This morning I went back to check on Marvin.
All night long his family had taken turns manually pumping his Ambu bag. His father was tired, and seemed distracted as he did it now, so I offered to take over. I watched his tiny chest rise and fall with each pump, and stared into his unblinking eyes. Now and then a tear would slip down his cheek. I wondered where his mind was, knowing it was far from his deteriorating body.
His doctor came by to see him and she estimated that he had no more than 72 hours to live, regardless of any treatment he received.
This afternoon we learned that his family decided to remove his breathing tube and take him home so that he could comfortably pass away. He died before they could.
The past few days have been emotionally exhausting. I don’t really know why God brought me into Marvin’s life so near to it’s end. Maybe for his family. Maybe because I’ve been praying for brokenness. In any case, I’m still thankful for the chance to be part of this story. I couldn’t help but smile tonight as I imagined Marvin being welcomed into the arms of The Father.
