Chapter 3, Part 5 - Jigsaw Puzzle

People started to stir. The sleepy ones sat up. Several got up and looked out the door.

“It’s almost one. They should be opening the doors pretty soon for visiting hours.” Someone explained. “But they don’t always open on time. It just depends on what’s happening in there.”

So, we waited – and answered the phone.

Many people wanted to know what was happening. Of course, we could not tell them much at this time, only to check back later and to pray. Throughout the ordeal, phone calls helped us to pass the copious time of waiting. They assured us that lots of people were holding us up in prayer – and we counted on their prayers, both for Arif and for our own endurance. It was also a good way to process the vast amount of information we had heaped upon us as the days and weeks went by. Joe would have to put the information into concise words, and I would give him feedback if I thought I heard something different. Then we could check with someone to clarify.

Finally, the doors to the ICU opened and people poured into the unit. At the same time, a woman came into the waiting room, looking for us.



It was time to figure out how the system worked. Over the next few weeks, we fell into somewhat of a routine of visiting hours, doctor consultations, crises, and most of all waiting.

At ten o’clock Thursday night (was that really just one day?) Arif was wheeled into surgery. A master orthopedic surgeon was assigned to piece together what remained of Arif’s left leg. After surgery, he arrived in the waiting room, bearing snapshots. It was a masterful piece of work. Dr. .showed us the X rays both before and after.