Close Call

Ok, it's been awhile, so I can talk about it with a clearer head. My wife ended up in the hospital emergency room taken there by ambulance. What a scary, scary, experience!

Back in December, she fell and hit the back of her head. This required nine stitches. Unknown to me until recently, she hadn't felt entirely herself since. A few weeks back, she broke one of her teeth on the same side of her head as the injury.

Having a "routine" root canal done, my wife returned home in much pain and a swollen jaw. Following the dentist's orders, she kept pain medicine in her, waiting for things to get better. They didn't. Instead, there was dizziness, loss of concentration, and more. She admitted to me that she hadn't felt like herself since December.

Sitting in a local cafe the next day, I received a call from the school where my wife works. I needed to pick her up because she was shaky, having a difficult time walking and didn't look good. I needed to take her to the doctor. Grabbed my stuff, ran out the door and began the 15 minute drive to her school.

When I arrived, out in front of the school stood a fire truck and ambulance. As I ran inside, there stood a group of teachers waiting to rapidly escort me into the nurse's station. Turning the corner, a group of six or seven emergency technicians were hovering over my wife, trying to help her. She needed to be taken by ambulance to the hospital on the other side of town- and immediately.

Not letting me ride with her, I had to drive on my own. My time was spent alternately praying and calling our children and friends to notify them of the situation and to ask for prayer. Of course, the tragedy of Natasha Richardson came to mind.

After getting an IV put in, the doctor ordered a brain scan. Thankfully, no bruising, swelling or bleeding. But the docs were worried about sepsis and for good reason as the infection traveled quickly throughout her body, from her jaw to her ear. They worried about it traveling down to her heart. Heavy antibiotics and pain killers were the next course of action. She was finally released, and we headed home.

Three weeks later and still recovering. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for hearing my prayers and sparing my wife. It could been a different diagnosis, and it could have ended differently.