The Stockdale Paradox

Today when my wife and I entered the NICU, our son appeared lethargic and pale.  Throughout the night the young child experienced a series of apnea spells and in addition, instant drops in heart rate.  Although he was still breathing in between these episodes, it was quite obvious that the last few hours had really taken their toll on him.  Three nurses and two doctors were at his bedside discussing the options and looking quite concerned.  The events that took place thereafter were more than any parent should ever endure, a stark reminder of the seriousness of the situation our family is currently in. 

After several hours of blood tests, x-rays, and more turmoil than he has experienced in quite a while, he was wrapped back up and his isolet was closed.  Oliver's feedings have since ceased.  His trans-pyloric tube was removed from his digestive tract and replaced with a much larger tube to remove the air from his stomach.  One IV line was placed in each of his little arms.  In his right he was given a blood transfusion and in his left, IV fluid.  During the entire series of procedures, he squirmed and cried out.  His heart rate skyrocketed and his body showed obvious signs of stress.  His mother remained calm, whispered to him, and held his hand the entire time.  I was in hell.

Several hours later and still in shock from the morning trauma, I finally stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air.  As I looked to the sky, I tried to recall a story a great leader once told me.  General James Stockdale, a famous Navy POW, was somehow able to survive 8 long years in a Vietnamese prison.  He was tortured over 20 times and spent quite a bit of those years in solitary confinement.  Later, when he was finally released, he was asked who the men were that didn't make it out of the prison camp alive.  His reply was simple.  "Easy, it was the optimists."  They believed they would be out by Christmas, then Easter, then Thanksgiving.  But each of these holidays came and went, and eventually, these once optimistic soldiers, died of a broken heart.

He then went on to speak these wise words, that for some reason, were able to give me piece of mind during the aftermath of one of the most terrible days of my life.

"You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be."

Tomorrow is another day.  Mom and Dad are with you son.