Chuck was doing more than blogging on his lap top; he was working, thinking, creating, and best of all healing. Just when the road seems so well paved with answered prayer my faith needed another trial. Long ago, I decided God was never going to be finished with me. He would always have more lessons for me to learn and I had chosen to be his willing student.
One evening Carren and I were visiting with Chuck and the nurses let us stay a bit later than usual. Even though we were tired, we lingered in his room chatting up a story or two, like only women can do. The humor wagon was on a roll and we three were all on board. Chuck had plenty of medication on board after his surgery earlier that day and as they say was feeling no pain. As the evenings comedic narrative waned Chuck said he was feeling tired and had a bad headache. The nurse came in and reminded us of the time. Carren and I got the message and bid him good night and he asked the nurse for something for his headache. We walked back to our room at the Malone House and crawled into bed.
Not twenty minutes later the phone rang and we were instructed to get back over to the hospital, NOW! No information, just return quickly to Chuck’s room. Carren and I ran as fast as we could. Arriving on his ward we found they moved him to another ward where they packed him in ice, Chuck had spiked a fever of 1060.The boiling point of brains cells, which can cause permanent damage, coma, and delusions. Dreadful questions inundated our thoughts. We knew we would have to wait for information on his condition and what had caused the fever. The physicians needed time to find the right pieces to the puzzle of what had gone wrong with Chuck’s body.
Again, I prayed, “Please heal him and God what are you trying to teach me this time?” I did not grasp this turn of events, nevertheless, I knew well enough that I was NOT in charge of my sons healing, God was. The physicians were able to answer our questions within twenty-four hours. Chuck had brought home six different strains of bacteria when he was blasted into the canal in Iraq. I have always told him not to pick up strangers. Of course, he didn’t pick them up, they hitched a ride, and everything wants to go to America, go figure. Healing began as soon as the prescribed antibiotics were begun.
Now you might think God was reminding me, that he was in charge. At first, I thought so too. As I took more time to review the past few days in my mind, the lesson was God’s way of preparing me to be vigilant. God had recognized I had begun to shelter the events of the past few weeks in the thought, all was going great and would continue to progress in a positive nature. In a wink of an eye I was reminded how changes can take place and turn effectively into challenges. Healing was going to begin again for my son. I needed to be vigilant since the building blocks to healing could be new, long, short lived, redundant or exhausting. Nevertheless, healing would be building blocks and the keystone was Faith that God Will. I would have to be ready to support my son's recovery even when I knew it would cause him pain to begin again.
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