Being sick has to be one of the worst feelings. Your body revolts on itself in an attempt to self destruct. Now, I had a very healthy run and cannot remember being truly sick for several years. So, it was a complete and utter sucker punch when I became sick yesterday.
I had just completed a twelve hour shift in the emergency room and finally parked in my driveway at 7am. I wasn’t able to convince my body to sleep until 10am. At 2pm, I woke up crying in agonizing pain. My stomach felt like my kidneys, liver, and intestines were reenacting world war two. No matter how I tossed and turned I could not find a position that would alleviate the pain. It was the worse pain I had experienced since right before my last surgery when my stomach was literally folding on top of itself.
So, I called my best friend and asked for her to pray with me. I convinced myself that the pain I would feel getting up for Tylenol would pay off (which I later learned was a lie), and swallowed two extra strength tablets. I promptly crawled back into bed and tossed and turned for another hour. There was someone at my door and I had to find to will power to crawl out of bed.
It was my best friend with a care package of Gatorade, Powerade, chicken soup (homemade), rice, crackers, and a baggie of Tylenol and IBProfein. I hugged her, thanked her, cried, and walked her back out to the door.
Pouring myself a glass of Gatorade, the yummy fruit punch one, I crawled back into bed and snuggled into the blankets. The next twenty three hours were spent in agony. Praying, quoting scripture, and singing myself my favorite Hebrew lullaby, were the only things that kept me from a complete and total breakdown.
It took several moments of convincing and self preparation in order to simply turn on my side and bring the cup of Gatorade to my lips. The trips to the bathroom felt as though they would kill me and the only thing that forced me out of bed was the knowledge that simply going in the bed was not an option.
Somewhere a little after midnight on a trip to the bathroom, I checked my temperature: it was 101.4. I rejoiced at that fact. I was elated to know that my body was fighting back and there was hope that I would burn the virus off.
Many hours were spent in desperation seeking a position that would alleviate the pain to my stomach, kidneys, sides, back, head, and to keep my body between freezing and boiling.
I came to complete consciousness around 12:40pm. The pain had subsided, and when I checked the fever had broken. I promptly ate two bowls of chicken soup with rice- it had been thirty hours since I had last eaten. As much as eating boosted my energy, I felt disgusting with the layers of dried sweat from maintaining a fever for most of the night.
After taking a shower and putting on clean clothes, I finally felt like a human again. I thanked my Papa for pulling me through it, for keeping me focused through it, and for the loving friend He had graced me with.
I came over to visit with my friend now that I was feeling better. I am still a little nauseas with a slight pang in my kidneys still and I don’t feel completely here (probably because I was baking my brain last night), but I am definitely a lot better and everything in manageable.
Looking back I think it is kind of good to experience real pain every once in a while. It has definitely renewed my compassion for my patients that come through the ER. But it also did something more than that, because even as I was moaning and wailing with tears streaming down my face, I could feel my Papa with me, holding my in His hand and whispering to me that everything was going to be okay and that I could pull through this and every time I started to struggle with a verse or my song He would whisper the right words in my ear.
It was an amazing feeling to know that even when no one else in the world was there with me, my Papa was there. That my God is great enough that He knows the second I get sick and He picks me up and carries me through it. I am so thankful and feel so entirely loved. So, I guess being sick doesn’t have to be so bad after all.
Dream to Dreams 