|My IV pole. It was so heavy, I had to have help pushing it.|
September 4, 2010, is a date we’ll always remember as the day our lives were turned completely upside down in just a matter of minutes. Our evening began with a delicious dinner at our good friends, Mark and Denise’s. None of us had a clue what was about to transpire. After dinner, I had an uncomfortable feeling in my tummy. I was fine until then, so I dismissed it and took some Advil. But within minutes, I knew we had to leave. We were all shocked at how suddenly it hit.
During the five-minute ride home, I began to get sick to my stomach. I couldn’t keep anything down. In the hours I lay wreathed in pain, I began to rule things out in my mind. Gallbladder – gone. Appendix – gone. Swine Flu – had it last summer. Salmonella? I should have stopped eating eggs.
Around one in the morning, I said to myself, “This is what it must feel like to die.” It was more pain than I’d ever experienced, in spite of several pregnancies and numerous surgeries. At that moment, I distinctly heard God speak into my spirit, “You WILL die if you don’t go to the .” If we had medical coverage, I would have already been to the ER. I was reluctant to go since we were temporarily without insurance.
Concerned about the cost, I asked God what hospital to go to. He told me Skyridge. I considered calling the ambulance, but I knew Greg would get me there faster. I didn’t even change out of my nightgown. When God said go, I grabbed my robe and purse. Greg piggybacked me down the stairs because I was too weak to walk.
We made it there in record time. Greg parked in front of the emergency entrance until I was settled in a room. I remember sitting in the wheelchair doubled over and thinking I was rude for not looking at the triage nurses while they asked me questions.
“What is your level of pain on a scale of 1-10?”
“Twelve.” I answered, wondering how I was even able to be coherent.
The Dilaudid just barely took the edge off. After many hours in the ER, an x-ray showed nothing, but a CAT scan revealed an intestinal blockage. Scar tissue was wrapped around my upper intestine, strangling it. Who knew?
It’s interesting the words that bring you comfort at a time like this. I remember them clearly, “In two hours we are going to perform live saving surgery…” even the five-inch incision seemed irrelevant. Thank you Jesus! Relief was on the way.