Surviving the ER

Due to an incorrect test reading at a local doctor’s office, my husband took an unnecessary trip to the ER. While there, he was given a drug that almost killed him. His eyes turned red; his fingertips were blue. His neck swelled to the same size as his head.

Being a true Southerner,  I found a fan and fanned with the strength of a large woman in a two-size-too-tight dress on a 100-degree day in Georgia. To my disbelief, that didn’t help. (Thank goodness I’m not a nurse.)

When the fanning didn’t work, I finally realized my husband was having a life-threatening allergic reaction to the drug. I rushed out to the nurse’s station and asked for help. After checking him, the nurse called a code and within seconds the room filled with an onslaught of people dressed in every color of uniform the hospital offers.

I found myself standing next to the window praying and crying that the doctors would do something to save him. I must have been praying out loud because a chaplain (the only one dressed in black) came over and tried to draw my attention away from my husband. That didn’t work any more than my fanning. I wasn’t about to take my eyes off the situation.

A host of doctors stood around my husband looking at the spectacle of it all. Most just wanted to look down his throat to see the mass of gas that was blocking his airway. I heard one say, “I’ve never seen this before.”

I was thinking, “Do something people, or he is going to die.” I wanted action. But, not a soul moved. The only thing in action was the Benadryl in his IV. Someone had given him a breathing treatment, but still, he couldn’t talk. His face and neck had not gone down at all. That took hours.

After the horrible event was over and we were safe at home, I remember thinking about those doctors. How calm they appeared. They weren’t upset at all. They were almost to the point of being entertained.

The reason for their calmness wasn’t because of a lack of personal relationship with this dying guy. I believe it was because they knew the reversal drugs would work. And, if not, they could cut his throat open and get him breathing again. The peace they were experiencing came from their belief in the medication and their training. They could spring into action in a moment’s notice.

I couldn’t see that because I was watching my husband die in front of me. I was thinking “what will happen if he doesn’t make it?” What I wasn’t so sure about were the doctors standing around the room. It appeared to me that they needed to be moving. Doing something.

When trouble surrounds us, we might wonder if we are going to make it. We cry out to Jesus and sometimes he seems so far away. We don’t see any action, there’s no wind, no movement at all. Why won’t He do something to help us?

Martha and Mary cried out. Jesus waited. There was nothing. Jesus wasn’t looking for a fan or a nurse; he didn’t need them. He waited for an exact moment before he got up and walked their way. He knew everything would be okay once he arrived in their town. And it was.

Even when we don’t see anything happening around us. Jesus isn’t standing around being entertained by our misery. He is waiting for the perfect moment to reach out to our need. His timing isn’t our timing. Be still and trust. He’s ready to spring into action on  your behalf. He is well trained in meeting needs at their deepest point. Our peace can come from knowing that Jesus has skills. And, He’s got our back!

 

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2 thoughts on “Surviving the ER

  1. Nice story! Will help me to remember that God is in control no matter what I think about my circumstances. Glad your husband is ok now. Sounds like a frightening ordeal.

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