continued to bolster my faith. We still had a long road ahead to get you back to normal strength, but praise and adoration before God was expressed as we rejoiced over your healing. God is good, and as you read this son, I pray that you know that truth beyond a shadow of a doubt. Just how good God is, will be told in my final letter of this blog. I love you.
To be concluded 27 September 2014.
After realizing that we were going to be in the Hospital for some time, your mother called the local Ronald McDonald house to request a room. We were blessed to get in the same day. I went to pick up your brother from Grandma Karen's. He asked how you were doing as we traveled down the freeway to the Ronald McDonald house, but I didn't know how to respond. "Just pray for your brother Christian." I said. "Okay, Dad." Christian responded back. After about five minutes of silence, your brother piped up again:
"Hey Dad, you know God can heal people right?"
"Yes Christian, I know that."
"God is going to heal Alex Dad."
There wasn't a shred of doubt in Christian's voice as he said it. I wanted to respond to him with some of my skeptical side, tell him that God doesn't always heal everyone. Christian understands this truth, but he was confident that his little brother was going to be fine, and who was I to take that from him in that moment. I glanced back at Christian and said, "I hope you are right son". After dropping our stuff off at the Ronald McDonald House, we traveled back to the Hospital where you slept. Christian wanted to try and wake you up so we allowed him to do so:
"Alex, wake up." Christian said as he shook your shoulder.
I believe that what happened next was a miracle. You woke up with excitement and greeted your brother. It was a surprise to see how responsive you were. You asked to be sat up and mommy and daddy got a wheel chair next to your bed and placed you upright in it. Here is a picture of you and Christian sitting together.
Christian and Alex Reunited Again
You still did not have much movement on your left side but we were ecstatic to see you wake in the manner that you did. Amazed at what seemed to be a sudden turn of events, Joanne and I discussed what to do next and we decided that I would stay at the Hotel with your brother overnight. My eyes and mind were tired from lack of sleep, but back at the hotel room, after watching a cartoon with your brother, he and I cuddled up and fell asleep peacefully. I now had a reason to feel positive, and my faith was bolstered in believing that you would be okay. After all, there were thousands of people praying for you, thousands, and we serve a God who is in the business of answering many prayers with a powerful response. I have lived a life of witnessing God's providence throughout my walk and journey with Him, so why not believe in Him now? Why not trust that God could do something big? Another day passed where you spent time in recovery. Your friends Layla and Stacy showed up again to say hello to you. We went out into the courtyard and took a picture together. Here is the pic.
Alex with Joshua, Christian and Layla
Another day came and went with little movement being seen on your left side but your mother and I, along with more family and friends than we can count, continued to pray for your recovery.
The next morning a response to those prayers was clearly seen. I called your mother on the way to the Hospital from the Ronald McDonald House:
"Josh," your mother said, "The therapists came out today to reassess Alex and he was able to stand up on a walker after getting out of bed!"
"That's amazing honey!"
"I know, right! The therapists couldn't believe how well he was doing. They still want him to have therapy, but praise God that he is up and nearly balancing on his own with a walker! He even took a couple steps forward as I helped him balance!"
"Praise God." I said, "Praise Him."
After getting to the Hospital and arriving back at your room, I greeted you with joy. You smiled at me cheerfully with some pride on your face and said.
"Hi Dad."
"Hi buddy" I said back, "I am so proud of you, I heard you got out of bed and walked."
"Yes I did." You said with a grin.
You wanted to get out of bed again and show me that you were able to stand up with your walker. You looked confident so your mother and I decided to let you. Here is a picture of the proud and relieving moment.
Alex Standing with his Walker
Witnessing your recovery continued to bolster my faith. We still had a long road ahead to get you back to normal strength, but praise and adoration before God was expressed as we rejoiced over your healing. God is good, and as you read this son, I pray that you know that truth beyond a shadow of a doubt. Just how good God is, will be told in my final letter of this blog. I love you.
To be concluded 27 September 2014.
Interested in supporting the author of this blog? You can do so by purchasing his book, "The Son Who Chases the Father" at chasethefather.com
Joshua Zarzana can also be found on Facebook or Twitter
Thank you for reading.
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