Friday, April 12, 2013

Part 2 : Please God!

Kim is slowly improving, but also suffering some challenging headaches.  Hoping those go away soon. 

Back to when she had to go to the ER:

As we drove back to the hospital I was SO mad!  Mad because I didn't think she was ready to be released from the hospital in the first place.  Mad because she had to keep suffering.  I didn't understand why this had to be so hard?  Even as we drove, Kim asked me why this was happening? I couldn't give her an answer.  After a long pause, I simply said we just had to trust that there was a reason.

I was worried that once we got to the ER they would keep Kim in the waiting room for a long time.  I haven't had to take my kids to the ER very often, but it always includes a wait.  I pulled into the ER no-parking-drop-off zone, grabbed a wheelchair and took her to the front counter, explaining the situation. I planned on moving my car out of the no-parking zone as soon as she was settled in the waiting room--which was FULL of people.

Instead of waiting, we were immediately taken back to a room.  A nurse came in and started taking vitals, hooking her up to monitors.  Another nurse walked in and the first nurse looked over, giving her a long stare--the kind that makes the observer know something is wrong.  The first nurse casually asked if I knew what Kim's resting heart rate normally was?  Yes, I did, because I had just spent three days in the hospital seeing "90" on the monitor. 

I looked at the current monitor.  50.  Dipping into the 40s.

At this point, things moved quickly!  Doctors came in.  An IV attempted.  Questions asked.  An MRI release quickly filled out.  Medications looked at. 

I didn't ask questions.  I just kept moving out of the way as more people came in.  They simply explained they needed to make sure everything was okay at the surgical site.  They were calm--yet not.  One asked me if her face always drooped a little on one side?  HUH?  I didn't see a droop!  It was SCARY!  Within five minutes we were heading to the back elevators to get an MRI.  Previously, I had been allowed to be with Kim for her MRIs, but not this time.  I gave her a kiss and watched the giant white door slowly click shut.

At this point I was terrified!  I called Hubby and told him the situation.  Lizzy had just come home so he was able to leave right away.  I paced.  And paced.  I prayed. I worried about stupid things like my car being towed, because I hadn't yet had the chance to move it.  I paced.  I checked my watch.  I prayed. 

The medical team said it would be a quick MRI.  Five minutes.  I paced.  Prayed a simple please God, please. Checked my watch.  Ten.  Fifteen.  Twenty.

Please God.  Let her be okay.  Please God.  Please.  I can't take losing another child.  I know I haven't been the best mother.  I know I don't take my kids to church every Sunday.  I know I don't listen to you. I fail.  I don't pray enough.  I don't read my Bible enough.  I get frustrated with your plan and want to live by my own plan. 

Twenty-five.  Thirty.  Thirty-five. Pacing, pacing, in a long hallow hospital corridor. 

Please God.  I beg you.  Let her be okay. 

Forty.  Forty-five.

I'll do anything.

And my next thought was Really?  ANYTHING?  Am I really open to accepting God's will, whatever it might be?  Am I?  Even if it means losing another child?   

And I couldn't answer myself, but strangely, I did feel peace.  Whatever happened, I knew God would be with me.  I knew I wouldn't be alone.  And I knew I wasn't in control.  At all. 

The white doors mechanically moved back open.  Nurses pushing forward the rolling stretcher. Kim still yellow-pale.  No explanation of the delay.  No results.  Silence as the wheels jammed on turns and bedrails clanged against elevator doors. 

Back to the ER where an IV was successful inserted, just as Hubby arrived.  Hugs of relief.  Looks of fear.  Bags of clear fluid flowing into thirsty veins. Please God.  Please.  The neurosurgeon arriving at 2am with a smile, saying the MRI looked good!  

Thank you God!  Thank-you-a-million-times-thank-you! 

Sitting in the dark.  One parent on each side.  Beeping monitors with numbers finally rising.  Never a complete understanding of what had happened.  Simply thankful.

Thank you God!  A million times THANK YOU!


Lisa said...

This post sure brought tears to my eyes. I do know that bargaining, Ann! Hoping she's on the mend now!! Praying for her (and you).

asian~treasures said...

Praising the Lord for the quickness you got a room & the very careful medical staff!

Praying she's on the mend & HOME!

kathy said...

God does not give us more then we can manage.
I wish I could quote the verse.
I will pray more ardently for Kim.

Our Family said...

Tears...great post! Continued prayers as she recovers!