Memories and Mayhem

Two years ago today, I received the call. "Mrs. W, this is Detective Jones with the Winchester Police Department." I knew instantly. The detective didn't even have to say the words. I just started wailing. Mr. W was in Winchester to attend a special outpatient physical therapy program for folks with his specific medical problems. He had been staying at a local hotel for the six-week program. The hotel staff saw him on Sunday; Monday morning they found him, gone, presumably from a heart rhythm problem.

Two days ago, I took my seventeen-year-old daughter to the doctor for a sinus infection. They found a potentially dangerous heart rhythm problem. So in addition to the cement in her sinuses and the pain of her father's death anniversary this week, she was suddenly swept up in a frenzy of tests and dour-looking adults all around her. Of all times for this to happen - it put me in a "when it rains, it pours" frame of mind. You can cut out a few organs on me while I watch, and I'm fine. But when my child is in great pain . . . it's a completely different story.

"Next Thursday (as in the 26th) is the earliest we can get her in with the cardiologist. She needs to stay quiet, no sports until she is seen." Are you kidding me? Ten days away? But God had another plan. Once the doctors cut my girl loose to "take it easy and wait", she headed straight to school. At this age, Mom is essential but not primary in the commiseration process. She needed to see her peeps.

She went to class, her biology course with Mr. C, a "Mr Chips" sort of teacher who has always taken a special interest in my girl. When she went on meltdown, he pulled her out of class and got the story. He called his wife. He called me and said to call his wife. The upshot of those calls was that my girl and I were sitting in the office of Dr. T, a premiere cardiologist at 8:30 the next morning. Dr. T was doing her residency training eighteen years ago when a certain pregnant nurse took the frightened resident under her wing in the intensive care unit. Now Dr. T is known nationally, her office nurse is married to a certain "Mr. Chips" sort of teacher at my daughter's school and the once pregnant nurse is on the receiving end of needing care for her child. Dr. T was not supposed to see patients at all that morning. She came in just to see my girl.

As this cardiologist soothed and explained everything to my daughter, I felt a heavy load fall from my shoulders. This was going to be manageable. More tests would be needed, perhaps medication, worst case scenario a medical procedure to calm her twitchy heart. But everything was going to be alright. Another storm would be weathered.

This lead me to my new thoughts on "when it rains, it pours". What began as a week of, "I can't believe all of this is happening right now" became one of "I can't believe how thoroughly God has provided for our every need this week." Our hearts still hurt tonight for Mr. W. There is more to do to protect my girl's health. We are all exhausted. But we are safe; we are well cared for. We are happy to think of God's provision - to know with all certainty that when it rains, it pours.

May you feel His grace today,
Gail W.

The last Word:
Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today."
Exodus 14:13, NIV.