Have not bee focused on writing of what I was going to continue with but hope to pick up again soon. I do want to follow through with what I have learned regarding guidance for next phase. Also, how I came to discern yet again due to effect of how difficult for people to cope with mysticism. Love and mercy must be always foremost.
And to that, this past Sunday morning--just three days ago which seems like eons--I received a text from a cousin with whom the closeness is held fast by bonds of deeper sharing of family history, blood, and timeless sharing of life's trials and spiritual response thereof.
A dear granddaughter had, we thought from two doctor visits, a week of the flu. Yet that morning was being taken to emergency room with 106 degree fever and recurrence of vomiting. (I won't go into what I knew in inner sight, nor the sense of dire urgency that crescendoed over the next two days of need to get the teen to a major hospital noted for excellence and specialization in severe children's illnesses.)
It still is exhausting to even consider all the events that transpired, all down the spiraling symptoms of sepsis to septic shock. But at least late last night she was life-flighted there. This morning more news of dire circumstances: dialysis in attempt to bring into control ammonia levels in blood.
The family pediatrician simply bungled the diagnosis, then discouraged having her taken to larger hospital; and unfortunately the family was unable to have clarity. Yes, I increasingly urged, to a point yesterday I pulled out all the stops because they were not grasping the trajectory nor the consequences as time was of essence. And I still do not know if my attempts were a total waste, although I rather think so. It is causing me to consider God's will in my mission and purpose, which is right now not the point other than since we cannot control outcomes or force others to see and act, we can reflect and adjust our own actions, approach, purpose.
I can't go over the horrible details again, the frustration of how on earth a doctor who I have known for years could bungle, could take upon himself a rapidly deteriorating patient and now to find out she was not even tested for flu. The specialists scrambling to keep her alive now in the outstanding hospital where she arrived perhaps midnight last by helicopter, are trying to figure out the source of the infection for they have no way of knowing the cause of the illness, now, to begin with.
Yet they cannot deal more with that until they get her blood to a point that will sustain her and hooked her up to dialysis this morning. And that was the only reason a second doctor at a slightly larger hospital of which the first doctor finally did send her but wanting to keep her in the same hospital system and to a colleague of his--realized late last night that the kidney infection could soon require dialysis, and the only dialysis machines for youth are at the critically acclaimed children's hospital but 100 or so miles away. While at least he discovered that morning shortly after she arrived at that hospital, the kidney infection and honestly spoke what the family had been misguided in by the first doctor, that she was already in septic shock, he, also, thought he could handle the situation.
Nothing I said the the cousin in a final attempt at straight talk and urgent pleading, got through. I do understand. People trust in doctors especially ones they have known; and trust them to refer to who will help further. They are by then quite vulnerable, in shock, and some personality types tend to denial, regardless.
So this morning with a phone call, my cousin was able to talk just a little. Verbalizing painfully serious, frightening information and feelings for her has always been difficult. She tends toward holding it all in--so I had to ask the silent line if she is there, if she is on the phone. Yes, and she then somehow was able to pull out of denial and related how even yesterday afternoon the second doctor at second hospital had had a heart scan which the first doctor should have checked given the times of fever and heart rate spikes, and then the drop in blood pressure which surely would have been in her charts when the first doctor finally sent her on to his colleague.
Heart had fluid around it in vast amount; a cardiologist was called in to drain it. Still the second doctor did not immediately have her life flighted to the acclaimed and appropriate children's hospital. But yes, last night he did, thank God. Praising God and not being able to thank Him enough--was relieved she was finally where she needed to be!
And God had broken through the blocks by the doctors (trying to have mercy and understand why a doctor, let alone two, would try to take on what is beyond what is best). Nothing I had verbally attempted had done a thing to enact the change and action so urgently needed. God did it in His way and time.
All along I'd been reminding that God's will is perfect and we do not know what He has in His purpose, but that praying for miracles and what we humans so desire is something God understands and probably even expects of us! We are His children; we are his humans immersed in our temporal lives and distractions.
I have heard nothing more since morning. I have come yet again to understanding that I do not need to know; I do not need details. What I did know and what I could see, and in some instance before I'd get an update or be not surprised when one would come as I was praying for breakthrough and action. Some anger would start to creep in. I prayed for God to have mercy particularly on the first doctor's soul--the man I have known for years. His choices even to not being direct in labeling the problem with slightly incorrect term rather than the sepsis it was on Sunday--for perhaps the girl's mother might have not been assuaged into thinking all is going to be all right--just a viral infection of stomach and intestines, told her Monday morning. Or that she'd just be in overnight.
There is so much more. But I was reminded that anger is the antithesis to effective prayer. It also does no good in clearing the mind from temporal angst. I also was reminded that praise and adoration is a high form of prayer--even if the heart and mind not might "feel" it. (It is a bit like a forced smile that studies have shown improve health and attitude no matter that it is forced.)
So I have tried to praise and thank God; and while I have not done well with it, I know it is the best to do. Like the best and appropriate hospital, praise and adoration are the best and appropriate praying.
I finally called my elderly aunt--the teen's great-grandmother--when there was no more to be updated on various persons' prayer chains and nothing more in temporal attempts on my part needed. She, too, had been praying. She has been through great traumas in life, herself: a son--my cousin born five days prior to me--got cancer in the spring of our senior year of high school. By early March of the following year he was laid to rest. Much of the ineptitude that has occurred now, reminded her of then.
We kept telling each other we cannot look back, not even in the past week. It was a good talk; she inspired me with the reminders of aspects in prayer, and she said I reminded her in aspects of prayer and of how to view this, open to God's view. One thing that I needed in reminder was that she said she had begun praying for whatever is best for sweet "A". Yes, my jumbled mind had scuttled over that good prayer when considering potential organ shut-down, organ transplants, amputations--and yet God could bring His perfect will and purpose from any of it, if "A" could live as well as if He chose in His perfect will to take her from her family.
So I am also simply praying for whatever is best for "A". And even though I'm on yet another z-pack and the vertigo is worsening again, I hope that my heart and soul are praising and adoring God for my own intellect and will are tired, and dozing on my sleeping bag and letting go of non-useful angst have been about all that has occurred. (My angel nudged me last night amidst all this other trauma, to Google vertigo as a side effect of azithromycin: a direct match).
At least I was able to tell my aunt as well as my cousin (although I know the latter would probably not have taken it in beyond the initial mention), that the Lord on Monday night had shown to me Jesus, and He was there with "A", and He was holding her in His arms. That sight has not left since then. When I told my cousin (and I repeated to my aunt), she did ask, "What does that mean?" She probably feared it meant "A" would die; this was but a day ago before more reality was settling in. I said it simply means He is there with her; He is holding her in His arms. And that there is nothing better than that. Take it as it is; be assured He is there holding her. And it means, I suppose, that no matter what direction or outcome for "A" and for us--either way it is good. There is nothing better than to be with Jesus here or there.
And now I know that it also means that no matter what, God is going to do what is BEST for "A."
God bless His Real Presence in all of us!
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