On August 3, 2007 I dragged myself out of bed in the afternoon, took a shower and got dressed so my husband could take me to the hospital. I had been sick for two weeks. My body hurt, I had a fever and I hadn’t kept anything down for an entire week. I remember looking in the mirror that day and thinking that I looked half dead. Little did I know -- I was.
I arrived at the hospital with so little energy that my husband had to take me into the emergency room in a wheelchair. I was told that my blood pressure was way too low. A blood pressure cuff was immediately placed around my upper arm so I could be monitored. I was also hooked up to a heart rate monitor and an IV so I could get the fluids needed to re-hydrate me and medication, and I was given oxygen. Different doctors came in and out, and then I was told that my kidneys were failing. That certainly wasn’t something I expected to hear!
I was immediately admitted to the ICU, and every single day blood was drawn so test after test after test after test could be done. It got to where the veins in my arms wouldn’t give the blood needed for any more tests, and the IV couldn’t be administered anymore after being changed three different times. Before my veins gave out I was told that my potassium and magnesium levels were all out of whack and I had a staph infection in my bloodstream. And by the time the IV could no longer be used my kidneys were functioning well again and the infection was gone, so I was able to take oral medication for my potassium and magnesium levels.
While I was at home sick in bed I kept claiming God’s Word, “By Jesus’ stripes I am healed… by Jesus’ stripes I am healed.” Then about two days before I finally let my husband take me to the hospital this thought came to me – ‘God can heal miraculously, but He also gave us doctors and hospitals’. I have never heard God’s voice audibly. I do believe there are those who do and I also believe that He’s never spoken to me in that way because He knows I’m not ready for all that. And, truth be told, I’m not sure I ever will be. Anyway, I know the heavenly Father was speaking to me that day. Still, I can’t stand hospitals, don’t like doctors probing and prodding, and needles certainly are no friends of mine. So I convinced myself that I might not be able to keep anything down, but that was just my body getting rid of toxins or whatever it was in me that shouldn’t have been there. And I kept trying to convince my husband, who was so concerned about me, that the sickness would pass. But I finally did listen to the voice of God and my husband and it’s a good thing I did. If I would have waited any longer to get to the hospital I probably wouldn’t be here today.
So here’s what I have to say one year later - “I testify to God's awesome goodness and healing power! To God be the glory for all the things He has done! I thank Him so very much for “keeping” me as I tried to convince myself I didn’t need to see a doctor. I thank Him for allowing me to remain here with my husband and two sons. I thank Him for doctors who know how to reverse the condition of failing kidneys. I thank Him for the doctor who seemed a bit baffled at first as to what was going on inside of my body with its high white blood cell count, but he kept asking me questions and did many different tests until he figured it out. I thank Him for physical therapists who accompanied me up and down the hospital corridor; it was like I had to learn to walk all over again. I thank Him for the nurses who washed me when I couldn’t wash myself, and helped me to the bathroom when I could barely walk. I thank Him for loving family & church members who believe in the power of prayer. I thank Him for life!
Obviously, my work here isn’t done, and that’s cool with me. Hopefully, I’ll get it right so when my heavenly Father does call me home, He will say, “Well done, my daughter. Well done.”
A couple days ago I made a choice that was extremely difficult for me. I chose to accept the fact that my youngest son no longer needs my permission for every little thing he wants to do. He probably felt I was treating him like a child when I wouldn’t allow him to do certain things (staying out as late as his friends were allowed to, for instance), but I only wanted to protect him. That’s what a loving Mom does.