After our friends came and graciously took our kids, Mike and I sped to the hospital where I met my dad and my aunt. The outlook was grim. My mom had MRSA, a resistant form of staph. She was septic and unresponsive. The tears flowed freely. My heart was breaking. My mom had taken a turn for the worse and it had taken us all by surprise.
Soon her nurse came out and said that my mom spiked a fever of 105 degrees. They had given her tylenol and placed cold wash cloths all over her to bring it down. She made no mistake that things were critical and that we should call in family. More tears. More praying. More hugging.
Family and friends arrived and we filled up a waiting room. Food was provided and we ate. And we waited. And we talked. And we waited. And we prayed. And finally the nurse came in and said her fever was coming down. It was 103.2. Then it was 101.7. We could suit up in gowns and gloves and go in to see her.
It was so difficult to see her like she was today. Feverish. Unresponsive. But I stroked her arms and her head and told her how much I loved her. I prayed for her. And I told her how much the girls and Lucas love her. It was a difficult time.
I am home now, and mom is resting. Her body is fighting so hard to get rid of this serious infection. My eyes are bloodshot from all the tears today, but I am thankful that she is still here. I wasn't sure that she would still be with us after this morning's rough start. Tomorrow I will go back to the hospital after a good night's sleep. And I will continue to pray and wait and tell my mom how much I love her.
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and he saves those who are crushed in spirit."