Posted by: Michelle Knoll | March 21, 2013

A Tale of Two Kings – The Day of Dark and Light

A ray of hope shot through the girl’s heart.  The surgeon just said “piece of cake,” right?  The girl felt her heart release some of the stress of the battle.  Okay, if the surgeon thinks it’s going to go easily, then there’s really no reason to worry, right?  So maybe her battle was just so they would get this far?  And now perhaps it would all be over?  Though she wasn’t sure she could release all of the defense she had built up during this battle of faith, the girl felt she could at least trust this surgeon who spoke with such confidence.  He was an expert at this.  Open heart surgeries on children were his life’s work.  So if he thought it was going to be a breeze, then who was she to question his integrity? The morning of the surgery came, and the girl’s husband carried the little king into the operating room.  It was a tearful moment, saying goodbye.  But soon they were seated in the waiting room, and set their minds to the task of remaining at peace.  Lock out the fear, lock out the negative, focus on what the surgeon said.  “Piece of cake.”  Yes, piece of cake.  Yes.  Peace.

The liaison from the operating room came each hour on the hour.

“They have your son on the heart/lung machine.”

Okay.  The girl and her husband clasped hands and smiled at each other.  Step One completed.

Another hour passed.  The liaison reappeared.

“They have your son’s heart stopped, and they’re opening it now.  They had to cut through his sternum.  They’ll put twist ties in it to pull it back together when they’re finished.”

Thanking the liaison, Ellen Hart, they commented to each other on how pleasant she was, how her name was so appropriate for the job she did.  They also smiled at the thought of twist ties in the little king’s body.  Step Two was complete.

Another hour passed.  The liaison reappeared.

“They’ve patched the hole.  Now they’ll restart your son’s heart.  Once that’s accomplished, they’ll close him up.”

Okay.  The girl and her husband sighed with relief.  The hole was closed.  The deed was done.  All would be well.  The girl smiled at her husband, and then fussed inwardly at herself.  Maybe she had been so wrapped up in fear, she couldn’t see God.  Maybe He had been parting the sea all along?  Hmm.

The liaison was late for the next update.  The husband glanced at his watched, and frowned.  Time seemed to pass very slowly.

Finally she arrived.

“They had some trouble restarting your son’s heart.  But they finally have it restarted now.  It was touch and go for a while.”

With broad smiles, they thanked Ellen Hart for the news.  The girl did not miss the startled look on the liaison’s face as she backed away and left the room.  But the king’s heart was restarted!  He was almost out of surgery!  Wasn’t that enough to be happy about?  The battle was over!

In another hour, the liaison returned for the last time.

“He’s in recovery now.  Let them get him settled, and then you can go in and see him.  But only two at a time.”

The girl and her husband, the grandparents, and even some others in the waiting room, all stood and spoke their relief.  They were given final instructions from the liaison on how to alert the PICU staff once they returned to the hospital.  Then the joyous group left for dinner.

When they returned, all was not joyous.  The girl and her husband called back to PICU to inform the staff they were there to see their son.  They were quickly escorted back to the little king’s bed, only to see six PICU nurses fussing over their son.

“Your son is the most medicine tolerant kid I’ve ever seen!”

“What!? No he’s not!  He can’t even take cough medicine without it making him groggy!”

In horror, the girl watched her son, the king, as he arched his tiny infant body in pain.  IV’s were running everywhere, and that’s where the nurses began looking for trouble. The problem was finally found, and solved quickly.  The IV pump controlling the pain medication had crimped the IV tube, so no medicine was getting to the little king’s body.  He was in excruciating pain from the surgery.

The girl eyed the nurses with suspicion.  How could they not have known where the problem was?  Had they not even looked at the IV pump for the pain medication?  However, not wanting to create discord in the room, she held her breath and kept her thoughts deep inside.  She glanced at her husband, the little king’s dad, and noticed the troubled look on his face.  He was a patient man, but his patience ran only so far when someone was mistreating his son.

Soon the little king was sleeping peacefully, his body puffy and pink with color from the surgery.  The girl and her husband, and their parents, left PICU.  Left the little king lying in the hospital bed, with 9 IV’s hooked into his body.

The next conversation with the surgeon would reveal more than the girl was ready to hear.  But she was in the middle of her Red Sea, and there was no where to go but forward.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: