Category: Getting to Know You
Before I start, I want to share something about my Christian faith with all of you here. I know some people have a favorite Bible verse that gets them through difficult times. I have one of those too, but what really gets me through is a poem. It’s called Footprints in the Sand. There is also a song that goes with it, which I recommend to everyone. Another song that really helps me and is one I listen to very often is called “His Strength is perfect” by Stephen Curtis Chapman. I’ve relied on this particular song way before I learned they had made one for “Footprints in the Sand.” “His Strength is perfect” has gotten me through some very difficult times.
I hope everyone out there is prepared for a rividding tale because once I start, I can’t stop. There is no turning back. I’m not sugar coating anything, so be forewarned…
I was ten-years-old when it happened. I had just lost my great grandfather to cancer a few months before my own battle began.
My Dad and I had just gotten back from the Franklin Institute when my head started hurting. The funny thing was, it was only hurting on the right side. At first we thought it was just a pre-teen migraine due to getting my period for the first time. As it turned out, I wouldn’t get my period for another three years.
It wasn’t long before the pain worsened and I started throwing up. My Dad took me to the doctor around one in the morning two days after everything had started.
As we soon found out, this doctor didn’t know what he was doing. He suggested we go down to my regular eye specialist, so we did. I survived the hour and a half drive by the Father’s hand.
When we arrived in town, we went right to the hospital and my eye doctor saw me right away. He explained to me and my Dad and then again to both of my parents that my right eye would have to be removed due to pressure building up. I was shocked. I knew there was a chance I would lose the vision in said eye, but I never thought I would lose the actual eye itself.
After the doctor’s announcement, things started to pick up. He admitted me to the hospital and booked an OR for eight the next morning. By this point, I’m dangerously dehydrated and all I want is water. I was thirsty beyond words, but I was forbidden to drink anything. Feeling bad for me, Dad gave me a sip or two of water. I was already almost guaranteed to be sick after surgery, so there was no harm in it.
The next morning, things started happening much quicker than I thought possible. I was woken up around seven, only to be told the surgery had been pushed back to nine. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, so it didn’t’ matter. All I wanted besides more water was to sleep. I also wanted the pain and nausea to stop.
By this time, I was emotionally spent. At this point, I felt like I was watching everything happening.
I tried to block out the noises of the hospital out of my mind. This was hard considering people were yelling, machines were going off as well as announcements being made over the loudspeaker. By some miracle, I managed to block most if not all of the sounds from my mind.
Only one person could go back to pre-op with me. Without any hesitation, I picked my Dad.
I held my breath as we entered the pre-op area. I could smell the anesthesia, even though the closest OR was all the way down the hall.
The smell wasn’t doing anything to help the sick feeling in my stomach.
When it was time for me to go into the OR, I asked the nurse if I could have one more minute with my Dad. Fortunately, she was kind and gave us three minutes. We prayed together and I held on tighter to my Dad’s hand than I had in a very long time. He walked down to the OR doors with me. After that I was alone.
I didn’t even fight when the nurse from earlier moved to put the mask over my face. I hated the mask more than any other part of surgery. I guess in light of this being an emergency, they forgot. After whispering a final prayer that the nurse mistook for me counting backwards, I was out. Finally, I could sleep peacefully. And I did for the next three hours.
All too soon I was awoken again by a sharp pain. It wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier, but it still hurt. I struggled with my body, not wanting to wake up just yet. I didn’t’ want to feel the pain again. As I awoke, a nurse made sure I was conscious and gave me some water. She assured me I would see my parents soon, but I didn’t’ care about that. I just wanted her to leave me alone so I could sleep again. I just wanted to be left alone.
Looking back on it now, I feel really bad for what I did next. Even though at the time I didn’t care.
“Sweetheart, do you want some more water?” She asked me kindly.
Feeling frustrated that she wasn’t getting it, I turned my head in the direction her voice was coming from and snapped, “No! I want to be left alone!” When I didn’t hear her move, I added a soft please that sounded cracked to my own ears.
Pent up emotions were just below the surface and if this woman wasn’t careful, she was going to get my tidal wave of them. She finally got the point and left.
Once she was gone, I listened to make sure nobody was nearby before I started to pray quietly. I let a few tears fall before I forced myself to stop crying. I didn’t want anyone to hear me and come over to see if I was okay.
Frankly, I was tired of crying, tired of being in pain, tired of it all. I just wanted out.
“Please, Father,” I prayed quietly, “please. I want to come home. I can’t do this anymore. Please just bring me home to Heaven. Please!”
As I lay there, I suddenly heard a voice in my mind as though it was only meant for me.
“No, my child. You still have work to do for me. I haven’t left you. When you can’t take another step, I will carry you just as I’ve always done. Trust me.”
I tried my best even though I was still hurting both emotionally and physically.
The next time I awoke, my Ohana was around me-well some of them anyway. My Dad and Liz were there, along with my Aunt Nixa and a few other people.
I responded to my Dad’s voice first, totally ignoring everyone else. I was still emotionally drained. Despite this, I managed to drink some water before promptly throwing up a few minutes later. I was still craving sleep in the worst way. I was craving it like a drowning person craves oxygen.
Fortunately, my Dad got the point. He suggested that my aunt go to get coffee and Liz go to check on something with the doctor. It took me awhile before I was finally able to sleep again.
I woke up in pain a few hours later and the doctor gave me some medicine.
The next morning, I awoke to find a doctor standing by my bedside, shining a light in my eyes. I had a feeling it was still early, which didn’t thrill me.
A nurse who was with him explained they had to clean the area so it didn’t get infected.
“Why?” I asked, still emotionless. “There’s nothing there anymore.”
For some reason, this made Liz cry. I didn’t pay attention to her. I wasn’t in the mood for her acting like the mother she should have been.
When I returned to Liz’s house for the duration of my recovery at least for the first week, I had a lot of visitors. The only one I really paid attention to was Colleen. She was the only one treating me normally. Everyone else was treating me like I was a piece of fragile glass.
Colleen had gotten me to smile and even laugh a little bit. We were listening to “Heal the World” and just talking quietly together. She was sitting next to me on the couch, wanting to make sure I was okay. She was determined not to leave my side until she absolutely had to. She didn’t end up leaving till eleven o’ clock that night.
In the middle of our convo, Liz told me that she was going to clean my eye out. She told me to try and open it the best I could.
After Liz went upstairs to get the stuff, I
Sorry about that! Here's the rest!
In the middle of our convo, Liz told me that she was going to clean my eye out. She told me to try and open it the best I could.
After Liz went upstairs to get the stuff, I sighed and winced in pain. I didn’t know if I could do this, but Colleen had other ideas. She gave me an encouraging smile and took my hand in hers.
“Come on, Lauren,” she coaxed, “you can do it. I know you can. Just try once. You can do it. It’s okay. Try for me, please? I know you can do it.”
In that instant, I felt like I could do anything. I’m not kidding. Colleen not only gave me the confidence to do the impossible, she also gave me the faith to keep going when things got too hard.
I took a deep breath and prepared to do what Colleen believed so wholeheartedly that I could. I tried opening my right eye. My left eye had been examined as well, so it was also hurting. But it wasn’t hurting as much as my right one was.
“That’s it,” Colleen coaxed gently, but encouragingly. “That’s it. Just a little more. That’s it. Good job! You did it! You did it! See? I told you you could do it!”
In that split second both my eyes were open, I could see Colleen smiling at me. Her grin was brighter than a thousand lights from Heaven. It was in that split second that I knew the Father had brought us together and our bond of friendship went beyond the regular bond two friends shared. It was stronger and we had something special. It was more than a bond of friendship. It was one of sistership and I was grateful for it.
In the days following the surgery, I wasn’t up for doing much of anything. It wasn’t until I got my permanent glass eye did I start to bounce back a little.
When I had my temporary eye, people would stare at me and ask questions I didn’t want to answer.
I remember during my first eye appointment after the surgery, the nurse on staff asked if she could touch my temporary glass eye. That was the only time I ever remember my Dad losing his temper with a medical professional.
Slowly but surely, I started to heal with the help of Colleen and my Dad and other Ohana members as well as God’s help. It was a hard road, but I wasn’t traveling down it alone, which was the important thing.
God has carried me through so many difficult times as well as brought me full circle again whenever I’ve lost my way. I still remember what He said to me when I was in the hospital and it helped me to put my full trust in Him when I felt I couldn’t trust anyone else .
I can conquer my own waves and come out on top. I believe that’s the same for everyone else. As long as you have faith and trust God, you’ll never fall.
that's true. lauren. i beleave that all the way:
Awesome! Do you wanna talk on skype?
I have to say I really admire your faith in God, don't ever let it go.
That means a lot. And I won't, trust me.