A Hard 48

It's been a hard 48 hours. From high hopes and peals of laughter on Tuesday night, Aiyana developed a spiking high fever to 105 and specialists raced to identify the cause. Fluids and antibiotics and ice packs and cool towels brought the fever to normal by Wednesday night, but there was a deep and overlying concern about the cause with her in such a fragile, post chemo state.

She began retaining water Wednesday night and then had difficulties breathing and was moved to ICU. Steadily her situation worsened, it was discovered a fast moving lung infection had taken root and the first of three treatments was immediate implemented but Aiyana had not responded to treatment. They were partway through the second treatment when we arrived at the hospital and that, too, seemed ineffective. This infection, we were told, only can be healed by the white antibodies fighting it off and Aiyana's body healing itself.

The minister led us in prayer and we began to absorb the words that truly, she was in God's hands. I guess this is the moment of truth when our will falls away and we are left with what we truly believe. It is here where we reach for God's hand and have him lead us the rest of the way. We were able to see Aiyana briefly from a distance, and during one such visit with her aunt and her mom and dad standing by, Aiyana stopped breathing. Code Blue, PICU.

Doctors and nurses tore past us as we pasted ourselves along the walls of the hallway to get out of the way. Long long minutes later, she was breathing and everyone was crying with relief. By that time, Randy and I were right there watching her vitals on that reassurring little machine with red numbers, that beeps irritatingly all night long. We trembled and listened to the sobs from a deep place in her father's heart.

And so, Aiyana is now hooked up to a bypass machine that essentially filters and oxygenates the blood and returns it to her body bypassing the lungs. Resting the lungs will let the building army of white antibodies wage war on the infection and regain control. Day by day her growing pool of antibodies will fight and we will keep vigil, and nudge her along with our hope and love and prayers.

When things seemed most dark, it was Aiyana's dad who reminded us that when she was born with cerebral palsy and epilepsy, the doctors said she wouldn't walk -- but she dances and runs and rides her bike. The doctors warned she would be impaired -- but she laughs and sings and does well in school. And so, her dad says: she has always defied the odds before, and why not now? Give her the chance to do her thing and she will beat the odds.