The Worst of a Good Situation

When your grandfather goes into emergency for a CAT scan, that's usually taken as a terrible tragedy and a horrible problem.
In our case, it's been different. Grandpa's been quite ill for the last couple of weeks now, and it's getting worse before it's getting better--from being sick to being so dizzy that he can hardly stand. So I'm not happy that he's in the hospital, exactly, I'm just happy that there's someone trying to figure out a way to make things better.

So, when my uncle told us that they were keeping Grandpa overnight, I had high hopes--hopes that something might have been seen, that something could be done. The CAT scan didn't show anything, though... and the blood tests haven't shown anything conclusive, either. Now he's been there for two days, and still nothing conclusive.

Thankfully, grandpa's doing much better: last report says he's bright and alert, and walking with confidence again. I can't help wishing, though, that there had been something specific to fix. That's what medicine does, right? Aren't we supposed to go to the hospital to get our problems fixed?

Dr. A. is going to look at a change in Grandpa's medication schedule, and maybe switch one of the drugs for an alternate, and hopefully that will prove to be the "cause"--or at the least, create a positive effect.

I'm still reminded of what my dad said when Grandpa first recovered from his accident fifteen years ago: 'he's here because of God's grace, and we'll always have reminders of that.' I'm still not sure how to understand grace and pain as two opposite things that can coexist in that way, but then maybe my understanding of grace is all wrong. Maybe pain and grace aren't such mutually exclusive concepts.
have to think more about that one...

(Oh, and a big "thanks!" for your prayers, everyone.)