Friday morning, every seat at the large conference table was filled. In response to our expressed thoughts, the chief neurosurgeon proclaimed that, “Matt had a 75% probability of achieving our functional goals and that it was not out of the realm of possibility for him to teach again.” Wow! Really? Aware that the other neurosurgeon was not as optimistic, we cautiously viewed this news as hopeful. Our doubts were assuaged when both neurosurgeons expressed agreement, that in all probability, the brain damage was not complete and, that at least in part, Matt would be able to overcome potential losses because of neuroplasticity, which is the brain’s ability to reorganize and heal. The medical team concluded that there was enough “evidence” now to support our going forward. They concurred that Matt had the potential for good cognitive and physical recovery barring any unforeseen or major complications.

We were encouraged to make a timely, definitive commitment to move forward, or to take Matt off life support. One neurosurgeon bluntly stated, that although he would support our decision if we chose the latter, he could not agree with it. If we decided to proceed with life-preserving medical care, he strongly recommended performing an immediate angiogram--to look more closely at the blood vessels for potential complications such as a life-threatening brain aneurysm, and repair it, if found.

As our family deliberated, we realized that Matt had not achieved, even a hint of, one of the measurable indicators we’d previously identified—the ones to guide our choice to preserve or relinquish—yet, the doctors’ revised and more favorable prognosis compelled us to reconsider. After weighing their final recommendations, at last, our family agreed to move forward!

What a wonderful feeling to have that behind us. We were committed to his immediate- and long-term rehab. The angiogram was performed the same morning and blessedly no aneurysm was found. The surgeon was able to report that Matt’s original AVM had shrunk in the two years since his gamma knife surgery, from a Grade 4 to a Grade 2-3. He was also able to provide some closure on why Matt’s AVM may have hemorrhaged. He hypothesized that the gamma knife radiation had narrowed, or closed off, the veins more quickly than the arteries. As a result, the blood passing from the arteries to the veins had nowhere to go, except to bleed out into the surrounding tissues.

Gladly, we reached out to share the good news. The responses came flooding in. The Lafayette College Chaplin texted, “I am sitting in the parking lot outside my doctor’s office just crying tears of joy. God is so very good.” And our daughter-in-law, Corinne, who was back in California responded, “Keep on working with Matt. If he is coming back, it will be with your voice, his beloved mother’s voice that he knows so well. We will get through this together.”

One decision behind us, I slept soundly that night—content to wait until the morrow to face the next hurdle.