I was on the phone with my brother last night, talking about a family celebration that's happening in Vermont this summer. He was trying to coordinate dates both with us getting to spend time together and with his dialysis schedule. I said that by then he shouldn't have to worry about dialysis anymore.
He was far more skeptical.
Once we get past this insurance roadblock, there are possibly insurmountable obstacles to overcome. Like whether there's even room in his abdomen for this new organ. And should there be, whether it will work once it's hooked up.
No one knows.
There are no guarantees.
In response to my positive, placating missives he said, "I'll believe it when I pee."
First of all, what a brilliant twist of words. From someone who excels at puns that make me groan, this was exceptionally witty.
His realism tempers my optimism. My faith balances keeping his hopes in check.
I pray, ask, beg, hope, wish, want with all my heart for this to work out for him. And for me too. But, as we get closer to surgery, this story is far less mine than his.