Hope’s asthma landed us in the hospital for two and a half days.
When we got to the ER on Saturday, her blood oxygen level was dangerously low, and her heart rate was very fast. She was put on steroids and received “intensive breathing treatments” every two hours.
Hope was her same Hope-ful self, even at her worst, dazzling the hospital staff. And once she was feeling better, the girl pretty much had a blast. She had the nurses on the floor wrapped around her finger. She would ask to have her temperature taken. She was given a stethoscope, and she checked everyone else’s lungs many, many times a day. She giggled through her nebulizer treatments and politely demanded that her Dora doll receive breathing treatments as well. She always said thank you. She could not eat a single bit of hospital food (except an apple) because she was allergic to everything on the menu (but that’s o.k. because the food was really bad). She always said ‘Hello Doctor’ to the custodian, who always muttered back, ‘I wish.’ She kept us laughing the entire weekend. I loved her even more.
It was a family affair at the hospital with visits from grandparents, aunts and cousins, and even Hope’s friend Olivia came to play with her.
Rhema did very well. She thought she was in the hospital, and stayed in the bed almost the whole time. In fact, anytime we go to the hospital, Rhema thinks she is staying there. We went to visit my father in the hospital last month, and Rhema climbed in his bed and made herself comfortable. (My father was sitting in a chair). We were certain she was waiting for a technician to come and put EEG leads on her head!
The first night in the hospital, when doctors and nurses were fussing over Hope, I had one brief moment of panic. I knew that she was in goods hands… and in God’s hands. I knew that family and friends were praying for us. As if on cue, I received a text from my friend Lianna:
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak. Isaiah 40:29
And an e-mail from my best friend/college roommate Cha:
Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter,
you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
you will again bring me up.
You will increase my honor
and comfort me once again.
I will praise you with the harp
for your faithfulness, O my God;
I will sing praise to you with the lyre,
O Holy One of .
My lips will shout for joy
when I sing praise to you—
I, whom you have redeemed… Ps. 71:20-24
Cha also sent me a card with some new “A” words:
It’s good to be home. Home with my precious family, all doing well.