My Son's ER Visit, Sunday Night Gameplans, and Galatians

Last week, immediately following my son's first week back to physical activity (a.k.a. dek hockey game), he started with chest pain and a heart rate that could best be compared to...dub step.  Several hours after his game, he started to feel a little better.  Rather than take him to the hospital, primarily because he was feeling better, I decided to call the doctor first thing in the morning.

She didn't really have much to say except, "take him to the hospital if it happens again, unless you want me to order tests."

Kay?

This week, immediately following my son's second week back to physical activity (a.k.a. dek hockey game)...the same thing happened.  So I followed the doctor's orders and took him to the hospital.

:::Sidebar:::

We've been through so many years of doctor/hospital stuff, he and I.  We had a great conversation about that in the middle of the night as he waited to hear his test results and whether or not he'd be staying.  He really just wanted his bed, but he couldn't yet lay flat without discomfort.  He did say that the gurney was much more comfortable than he thought it would be and turned down offers of warmed blankets and refreshments.  He didn't want to trouble the nurse.

When I looked into his face, he was really just an overgrown version of the toddler who sat very still on each hospital gurney and doctors' table so many years ago.  His gaze fixed on...me.  Gauging whether or not I doubted the medical team, so he'd know if he should doubt them.  Gauging whether or not I looked scared, so he'd know if he should be scared.

Me? Scared?  Nah.  Because the only time I was scared for him was in 1999.  And that's when I found out that God was real.  Before then?  Nope, didn't believe that.

But...because I know that, and because I've told him that story and he knows that, and because we are surrounded by SO MANY friends who focus their prayers and kind thoughts on us, there's no reason to be afraid.

:::Sidebar finished:::

The end result of his hospital visit was...his EKG and xrays came back fine.  We're to follow up this week with doctors, because there is something going on.  They were just ruling out an emergent situation.

So it's Sunday night and I find myself sitting here, working on a game plan for this week.  Ya know, which 'son calls' should be made first over my lunch break.  Will I even bother with the ped, or go straight to old faithful Childrens Hospital.  I'm not one to play.  I think we all know what I'll be doing.  I'm looking over our checkbook.  Taking a peek in the pantry.  Asking the husband if we can make it another week without ordering heating oil.  I look over at my son, knowing how far the Lord has brought him, feeling a sense of absolute peace with whatever may come...and find him staring at his electronic device with a look of sadness on his face.  I ask him what's wrong and he says that his friend is going through a time of sadness, stress, and disappointment.  He explains ways that he just wants to fix it, but knows he can't.  He decides the best thing he can do is pray for his friend and ask God to comfort and bless them in this time of literal "ugh".

Amen.

Just as so many are doing for him...and he doesn't even know it.

We all battle something, right?  But?  We all have each other.  I thank God for that.

It doesn't mean things will be easy.  It doesn't mean they'll always go the way we want them to.  But it does mean that we can get through it, whatever "it" is.


Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2