Peace and love to you all.

No real updates today, honestly. We have a Care Conference set up for tomorrow afternoon. In that meeting, we'll talk with all the doctors and providers that have taken care of my dad this past week, get a sense of where they are at, and maybe start the process of decision-making. Until then, though, we remain in Limbo. 

To us, it feels kind of like going through the process of flying. No, not the packing bags and making sure they weigh exactly the right amount. No, not going through security where every nook and cranny is inspected. No, not sitting around, eating aggressively-mediocre airport breakfasts. It's more like being on the plane and waiting to take off.

If you've flown, you've been through the experience. Crammed like mask-wearing sardines into a steel tube that, essentially, goes into the sky like magic. (I'm a Communication doctor, not a physics doctor...sue me). The air conditioning coming and goes in spurts and fits to the point that you're either baking like a Thanksgiving turkey or frozen like...well, like a Thanksgiving turkey before it's been cooked. Some child in the back of the plane howling at precisely the same pitch as an air raid siren. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

That, in essence, is where we are now. We're waiting on that plane. We have no control and all we can do is trust in the pilots and what they are doing. And no matter what they decide, we know they will bring us to the right place.

Thank you for being on this journey with us. You're sharing your headphones, giving us a snack, and listening to us talk instead of just putting on your sunglasses and sleeping through the announcements. We are so grateful to you and all you have done for us. You are loved beyond measure. 

I'll leave you today with another prayer. 

​God, you are the love of my soul. You are kind, you are the only true King. You are the only true God, and I put myself in your hands. You have turned your eyes to me. You believed me and were happy with me. God, you long for unity with me and improve the work you have begun in me. You are a loving Father; you know me well. You know how you created me. You know what steps are planned for my future. Because you know everything, and I trust you so I can rest in your shadow. God, since you love me, I can trust that your intentions are beneficial to me. Also, when I don’t see, understand, or worry, I can believe your truth. Your plans are the best for me, and you will be faithful. Amen.

Peace and love to you all.

The news is not great, my friends. We aren't seeing movement in the right directions or on the MRIs. We aren't sure what much of it means, so we have decided to engage a Care Conference with the members of the Sanford medical staff that have worked with and been a part of the care team throughout the last week. Within that conference, we will be discussing the full scope of the situation and making preliminary decisions based on the information provided by the experts at Sanford along with previously stated (on multiple occasions) and well-known desires of Dad/Randy in the past. We don't know what that means yet, but we ask for your patience, your prayers, and your discretion as we navigate these difficult waters. 

This feels, oddly enough, like the story of Jonah and the Whale from the Bible. Swallowed by a whale, alone, in darkness...Jonah was afraid. He had no idea of which way to turn and no idea of how to escape. However, he put his faith in God to get him safely back to shore. Right now, our family is in the belly of one big, mean, jerky whale and we are struggling to find light. However, your prayers and your love have been a candle for us in the darkness. Maybe not a glimmer of hope but a glimmer of something greater. Something bigger than all of us. Your arms around us across the world have the outline of God around them and are holding us tight. For that, we cannot begin to express how thankful we are.

I will update as best I can and when I can, but I do ask that you be patient as we figure things out. We know your pain. We know your anxiety. We know your hurting. We are there with you as you are there with us. As we are not alone, you are not alone, and we are all held by God's love. 

I'll leave you with a verse and our thanks. 

PHILIPPIANS 4:6 (NIV)
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” 

Peace and love to you all.

There is little for us to report in terms of changes from this morning. They are still trying to regulate his temperature while also bringing him back down from sedation, so another drug has been introduced to hopefully rectify that. At this point, concerns about his kidneys, heart, or chest are basically gone, which is good! The most pressing concern now, though, is about his brain. How much has been affected, what areas have been affected, and being able to maintain the temperature effectively are all of importance.

So, in lieu of a story this time, I'd simply ask for a targeted prayer. Heal my father's brain, calm our worries, and bring him back to us. 

Thank you as always for your kind words, your thoughts, and your prayers. We feel your arms around us even from miles away. 

I'll leave you with a longer prayer this time.

Dear Lord of Mercy and Father of Comfort,
You are the one I turn to for help in moments of weakness and times of need. I ask you to be with Randy in this illness. Psalm 107:20 says that you send out your Word and heal. So then, please send your healing Word to Randy. In the name of Jesus, drive out all infirmity and sickness from his body.
Dear Lord, I ask you to turn this weakness into strength, this suffering into compassion, sorrow into joy, and pain into comfort for others. May we trust in your goodness and hope in your faithfulness, even in the middle of this suffering. Let us be filled with patience and joy in your presence as he waits for your healing touch.
Please restore Randy to full health, dear Father. Remove all fear and doubt from our hearts by the power of your Holy Spirit, and may you, Lord, be glorified through his life and through ours.
As you heal and renew Randy, Lord, may we bless and praise you.
All of this, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ.
Amen.

Peace and love to you all.

If you have spent even five minutes around my dad, you will know at least one indelible fact about him: he loves words. He loves finding new words and definitions and pulling them out as trivia. More than a few times, he came home from a Cabinet meeting and told us about his grand victory in stumping the others there with new words or facts. His love of language and words is something that he not so much passed down to me through actions but poured into me through simply giving me life. As you may have guessed from reading the last few blog entries here, I am also a fan of words and the meanings they have. 

This evening's update is about words. Specifically, the way that words change meaning and how they are beyond important when it comes to accuracy. This afternoon, when Mom and I visited Dad (after Adam and I did our clothes-switcharoo), we were able to speak with the neurologist. He was kind but straight-forward, which is something we appreciate, and was precise with his words. He mentioned how there is some concern about the cortex of the brain and why they are running more CT scans and keeping him under sedation to moderate his temperature. All things that are scary, no matter the words that are used. 

However, I'm finding myself drawn to focusing on the words he did not use. He did not say severe. He did not say significant. He did not say total. He did not say extreme or any other variation of that sort of word. He did say some but some is most assuredly NOT all. It is also not none but there are still small victories. For me, that he did not explain what has been noticed in such dire terms gives me hope. 

The other words that matter right now, even more than those, are the words that all of you have been sending and speaking and thinking and praying about my father and about us. There was a moment today when my mom and brother felt a kind of peace and knew that it was through your prayers and thoughts that it came upon them. We have felt many different things throughout the last few days: fear, anger, sadness, grief, worry. The one thing we have absolutely not felt, though, is alone. You are with us and continue to be with us through this and we are eternally grateful and thankful for your presence in our lives. 

I'll leave you for this evening with these words to pray for peace and comfort.

O Lord, we are at the limits of our power to help. For what we have left undone, forgive us. For what you have helped us to do, we thank you. For what must be done by others, lend your strength. Now shelter us in your peace which passes our understanding.
Amen.

Peace and love to you all.

I wish I were able to say that Mom and Adam went this morning, and he was alert and talking and cantankerous and ready to come home. Unfortunately, I can't. The neurology as it stands right now does not look promising and the bloodwork labs show a decrease in most areas. What this means, in the most delicate terms, is that Mom, Adam, and I have had to at least begin the worst conversation a family can have. Let me be clear that he is still with us for right now! And miracles are, of course, possible as everything is possible through God. However, the necessary time for a miracle to happen is literally any minute now. Until that comes, we need to prepare. 

We are hurting, to say the least. The unthinkable has shifted from unthinkable to unlikely to possible to...well, as I said, we have had conversations. Sleep has been difficult. Eating has been sparse. All three of us are, frankly, sort of like zombies.  We are as strong as we can be and the support and love from all of you has helped tremendously. We ask that you continue your prayers and your kindness as we hope for that miracle to occur. 

This has been a difficult entry to write. There are words that I simply refuse to say or write yet because I am holding on with every ounce of my strength to hope for God's intervention to bring my father back to us. Yet, I have to acknowledge that that specific result may not be in God's plan for us. Until then, though, I will continue to hope.

Thank you all so much for your prayers and thoughts over this last week. It's only Saturday, but it feels like a lifetime already. Yesterday, I asked you to, if possible, give a little boost to your prayers. If there is a way to super-turbo-charge your prayers now, I am asking for that. Please keep us all in your thoughts as we hope and wait for whatever the outcome may be.

I leave you with a Bible verse. This comes from Proverbs 3:5-6 and reads:

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

We will trust and follow Him. All we can do is hope that the path He has ahead of us leads to my father coming back to us. Please feel free to comment or leave whatever you like. Knowing that you are there with us helps more than you can know.

Peace and love to you all.

I'm afraid I don't have much energy for a story this time, so I'll get right to the update.

Things today have been...not great. At the time I wrote the entry this morning, things appeared positive, and he was getting eye responses and the like. However, they ran a CT scan and found some concerning things in regard to brain activity. They are or have run an MRI late this afternoon or evening, but we do not currently know the results of that yet. The nephrologist did come in and say that he was basically done with everything involving the kidneys and creatinine levels and that those seemed to be functioning normally or close to it, which is good. 

So, what does that all mean? We have had to adjust our expectations some, for one. We did have the hope that he would be able to be extubated and talk with us some time in the next couple days. Now, we simply want him to be able to come home. 

I won't lie and say that this has not been difficult. Today has been one of the hardest yet and none of us are doing particularly well. It's a time of great struggle and, speaking only for myself, faith has been hard to maintain. We are sad and scared and angry, all in varying degrees and at different times. But we are also surrounded by love and care and prayers the world over. We have comments from those we've never spoken to and from those from the past. We have prayers from Australia to downtown Fargo and everywhere in between. For these, we are beyond grateful and thankful. 

I don't like giving you all troubling news and this has been a tough entry to write. But you all are important to my dad and to my family and you deserve whatever information we are able to provide, positive or negative. Please continue to hold us in your thoughts and prayers and if you do anything to give those a little boost at times, this would be a wonderful time to do so.

I'll leave you with this prayer tonight and the hopes that tonight and tomorrow may bring miraculous healing to my father - someone loved and cherished by more than he ever could know.

Dear God, we place our worries in your hands. We place our sick under your care and humbly ask that you restore your servant Randy to health again. Above all, grant us the grace to acknowledge your will and know that whatever you do, you do for the love of us. Amen.

Peace and love to you all.

I'll get to the update in a minute, but I did want to mention one thing. We've gotten several requests for our address so people can send well-wishes directly. In the interest of maintaining at least a small barrier to entry, I am linking to the Dakotas Conference page where you can search for and find information about clergy. Just put in a certain name and voila!

Find A Person | Dakotas Conference (dakotasumc.org)

We are certainly not asking for or expecting anything from any of you! That you have been and continue to pray for my dad and for us and to lift us up with love and support is more than enough. However, if you do feel the call to send anything, we ask that it be - at minimum - non-perishable. While I am sure there would be some great significance behind sending our family a flock of, say, Canadian geese, I don't think that any of us have the physical, mental, or emotional energy to fight off even a half-dozen fury machines with a golf club or whatever may be around. So, in short, cards are welcome, wildlife is not. 

As for the update, it's somewhat of a no news is good news situation. They have reduced his sedation significantly - if not completely - and he has shown no signs of being distressed by that, although I'd imagine that he's slightly sad at no longer chasing whatever dragons may have been present. His vitals and labs are all coming back strong, and it appears more and more that he is exiting the woods, although not arriving to the parking lot quite yet, to mangle an analogy beyond recognition. Adam and Mom are there with him right now and we've settled into a sort of routine where he goes in the morning, and I go in the afternoon. The neurologist just came in and talked to them and is ordering a CT scan. When testing Dad, he was able to get a sort of blink reflex in both of his eyes, which is good news! Yesterday, he couldn't get a reflex in one of them, but now both seem to be reactive. Slowly but surely.

I'll finish here with a story and a prayer, if you'd permit me. The story comes from when I was in high school, and we took a family trip to Jamaica. It was a wonderful trip and a lot of fun, but my dad made a crucial error when we went to one of the resort restaurants one night. See, as you may expect, seafood is a big part of the cuisine there and while I had eaten a little, my dad was smart and ordered the surf and turf. This meant that he got steak (which my dad has and does say is second only to corn in terms of God's greatest food gifts to humanity) and some scallops. I had never had scallops before, so he agreed to let me try one of his. Now, I know the reasoning he was working with. He was assuming that I wouldn't like it so he would be free to eat the rest of his meal in peace. This was not the result. Instead, I absolutely loved it and I can still distinctly remember the look of defeat on his face as he passed half of his scallops over to my plate. 

As we enter this time of Lent, though, that story sticks with me in relation to Jesus. I'd say it's almost certain that Jesus would have preferred to stay here on Earth, alive and loving and preaching. He would have preferred to keep all the scallops to himself. However, he also knew that God's children needed something else and, when they required the sacrifice of his comfort and his life, he gave them those things, even if it was not entirely willingly. He gave of his comfort so that we, the children of God, would be able to experience some of our own.

So how does that relate? In this time of stress and anxiety and worry and every other emotion you can imagine, we can take comfort in remembering that God gave us His son to bring us peace. He gave up something He loved so that we would be able to grow and flourish. We can and should take comfort from that and from one another and from the assurance that God is working in our lives to heal my father and bring him back to a world-wide community that loves and cherishes him. 

I'll leave you with this prayer for peace and a promise of further updates when they arrive. We are so beyond thankful for all the love we have been shown and simply ask for prayers to continue. 

A CELTIC PRAYER OF PEACE

Calm me, Lord, as you calmed the storm; still me, Lord, keep me from harm.
Let all the tumult within me cease, enfold me, Lord, in your peace.
Calm me, Lord, as you calmed the storm; still me, Lord, keep me from harm.
Let all the tumult within me cease, Lord, enfold me in your peace.
— Unknown

Thanks be to God and we love you all.

Peace and love to all of you.

No real updates as of yet today. Adam and Mom went over and spent the morning there. They're still fiddling with the sedation levels and trying to bring him off them at a speed that even a snail riding a turtle would call a 'slowpoke'. Mom and I will be headed over there this afternoon to spend time with him and hopefully get more answers. Our first prayer now is that we can get him safely off sedation and the vent and he can be awake and talk to us and undoubtedly complain about the quality of the food and that would be wonderful.

However, I don't want you all just coming back over and over to 'no news, sorry' here. So, in the interest of further connection to this loving, worldwide community, I've decided (with Mom's permission) to sometimes post stories from our life with my dad that are funny or meaningful or just something that lets you know him more deeply. These aren't 'let's remember my dad' memories! These are 'my dad's first three lives have been wonderful, and he's not nearly done with his fourth life yet' memories. 

One of my favorites is from way back when we were living in Rapid City for the first time. In the basement, we had our couch, our TV, our ancient computer tucked away on a desk in the corner, and a dresser with a record player on it. Every so often, we would be downstairs, and he'd pull out a record from his younger days, put it on, and would join his boys and wife in being transported back. We would listen to Styx (Lorelei was a favorite, although we didn't have context for the more...adult lyrics in fifth grade) and Head East and Heart and all sorts of bands from an era we hadn't experienced. To this day, many of those songs remain in my Spotify playlist where I can listen and sing along with them as my dad does the same up in his office.

My dad has always had an impact on the music I listen to, honestly. When I was just a baby, so the story goes, I would get fussy in the middle of the night, and my dad - even though he had work the next day - would stay up late and watch VH1 and hold me in the crook of his arm. Even now, music from the '80s is some of my absolute favorite, partially because it's simply good music but partially, I think, because it makes me feel closer to my dad. 

We'll be headed back to the hospital in a little while here, but we all want to thank you for your prayers, your thoughts, and how you all have held our family in your arms like my dad held me during those late nights: with love and care.

I'll leave you with a prayer for healing today. 

O God of heavenly powers,
by the might of your command, you drive away
from our bodies all sickness and all infirmity:
Be present in your goodness with your servant Randy,
that his weakness may be banished and
his strength restored, and that,
his health being renewed,
he may bless your holy Name;
through Jesus Christ our Lord
Amen. 
(The Book of Common Prayer)

Peace and love to all of you.

Cheri, Adam, and I are grateful beyond words for the messages of love and support we've gotten today - both via text and in the comments section here. You always hear that it takes a village, but you never really know how large the village is and how many people are part of your lives until times like these. It has been a difficult couple of days and the next while will be hard as well, but it is of great comfort to know that we are not alone in this.

I'm going to do my best to provide updates on here as often as needed, but I can't be specific on how often that will be because sometimes there's simply nothing to report! We do have a little bit tonight, but it's nothing overwhelming in nature.

Honestly, there have been no major changes today. He's still on the vent and sedated, but they are making slow and steady progress with lowering the sedation level to work toward vent removal at a time to be determined at the moment. Hopefully sooner than later, but time will obviously tell.

Nephrology is so far happy with the dialysis results and the evening out of his potassium, so hopefully we can avoid a third round while he's in the hospital, although we're not ruling out the need in the future. 

They are also working to regulate his temperature while lowering the sedation dosage and monitoring for any infection, but it's a slow process. They're not just going to dunk him in an ice bath and call it good, after all.

So, all in all, we're seeing things improve. It's not drastic but I'll take easing him back to us any day. 

Please feel free to share this website or blog entries with anyone and everyone you like! Even with progress, we can always use prayers, love, support, and your good thoughts. I'll respond in the comments to any questions you may have (that we feel comfortable answering) but know that everything is read and held close to our hearts.

I'll leave you with a prayer that stuck with me today.

God, teach us what it means to have faith in silence. When we face trials that are beyond our understanding, help us to find peace. Help me be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer. You set all things in accordance to your time. Remind us to wait patiently, and find peace in your plan.
- Dick Woodward

We love you all. 

Peace and love to all of you.

This entry will undoubtedly sound a bit different. Unfortunately, that is because it is being written by Randy's son, Aaron. I won't draw this out: Randy is very sick and currently in the intensive care unit at the local hospital. I'll explain more in a little bit, but I do need to provide a little context first.

First of all, let me just say that we are beyond overwhelmed at the amount of support, love, and prayer that we have received already. We could probably feed an entire battalion based on the number of meals that have been offered to us. That so many people are surrounding us and my dad with love is a joy in a time where precious little of that is to be found. 

However, I used the word 'overwhelmed' intentionally. As grateful as we are that so many people care, it has become unfeasible to answer every text and every phone call, to say nothing of giving each and every concerned person the time and information desired. Please understand that we aren't complaining about it! We are blessed by you all, but I'm sure you can appreciate that our focus is and needs to be on each other and my father first and foremost.

We don't want to leave anyone out of the loop, though, and we know how scary and helpless it feels simply not knowing what is going on. Believe me, we have as much information as we are able right now, and we still feel that same fear and helplessness. In an effort to alleviate your fears as well as simply take some of the pressure off of us in needing to respond to your loving communications, Cheri/Mom, Adam, and I have decided that it's best for us and for you to have one central location where we can provide information. I'll share some details - not all, some will remain private - and I'm sure my dad will be unhappy with me when he is awake and talking, but we will share what we feel is appropriate.

All of that is to say that this entry will be a bit longer as I fill in what I'm able to in order to hopefully assuage some concerns. I'll provide a little timeline and some basic information, with more coming in later entries.

On February 28th, my brother and I went out to buy food for the week while Dad stayed at home and put up his entry about the crab au gratin experiment. When we got home, he was sitting in the living room and informed us that he had been having a panic attack for about a half-hour, complete with difficulty breathing. We talked to him for about fifteen minutes until Adam and I decided that we needed to take him to Urgent Care. I drove him over there and got him in immediately. While there, they made the decision to take him to the ER, at which point I left to go pick up Mom, who had come home from work.

When we got to the ER, a doctor sat us down and informed us that they had put him on a ventilator and sedated him because of the difficulty breathing. They were also extremely concerned about his potassium levels and were going to run a procedure to get that down. Since that point, he's been in the ICU, still under sedation, as they try to figure out exactly what happened and how it all worked together. 

So, at the end of it all, what exactly happened? Truth be told, we don't really know. At present, we believe that pneumonia contributed in some way, that he had a cardiac event at some point - whether a flash pulmonary edema or heart attack, we don't know, that the cycling of toxins in his kidneys isn't and hasn't been ideal, and that there was some kind of malfunction in blood flow in his body. In short, a lot of really mean dominos fell at once. 

Here's the good news: he's still alive. Not only alive, but getting better, slowly but surely. If you know my dad personally, you will understand when I say that a man like him is too stubborn to let even a complicated thing like health stop him from moving forward. As well, while he's still under sedation and vented, let me be clear here in saying that whatever happened is NOT COVID-related. They tested him and he was negative, so small blessings.

What we do know is that we have not gotten any late-night phone calls, that he has exceptional care with incredible doctors, nurses, and specialists working literally around the clock to get him better, and that he and all of us are surrounded by love and support and, most importantly, God's hands on all of us. 

For those of you that are regulars here, please continue to follow along and leave prayers and the like. I'll update when I can. For those of you that are loved ones seeking information, please feel free to leave a comment here rather than a text or a phone call to my mom and I'll check in with you on here multiple times a day. It's not that we don't want to hear from you - it's that we don't want anyone to be lost in the chaos of everything going on. We love each and every one of you and would hate to make you feel as if you are out of the loop simply because we didn't have the time or energy to text or call you back. We hope you understand.

I'll leave you, as my father has done and will do in the future, with a Bible verse. This is from Luke 14:27 and it reads:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

Thank you and we love you all.

Aaron, Adam, and Cheri on behalf of Randy