So, Rebecca is back in the hospital. Actually, she has been ‘back’ in the hospital since last Saturday, I was too busy to update.
Just in case you were ever in doubt:
Hospitals = NO EXTRA TIME.
The iron infusion Rebecca was hospitalized for almost two weeks ago triggered an autoimmune relapse. Rebecca’s autoimmune disease has inflamed her brain-stem which regulates her heart and oxygen rate. Her vitals result in bottomed-out oxygen saturation levels and extreme heart rates. This makes it difficult, if not impossible, for Rebecca to walk and even sit up at times.
In short, this is the same issue Rebecca dealt with last February that hospitalized her for 16 days and the same issue she was placed on a BiPAP machine in 2014.
Our goal this round is to quiet Rebecca’s immune system by loading her with large doses of steroids while giving her supplemental IV bolus support and oxygen. Now that we (think we) know what we are dealing with, we pray to reverse Rebecca’s symptoms in a timely fashion without incurring more damage.
Wow. I just crammed an incredible amount of medical information in a few sentences. I might be a word genius…
Sometimes, not all of the time, but sometimes I get overwhelmed.
Shocking, I know. Especially considering my life is so calm and uneventful.
When I feel pressure mounting from the barrage of confusing specialists’ opinions, to the barrage of confusing lab results, to the barrage of confusing procedure reports; while looking at my child in a hospital bed for the 1,100th plus day in her life, still in pain and still struggling to comprehend her endless ailments, I indeed, feel overwhelmed.
Again, shocking. I know.
At times like this, it was as if Paul read my mind while writing 2 Corinthians 1:8-9, “we were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death.”
- Under great pressure – CHECK.
- Far beyond my ability to endure – CHECK.
- Despair of life – CHECK.
- Felt the sentence of death – CHECK. CHECK.
There will be times in our lives when we are overwhelmed. Overwhelmed to the point of despair. Overwhelmed to the point of death:
A broken marriage…
Severe loss of income…
The death of a child…
A terminal illness…
But verse 9 ends with, “this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God…” Because, in our desperation, we were never meant to carry the burden of our crises.
We were meant to rely on God.
Years into my hospital existence, I noticed something about myself in moments of complete and utter ‘whelm’. Without consciously thinking, I place my hands against my chest and fly them, ever so slightly, toward the sky. Not to the point where anyone would think I was crazy (although that statement is debatable), but just enough to give merit to my action.
A humble attempt at relieving pressure by casting my cares upon the Lord.
The greater the burden I feel, the more my hands repeatedly reach for the sky. Today is one of those days where my hands are weary…
This unremarkable gesture became profoundly remarkable to my soul. A simple reminder to rely on a God who knows far more about my child’s condition than the entire said barrage of specialists, lab interpreters, and procedure reports combined. My unexpected miracle.
Thank you Lord.
“Cast your anxiety on Him because He cares for you,” 1 Peter 5:7.