A DAY IN THE HOSPITAL

                                                             A  DAY  IN  THE  HOSPITAL

Midnight 24 April 2014.

Like lightning flashes, yesterday’s hospitalization scenes light up one by one in my wide awake mind.

It is the strobe effect that freezes the highlight of the day to be the same scene in every frame. I see my spirit smile as the surgeon says, “I am going to make you sleep now.”  You can make me sleep; my Jesus is here. You can stick things all over my chest; my Jesus is here. You can stick needles in my veins; my Jesus is here! The foreign operating theatre surroundings disappear as I go somewhere no one knows. Total surrender; my Jesus is here.

My comedian-writer fb friend, Pine Pienaar and I shall make very good hospital fellow partners; while my double edged sword penetrates the repentance tears, Pines prescription of gags and laughter will bring joy and cheers.

 

For six hours I sat watching the brigade pass by in the day ward; every movement sounding like the formula one transport that will race me to my unfeminine destination clippings.

The next arrival burst through the door getting the whole ward transformed to comedy theatre and putting smiles on faces that did not match the somber green hospital gowns.  The tone in which he demanded that none of us peep behind his closed curtains left no uncertainty that he wanted us to do just that.  He wanted to know if any beers were served. Then when a bed was sent for his departure to theatre, he insisted he has feet that can walk him there. He did not trust the attendant’s driver’s license to be authentic.  Then the figure disappeared out of site with his bare feet; his hands clutching at the back of the hospital gown, leaving something for our imagination.

One bed away from me the young Muslim woman with the leave- me- alone ipad partner, threw her ipad on the bed and went in to a half kneeling position while studying its contents.  She never lifted her eyes so she could not get a smile or a hello. I dropped my eyes back to my little Bible. The old lady across from me kept her eyes on her newspaper. The ward sister read her patient’s files.

Much reading happened in the ward, newspapers, hospital files, the Quran and the Bible. The story of Elisha and the prophets of Baal came to mind. 1 Kings 18: 25-39 (³⁶ At the time of sacrifice, the prophet Elijah stepped forward and prayed: “Lord, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel, let it be known today that you are God in Israel and that I am your servant and have done all these things at your command. ³⁷ Answer me, LORD; answer me, so these people will know that you, Lord, are God, and that you are turning their hearts back again.”) 1 Corinthians 15:57 came to mind, “But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

While all these scenes were rolling along my movie eyes; I had every ‘God breathed’ human wrapped up in my Bible pages; with a dry tongue (Nil by mouth since the night before) securely licking and sticking the heavenly stamps.

The day the occupants all arrive in heaven in utter amazement at Gods goodness and mercy to them, God will show them the snapshot of this day and point to me saying, “See that one there? She is the old gray haired lady in the picture. She prayed Jesus for you. When my children pray fevering prayers, it happens.

HOT FLUSHES.  Never thought I would wish for a hot flash to bully me out of my comfort zone. The thing is, I was not in a comfort zone. I was freezing cold in the green back-to-front hospital gown that made me enter the toilet backwards in case any of my sagging attributes should think this is the 70’s and be exposed.

ALMOST IN THE OPERATING THEATRE

A  WARM  FEELING

“Are you cold or hot?” The official with the questions asked while I was waiting outside the operating theatre (Another long wait).

Am I hot or cold? Which was the correct answer?  What was the real question? She had just asked me my weight and what I had to eat the night before and

now I am hot or cold?

I said cold, as I did not feel hot where I was lying. At 65 I don’t think I can ever be regarded as being ‘hot’. So cold must be the right answer. 

It was the right answer! The nicest warmest thing happened. She brought me bedding that was miraculously warmed up as if out of the oven and tucked it in all around me. She also gave me extra blankets. God is good.

Then it happened; I got a hot flush.

 

So the results will be had on Friday. Doctor says it is a rough uterus with lots of unwelcome growths. He hopes they are the results of the hormone tablets taken over many years and not cancerous. We will wait for Friday. God never has to wait. He knows everything and He makes everything work out for our good. This life is only the beginning, just the foreplay. Soon the groom is coming to fetch His bride.

 

GRAFFITI

Graffiti on the wall. A no nonsense piglet standing there like Jesus with a no nonsense pose; telling me he is in control. Behind piglet was the whole Winnie the Poo crew wishing me a smiley day.

 

Another remember.

Yesterday in hospital I asked Jesus to stand next to my bed while I waited and waited. He stood there but did not talk.  I lay there and had only the same prayer request which I had before. We were both silent. I took out my little Bible and read John 5 about the lame man at the pool who could not be put in to the stirred water, so he remained disabled. I asked Jesus why he went to visit the pool? I asked Jesus why he healed that man and not any other.

A child started crying outside of the commune ward where I was. I asked Jesus if He would heal that child. I asked Jesus if He would heal the people in the ward and all the people I looked at in the entrance of the hospital that morning. To heal their soul, spirit and body. I asked that they would know and accept Him and they will know it is Jesus who healed them.

Jesus did not have to talk. All His talk is in His word. He is the word. He is God. He is Holy Spirit. Jesus is.

 

 

 

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