We’ve all had days of trouble, where our circumstances seem to be whispering in our ear, “Where is your good God? Where is this healer you pray to?” We were in our 58th day of trouble by now. Every time we saw a victory of any kind, chaos was waiting around the corner. Things had smoothed out a little and the next day was a good one for Becky. She was feeling rested and seemed to have a clearer mind. It was Friday, September 11th. Due to the restrictions still being in place, I was not allowed to visit her again. I wondered how long it would be before I could visit her on a daily basis.
That evening, there was a conference going on at our church and I went to it. Being in that atmosphere of worshipping together with others is like medicine to a weary soul. Our church family was still reeling from the passing of Micah Traylor just a few weeks earlier, a six year old boy who had battled cancer for a year and a half. I’ve known his entire family for over 21 years. It was painful to tell Becky about it. We had prayed fervently for his healing and she had shed many tears in the process. Also, in March, I had personally lost a co-worker friend of mine I had known for 15 years due to a stroke, and in April a cousin. She was just a few months older than me.
About 45 minutes into our worship time, I received a text from Tammy: “Please pray for Rick. The boys are taking him to the emergency room. He can’t breathe.” I quickly shifted from worship and adoration to intercession. A little while later, my son, Brian, who was sitting next to me, showed me a message he had just received from Colton, one of Rick and Tammy’s sons, that Rick had gone to be with the Lord. “What!?,” I silently mouthed to him. In shock and disbelief, we both got up and walked out into the foyer. We stood there dumbfounded.
Soon, a couple of others who were concerned about us joined us and we all stood there in shock. All I can remember anyone saying was, “what is going on”? I felt like death was mocking us with those same words again, “Where is your good God? Where is this healer you pray to?” I thought of Tammy and their entire family and what they must have been going through. “How could I tell Becky?” I thought. After all, her and Tammy were best friends. I knew I couldn’t tell her right away and didn’t until about a week later. I know that she wanted so bad to be able to be there to comfort Tammy but couldn’t. It was heartbreaking, to say the least. Later that evening at the conference, a word came forth from Marty Gabler declaring, “Becky is coming home!” As a church body we began to declare it on a regular basis.
By this time, Becky had tested negative for COVID-19 but officially there were still no visitors permitted. The next day was fairly uneventful as far as Becky was concerned, but things were about to change again when Sunday rolled around. Instead of attending church that morning I decided to go to the Ruckers’ home and be with them. My son, Nathan, had told me that their entire family was gathering and he was going over there to be with them. My heart was broken for that family and I knew I had to be with them.
While I was there, my phone rang around 11:45 AM. It was the floor supervisor informing me that they were going to have to transfer Becky back to Methodist. She was progressively getting more agitated and confused, mainly due to the severe urinary tract infection. I asked him if there was any way I could come down there and be with her before they moved her, knowing that once she was back at Methodist it would be impossible due to their strict no visitor policy. He said, “sure, come on down”. I got there as fast as I could.
When I walked into her room I immediately noticed that they had restrained her hands to the bed because she had become so delirious and agitated that she tried to pull her oxygen tubes out of her nose.
Her sweet nurse gave me some gloves to wear so I could hold her hand. I was appreciative of her kindness but I had already made up my mind to hold her hand, gloves or not. They had her sedated, which kept her from talking much but the most important thing was just being able to be with her, loving on her, praying, and comforting her. I spent almost five hours with her before the ambulance arrived to transport her back to Methodist. I followed her all the way out to the ambulance and watched as they drove off. I wondered how long it would be until I could see her again.
The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble, and He knows those who trust in Him. (Nahum 1:7)
“The Lord is good” had become a stronghold in my mind and it helped me to stave off fear and discouragement on my drive home that night. The battle wasn’t going away, but the fear was. When I arrived home I called the hospital to check on her .Her nurse told me the transfer had been smooth and Becky was resting. Then, I couldn’t believe my ears when she asked me,
“Will you be coming to visit her tomorrow?”
“Excuse me?”
“Will you be coming here tomorrow?”
“You mean, I can do that?”
“Sure, one designated visitor is allowed per patient.”
“How long can I stay?”
“You can stay all day, as long as you’re out of here by 9 PM.”
I was thrilled that I would finally get to be with her every day, but it was tempered by the fact that the rest of our family, especially our sons, would not be able to visit her. It had been almost two months since they had seen her, other than facetime. Modern technology is great but it is a poor replacement for actually being there. The next couple of days were rough, as the raging urinary tract infection had caused some delirium to come over her, which is sometimes a side effect. They were pumping a heavy dose of antibiotics into her and by the third day she had improved. She was still on a high dosage of oxygen however, as her breathing had not improved.
Now that the infection was starting to clear up, it seemed to lift her spirits that I was there with her now. I could speak with all the doctors and even help the nurses from time to time. On the fourth day Physical Therapy decided it was time to work towards getting her up and out of bed to at least be able to sit in a chair and then eventually to walk some. The goal was to be able to move her back to the LTAC facility for long term rehab and then eventually to go home. This gave me some extra hope. I had even read some stories of people who had been hospitalized longer than her and even on ventilators who had made miraculous turnarounds.
Physical therapy came every day and at least different times were able to get her sitting on the side of the bed with support. Each time they tried to get her to stand up, her oxygen saturation level would drop drastically, she would panic, and then the session would be over. I tried to be the best cheerleader possible and pushed her to try as hard as she could but she couldn’t get any further. Over the next few days, some of her numbers began to look a little better and the decision was made to move her back to Cornerstone (LTAC). I was able to spend eleven days by her side. Most days I was there at least 11 hours. Now she was back at the LTAC and their visitor policy had changed some too, but it was a little more restrictive, only allowing me to come every other day for a couple hours at a time. I didn’t like it but it was better than nothing at all. She had been hospitalized for 72 days but I still believed that someway, somehow, she was going to get through all of this and eventually come back home. She was a fighter and an overcomer. It had been said of her by several of our friends that she was like a cat with nine lives.
The Apostle Paul spoke of a “peace that passes all understanding”. I experienced that practically every day. I can’t tell you how, except to say that I began every day by simply putting my trust in the One whose mercy endures forever. Goodness and mercy followed me into that hospital every single time. I experienced the goodness of God in the midst of things that were not good. I understood that my trust had to be in Christ more than it was in any particular outcome. I had to trust the assurance that He, The Word made flesh, dwelt in me and with me. Like everyone else, I had questions that I wanted answers to. More importantly though, I knew at the end of every day that the Answer had me.
To be continued….