Journal entry by Jodi Flannery —
Well, friends. I’m feeling like a wrap-up is in order. For you, at least. CHD never ever wraps-up for us but we most certainly enjoy when it can take a backseat every now and then.
So right out of the gate I need to say THANK YOU! My formal thank-yous are late and unorganized and literally a heap of cards and post-it notes that Dan and I have been adding to over the last couple months in our attempts to keep up with the incredible generosity of Team Heal Leah. I’ve been terrible at correspondence but please please trust that every reach, whether digital or material, has been felt and counted and purposed. Your individual ways of showing love and support has added to the collective fuel that got us to this point.
This point. Gosh. Are we REALLY on the other side of this? Pinch me, please. Last week we had our big cardiology appointment with Dr B. The echocardiogram. The x-ray. The heart function test. The talk. (Ok, you guys will be relieved to know that I just deleted an entire paragraph of mumbo-jumbo, pre-appointment emotional anticipation. You’re welcome.) So here goes with the straight talk. Her heart looks SO GOOD! Actually...ehem...in the never before spoken words of our doctor “Excellent. We got exactly what we needed and hoped for out of this surgery.” That’s it, you guys. Let’s just rest right here. All the other parts of our conversation...the medications, the hypotheticals, our silly questions...don’t sweat it. We'll keep that ball in our court. Rather keep reading the word “excellent”. We walked out of the clinic and Dan put his arm around me and joked “we’ve been waiting 8 years for that report”. 8 years. Oh man, the rest of that day was so light and fun and worthy of celebration!
Now does this mean her heart is all good to go forever and ever. Shoot, no. CHD goes on and on and on. She’s got an artificial valve and a pacemaker/defibrillator plus 3 medications that probably aren't going anywhere. Gotta keep this shiny new function protected. But this surgery. This was a big one. Really big. She probably won't ever need a surgery this complex ever again. We hope. Her brilliant team planned seamlessly across hospitals which allowed January 6th to be executed beautifully and efficiently. We are forever grateful and have added a new anniversary to our calendar.
So how is Leah doing? Like the whole-person Leah? Pretty dang fantastic. I’ll admit there were hard days when I thought "This has changed her. She’s scared and nervous and overwhelmed and FED UP.” But here she is just 5 weeks out and she bounced right into school this morning ready and willing to tackle her big days with a “See ya later, Llama Mama” and a smile on her face. And that attitude right there...we give thanks for it every single day because listen, school is HARD for her. Being Leah is not a cake walk. But God love that child, she pushes through her overloaded brain and body because she wants more than anything to be a learner and a friend and just a regular ol' kid. So we take her lead and fuel her fire and bury the “wish it were easier” envy that sometimes grips our own hearts. The life of raising Leah and her unique whole-self. She awakens me. Gosh, I'm writing this with a lump in my throat because I miss her terribly and she's just at school. Goodness, Jodi! Get a grip! ;) I am so so happy for this child!
So we plan to sign off for a while as we settle back into our new normal but you all...Team Heal Leah...we carry you with us and promise to spread your service and goodness in every part of our days. Thank you for everything.
~ Jodi, Dan, Joe, Tommy, Leah (and every Boll and every Flannery that has been lifted up by your love, as well).
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