No time for tears

Psalm 145:18 The Lord is near to all who call on him...

I could hear her over the intercom asking if I needed some help.  I heard myself saying that something was wrong with Christopher.  It seemed like he was getting worse.  Our "fresh out of nursing school" nurse appeared in a flash to check on him.  She may have been inexperienced, but she knew something was very wrong.  She checked all the usuals- his temperature, his diaper, and his abdomen.  It left her with a look of concern on her face.  I asked her to call the doctor.  She promptly left the room to make the call.

I was left alone with Christopher, and I felt the panic growing inside me.  I wasn't sure what was wrong, but I knew it wasn't good.  Did she get in touch with that doctor yet?  What was taking so long?  Don't they know how bad this is?  I had to have a little talk with myself.  Stay calm.  Stay focused.  He is counting on you to help him. 

"Newbie nurse" reappeared.  She had talked to the doctor.  They were aware of the situation, but there was an emergency in the operating room.  Someone would be up to check on Christopher soon.  She tried to reassure me, but her demeanor betrayed her true feelings.  She was scared, and I could see it.  I asked her who else was on duty.  Was there anyone else who could help us?  Again, she tried to reassure me that she had things under control, but I wasn't so sure.  I had a bad feeling.

The waiting game began, and it was an incredibly slow game!  The back and forth started between me, the nurse, and the doctor.  It went something like this.  I CONSTANTLY bugged the nurse to call the doctor.  The nurse called the doctor who said someone would be up as soon as possible to check on Christopher. The nurse would relay the message to me.  We went around and around like this for hours while Christopher continued to get worse.  As he got worse, I ramped up my requests to the nurse to call the doctor.  The circle game continued going round and round.  It made me dizzy, frustrated, and exhausted!  All the while, Christopher's situation continued to deteriorate into endless pain and despair.

After several hours, I got tired of playing the game.  The next time that I asked the nurse to call the doctor, I told her that I wanted to talk to the doctor directly.  She did as I asked, but the doctor said he was right in the middle of an emergency surgery and couldn't talk.  I asked if I could talk to one of the interns, but they were all busy too.  I kept having the nurse call, but they kept refusing to talk to me.  Out of desperation and frustration I decided to call the hospital switch board and have one of the surgeons paged, but I was told that I couldn't have a physician paged if the patient was already admitted to the hospital.  It seemed like I was being thwarted at every turn.

More time passed.  I didn't think he could get any worse, but he did.  They moved us to isolation because they weren't sure if he was contagious or not.  It was a private room, but what did they think he had?  If they knew, they weren't sharing the information with me.

I put on the isolation garb (gown, mask, gloves) and looked at my son.  He had stopped crying now, not because the pain was gone, but because he just didn't have the physical strength to cry anymore.  He just moaned this sad, painful groan over and over again.  It was one of the most helpless moments of my life.  I stood there looking at him and feeling absolutely useless.  For the first time in months, I started to cry.  I hadn't let myself cry in a long time.  I was afraid to.  I was afraid if I started crying, I wouldn't be able to stop.  I was afraid I would lose control and not be able to help my son.  I knew helping him required clear thinking.  That is pretty hard to do when you are consumed and overwhelmed by your tears, so I hadn't allowed myself the luxury of crying.  Looking at him now, I couldn't help myself.  It was all just too much, and I was feeling very alone with it all. 

No pain here, just lots of smiles!

As I started to have my own private "pity party," I caught a glimpse of him looking at me.  His moaning had stopped, and he was looking at me with his eyes wide open.  He had a look on his face that said stop crying ,so you can help me.  He was actually looking at me and begging me to pull it together. He needed my help!  That's all it took.  Cry time over.  I pushed the button to alert the nurse, and asked her to call the doctor again.


If you have never accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you can pray like this:

More tomorrow...