The other side of healthcare

Today I am in a hospital bed. Three weeks from today I will be on a plane to Bolivia for another medical mission trip. To say this week has been filled with some anxiety is an understatement.

About a month ago I started having some consistent abdominal pain that would be coupled with nausea and vomiting. Nurses are stereotyped as being the worst patients. I hold to that stereotype well. I put it off and put it off and put it off. Until last week I had had enough. Saw my PCP, got some meds that did not help whatsoever, and by Monday was hospitalized. Abdominal pain is just about the worst chief complaint out there. It's SO vague. There's about 57547956293 different possibilities of what could be going on. So that's what this last week has been. Test after test. Poke after poke. Even a night in ICU when I had an anesthesia-gone-wrong episode. It's been a hell of a week. But the Lord has been sweet.

I have learned a lot about being a nurse. There's a huge difference in the nurse that checks on me every hour, even when I don't need anything, and the one who I only see when I call. The one I never see may be smarter and/or more experienced, but the one who walks in with a smile regularly is my favorite- she's the kind of nurse I want to be. ALWAYS.

Then there's been the overwhelming outpouring of love and support from friends, school faculty, family, and coworkers. I can't go a few minutes without my phone going off from one of the above individuals, wondering how I'm doing, and every time it's sweet reminder of God's love. He has showered me with love this week. My room is filled with balloons, flowers, and teddy bears. I don't deserve any of it. But it's been so sweet to see how faithful the Lord is in how He uses those around us to care for us. So again to each of you that have reached out in any way whatsoever- THANK YOU.

But regardless of how positive or upbeat I sound, there have been some serious moments of weakness this week. When I woke up in ICU, I was not happy. When my IV got changed for the SIXTH time, I was not happy. When lab has had to come in and poke me at least 3 times each day, I was not happy. I could continue, but I'll spare you. Last night a sweet friend of mine, Rebecca came. I was so glad she did. Last night was the hardest night I've had. She asked me with the most sincere voice, "What can I do for you, Elizabeth?" I pondered for a moment and realized I really wanted my Bible. I gave her terrible directions down to the staff lot, where she wondered around, and returned with my Bible from my car. Oh, I was so thankful.

This morning the hospitalist (the doctor in charge of your overall care while in the hospital) came by to say that he really still isn't sure what's going on. I was so upset. A week in the hospital. I have missed class, clinical, called into work downstairs in the ER twice- and you don't know what's going on?!?! I didn't respond well. I am currently waiting for the GI doc to round. We have one probable diagnosis at hand. But nothing with solid ground to stand on.

In that moment I turned to my Bible that was sitting next to me. I needed some time with Jesus. I have been reading the book of Acts slowly over the last few months. If you haven't read it, I highly suggest it. To read all that Paul went through just to proclaim the name of Jesus is unbelievable. The book ends with, "He lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him, proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance."-- That hit me. Hard. He lived in a place that hated everything about him, but he didn't care. And not only did he not care, he still shared the gospel with all boldness and without hindrance. I stopped right there and asked Jesus to realign my heart. This week has not been about me. A potential diagnosis or going home with or without answers is not about me. It's about Him and His Kingdom. No matter what my day brings- be it a typical day at home or a miserable day in the hospital, if His name is proclaimed it's a day to be praised. Oh, how I pray that I look at each day with an eternal perspective and not one that revolves around my own wants and comforts.

I am praying with everything in me that I get discharged today. But if I don't, it's okay. Please be praying for my roommate, Lexi, and I as we hunker down these next couple weeks preparing for this trip to Bolivia. Pray that no matter what is placed before us, that we share the gospel with all boldness and without hindrance. Thank you thank you thank you for the prayers this week. It's been a long one. But a week of being forced to be still probably wasn't a bad thing for me at all.