Paula and I helped mom to get dressed, she was weak and in pain. Where was the pain coming from? Couldn’t figure it out. We got her into the car, dad was still in the house, mom said, “If we don’t hurry up I may pass out…”
“DAD! Hurry up!! We need to go!” Dad rushed to get in the car, later realizing that he’d forgotten to put his teeth in. Rusty had to take him home later to get his teeth.
Too familiar ride to the Emergency Room, felt like my heart was racing as I ran red lights and drove too fast. Mom was pretty weak when we got there, we pulled up to the door and got a wheelchair. Dad and Paula wheeled her in while I parked. The woman at the desk was asking us to fill out forms and taking her sweet time about it. I tried to sign for mom, the receptionist became irritated with me and walked around the desk to have mom actually sign the papers. I wanted to scream at her. I’m sure I was rude…I came back a bit later to apologize.
Once mom was taken in and settled, she asked for pain medicine. Her knees still hurt. ? Still don’t know why. Even when the Explanation of Benefits from the Insurance company came this month and the diagnosis was “lower extremity pain”…why? I hate that she was in pain. I hate that she had to suffer at all. I …. hate all of this. God why? God when will I stop asking why? Will I ever know the reason for all of this? Is there a reason?
So while mom was in the ER, hooked up to the machines that read her blood pressure, heart rate, and respirations we took turns rubbing her knees for her. Paula used her phone to turn on some music, she and I sang. Dad and I paced. Rusty showed up and sat with us. The doctor said, “We’ll wait for the blood work to come back and get you some pain medicine.”
While we waited I smelled incense, or annointing oil? We had used annointing oil earlier when mom passed out at home…but this was a very strong smell. Too strong to be from 12 hours earlier. I asked Paula if she smelled it, nope. I smelled it so strong that I went out to the hall and checked to see where it was coming from. It wasn’t in the hall. It was in mom’s room. Maybe that should have been comforting. It wasn’t. I was confused as to why I was smelling it. But I was.
The doctor came back and told us that they would be admitting mom, her blood work was crazy. WBC was over 200.
Still, even as my brain heard that number, my faith said, “It’s okay, God doesn’t look at the numbers. We don’t care about the numbers. God is in control here, not a doctor and not a blood test. We do not fear bad news, we do not fear a blood test.”
Before the room was ready Aimie and Nikki showed up. We had called everyone for prayer…the troops were mobilized. Aimie said she’d tried to reach Stan, he was in New Mexico with Teresa and her family with no cell reception. And we were in an ER with no cell reception.
Enough for now. Even as I write the events of that last 24 hours I wonder if we could have, should have done something differently. I hate the would of, should of, could of’s of this whole thing. It’s so hard to imagine that this is JUST THE WAY it was supposed to be. How can that be true? How can I find peace in that? Will I ever understand this God? Will I ever find peace with it? I hate this. I miss her, but I didn’t want her to suffer. If she would have had to suffer to stay…I would have chosen that she not suffer. But I thought we could have both…not suffer and stay. Is this world so messed up and so wrong that we can’t be completely healed here? Does complete healing only come in heaven? If any of us do suffer disease and receive healing here on earth…is it only for a short time? Only a gift of time? Did we use that gift of the past 5 years with mom wisely? I think yes.
God I’m not angry with you. I’m sorry that I was. I still have questions, and I hope that you help me to find the answers. I love you God and I trust you. I’m so fragile right now, please hold me together. Please tell my mom that we love her so much, and that she was a great mom, grandma, great-grandma. Tell her that we will be okay, and that we are leaning on you. That would be what she’d want to know./em>