The Wait Ends
The lab results finally came and they were normal. Soon morphine infused into my IV would provide relief. But the pain got so far ahead of me that two milligrams did nothing to ease it. Four milligrams didn’t work. Six milligrams helped. I had a total of eight. I knew that amount would make me sick.
To the nurse standing next to my lovely black plastic bed I said, “I think I’ll need an anti-nausea medication.” What did he say? “Okay. Let me know if you think you’re gonna throw up.” Then he departed.
Possible responses swirled around my brain with nowhere to land. This is what I should have said: “Okay, no problem. At the moment I sense I’m going to hurl I’ll jump off this bed and go on a nurse hunt. I’m sure I’ll find you in time for you to gather the supplies, get the doctor’s permission, accompany me back to the bed, and inject the medication into my IV. By then the nausea will have subsided and all will be well. I’m sure that’s how this will go down.”
Moments later it all came up. A big splash of water and morphine erupted from my stomach. It landed on the black plastic bed. Since there was no food in my stomach it wasn’t as miserable as barfing after a big meal. Even so, a technician had to clean it up. She was lucky it was fluid, not chunks.
Forgive my sarcasm. I have a hard time with stupidity. Comedian Bill Engvall has it right when he says, “Here’s your sign.” Sometimes people say and do things that just don’t make any sense. Excuse me but vomit won’t wait. When the stomach is ready to expel its contents you don’t have a choice but to let her rip. Any nurse ought to know that.
After my episode of expulsion I understood firsthand why the beds were covered with thick black plastic and not lovely linens. Someone would end up doing a lot of laundry, and who has time for laundry when they’re busy saving lives and killing pain? And at last my pain was killed. There’s nothing like relief from prolonged severe pain.
God can do that in our hearts and souls. He has a way of easing intense heartache so we don’t slide into despair. I would experience this in years to come. For now — October 2001 — I had to tend to my thumb.
Had I been able to see the future this trip to the ER would have seemed like a trip to Disneyland. The worst phase of my transformational journey was on its way.
THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:
We live in a desperately broken world. It’s easy to lose hope and enter periods of grief at every turn if we let ourselves. Our only true hope is found in Jesus Christ who has warned us of trials and tribulations, but who also has overcome them — I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)
When I feel overcome by suffering or grief, or I’m angry at God, or I don’t feel like praying, I force myself to grab my Bible and open to the Psalms. Supernaturally, as I read, I feel the tension in my body subside and God’s indescribable peace soothes me. Some of my favorites: Psalm 10, 18, 25, 27, 31, 35, 37, 40, 41, 55-57, 91, 103, 139-145. Dive in to the book of Psalms this week and let the Holy Spirit soothe your soul with His peace.
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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org
