Doctors removed the valve that measures Dustin’s intracranial pressure from his head this morning. They are continuing him on the anti-swelling medication, though at a reduced dosage. Being moved to a private room may happen in the next day or two. Dustin continues to breath on his own, though he is developing a bit more mucus in his lungs than he should be. Doctors want to keep an eye on that as it runs the risk of leading to pneumonia.
His cognitive ability is not much (if at all) improved. Though much of Dustin’s involuntary body functions continue to work (e.g., breathing, digestion, some reflex), the apparent damage to his brain continues to limit any kind of Eye, Verbal or Motor reponse (the 3 categories for the Glasgow Coma Score). This is because the part of his brain that controls breathing, etc. (the brain stem), was not much effected by the trauma. Nonetheless, the full extent of the damage done to his brain is yet to be known. While there is no real stated prognosis from the medical staff, any recovery beyond the state Dustin is currently in, we can expect to be extremely slow. We pray for the best and plan for the worst.
The good news is that we do not serve a God of prognoses and probabilities, but the God who spoke the universe into being, parted a massive body of water so that millions of his people could walk through on dry ground, made 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish feed thousands of people, restored many from the death bed back to functioning life, and did himself rise from the dead to vindicate his message of redeeming love and grace. This is the God whom we serve, to whom we pray: the God who is near the brokenhearted, who lifts the heads of the downcast, who is with those who are lowly and humble. This the God of Dustin’s salvation, the God who holds the Salters in his gentle and compassionate hands. He is our hope. He is the source of eternal life — to know God through Jesus Christ.
Jesus, Lover of My Soul
Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, ‘til life’s storm is past;
Safe into the haven guide; receive my soul at last.
Other refuge have I none, I helpless, hang on Thee;
Leave, oh leave me not alone, support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed, all help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head in the shadow of Thy wing.
Thou, O Christ, are all I want, here more than all I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is Thy Name, I am all unrighteousness;
False and full of sin I am; Thou art full of truth and grace.
Plenteous grace with Thee is found, grace to cover all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound; make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art, let me take of Thee;
Spring Thou up within my heart; for all eternity.