Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Before Margaret died it was my job to make breakfast and drop the kids off at school in the morning, but now I must get used to immediately returning home and spending time in the house with just Calum. It's a new experience and very strange. As soon as he falls asleep I'm left with my thoughts and memories.
I sink when I think about how much I miss Margaret, but faith lifts me out of it. Loneliness comes but faith always pushes it to one side. This faith manifests itself in a solid belief in Margaret's being now in glory with the Lord and indescribably happy. It is also usually followed by an equally solid belief that my and every one else's appointed time approaches and draws nearer every moment. We are all in the queue.
When I looked down on Margaret's dead body shortly after she died, the thought which came into my mind with great force was: "This is not Margaret." It was an empty shell - dust. Margaret is no longer here, she is absent (absent from the body, present with the Lord - 2 Corinthians 5: 8). Yes that dust is united to Christ and on the morning of the resurrection will be reunited with her soul and will rise again, but until that day, she is utterly gone.
This faith is not something which I generate. It is something which simply exists within me. The Bible tells me that it is God's Holy Spirit indwelling in me and so enabling me to believe - to exercise faith.
The truth of this is born out by personal experience (It canna be telt, it must be felt).
I don't know how I would cope with my current situation if I didn't have faith.
There are two kinds of faith: true faith and false faith. False faith is what we generate ourselves, by our own efforts - 'drummed up faith', but true faith is generated by the power of God - alone.
So it is very comforting to experience faith's workings independent of my own ability.
The faith to which I refer is a true and powerful belief in the finished work of the only begotten Son of God - the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
An atheist might say, "But I don't believe that."
I would respond by saying: "That's up to you, and it might sound good to some, but what good will it do when you're staring into the jaws of death?"
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Friday, 18 February 2011
Monday, 14 February 2011
During the last couple of visits Calum has been spending his time sleeping. This is a result of the amount of milk he is consuming. It is a good sign as it means his body is digesting what he has taken.
I have been told that I can take him home now. I intend to do that after the funeral.
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Friday, 11 February 2011
Calum is now bottle-feeding properly. This is a great step forward. The feeding tube is still in his nose but that is merely precautionary in case there are problems with his feeding.
There is no sound on this clip, that is because the nurse on duty told me that if I take video I am only permitted to do it with the sound off.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Today was another day of noticeable improvement. Calum is now taking milk through the tube in his nose which feeds directly into his stomach. Since starting the milk he has quickly progressed to a much larger amount.
Initially when he opened his eyes he tended to roll them, but that is now greatly decreased. Also the spasmodic movements which he had seem to have decreased so much that by the time we left today I could only describe them as being non-existent. I have also been told by those caring for him that he was beginning to suck the doctor's finger.
He is still dopey due to the drugs he was on taking some time to clear out of his system.
Here is today's clip.
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
This picture was taken on Monday 7 February at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary where Calum is being treated. When he was born his mother Margaret Mackenzie had passed into unconsciousness and had to be rushed to theater where Calum was delivered by emergency caesarean section. Surgeons at St John's Hospital Livingston fought for hours to save Margaret but she died at 6.20am.
When Calum was born he wasn't breathing and his heart had stopped. He responded well to resuscitation but had suffered severe oxygen starvation. The concern is whether brain damage has been sustained. It is a big worry.
It was touch and go for a couple of days after his birth as to whether he would survive.
The white jacket around his abdomen has cool water pumped through it which keeps him cool. This is a new treatment for babies which have suffered oxygen starvation. It helps to minimize brain damage in some.
The girl on the right is Sarah, one of Calum's sisters and the other one is Jessica his cousin.