*This is the only picture (that I know of) that was taken in the hospital,
it is with my aunty Yasmine...but she is more than an aunty...she is my sister,
my mama, and my granny.
She came and rubbed my aching feet and just listened,
just like she always does.
So tonight I am reaching back a few weeks to fish out this story,
because it is worth remembering.
Take a good look at the above photo, narrow in on the tube going in my nose.
I just think of that tube and my nose starts to run and itch and irritate.
That was my second attempt at being a good patient and keeping in the feeding tube,
I pulled the first out, for obvious reasons, but my body couldn't handle food, and
so they put in another one...this time they tied it in my nasal, so I couldn't pull it out.
(*Actually just realized that this is my first tube.)
After so long, my nose started to bleed, and run and the mucus would pile like dew
drops on the bull ring they had placed between my nostril. So I walk to to the nurses
station and begged for some scissors. The nurse looks up through her reading glasses,
raises her eyebrow and asks me just what my plan is. Stupid me, I should of told
her I was making origami or something...but I can't lie.
I start begging, so she enlists the help of another nurse, I beg her too, I
was so desperate, I even pulled the transporter guy by the side and offered him
my mac lap top if he would take it out. I wasn't kidding either,
but he told me he liked his job and wanted to keep it.
Then they call Garrett and tell him I am being a bit unruly. When he came,
I sighed relief and felt rescued...only to have him hold me at bay and tell
me that I had to keep it in...remember your fight? It seems dramatic to
admit, but it felt like my best friend had turned on me in a school yard fight.
like I was laying on the cement with no advocate. Just a gang of kids
hoovering over me taunting me with the fact that I was to sick to have a
voice of my own.
You have to think of your kids...you can do this...you just need to train your
mind to stop thinking about it...watch t.v....why don't we just give you a Valium
so you can sleep this off.....or my personal favorite...what are you thinking?
It was tough love. And now I understand a much harder night for Garrett
than myself. But the lesson I learned was that I needed a much higher advocate.
I needed my Savior, to either take this cup from me, or plead my case.
But to put a long story short.
I went in the bathroom and knelt right there on my knees and begged Heavenly Father to help me, I was looking at my
robe as I was kneeling, and there was a safety pin right there, pinned to my robe.
I took that as a love note from God, and went to work picking it out...and I tell you
never have I felt so much relief...I wanted to shout hallelujah, but called the nurse instead.
Bless her heart...I think she was as relieved for me as I was.
But as you can imagine, there was a consequence, I had to answer to my family, the
family that has cared for me blood, sweat and tears, I had to tell them I couldn't hack it.
And that tugged at my heart...all through out the next day. Raw awful guilt sat in my
stomach like nausea. If only I was stronger.
Because I had no way other way to get nutrition, the next step was to put in an
i.v pick line for T.P.N feedings. Within in minutes of their "training" me about
this little pump...(so many things can go wrong),
I realized that I may have just let my family down more than I thought.
With those thoughts racing in my head, I got up to take a walk and tripped over the
tubes tangled around my legs, and for some reason blood backed up and started
dripping on the cold white floor before me, and around my "sterile" environment.
I pulled the nurse cord, and apparently my reputation had preceded me, because the
first thing she asked me was....Are you trying to pull this out too?
All I could do was cry. At this point anxiety got the best of me and the way she
quickly snapped everything back together made me nervous, So I kindly asked her,
Can I help you clean the tubes with alcohol? She glared at me, not because
she was mean, because she was human, and in her eyes I saw weariness. I wanted
to know her story. But I also wanted my feeding tube sterilized.
Now for the reason I tell you this story. Right then at that moment, on my wet pillow,
I asked God for a tender mercy. And within minutes, My sweet friends Amanda and Kirk
walked in the room. You see...no one else could have comforted me that night because Kirk
is a nurse anesthetist, so by profession, he was the only one that could
have reassured me that my lines were clean.
Did I mention this took place around 11:00 p.m?
With his usual humor he told me a little birdie told him I need to get out of my room.
So after he checked my lines, Amanda got a wheel chair and They promised to push me
around until he got tazered by the night security. We went to watch the puffer fish in the
outpatient waiting room, and talked and laughed until I couldn't hold my head up.
I am not sure if my good friends realized this, but they were
on the Lord's errand that night,
Just as SO many others have been there for me at just the right moment.
And that is the reason I want to keep a record of this time...
because I never want to forget how my father in heaven
loved me through each of you.