Monday, September 19, 2011

Hospitals Been Beddy Beddy Good to Me

I had just brought my oldest home from getting his appendix out.  As usual, the outcome was great. My quippy comment to a friend was, "Hospitals been beddy beddy good to us" (thank you vintage SNL memory)

Then I stopped...this was nothing to take lightly. 

Our hospital adventures have truly been good experiences, but they could just have as easily turned very bad. Case in point: While I was waiting for my boy to recover from surgery, a mere 10 feet away from me was a family waiting for an "end of life". The husband/father/grandfather had taken a turn for the worse, and the wife/grandmother was sitting with her daughter and son for the final word. 

The nurse came rushing in, "Come now. He just stopped breathing...this might be it".

And they rushed away.

...just like that...for them, it turned very bad.

That was the closest I have come to a bad hospital experience...and I have to ask myself: Why do we seem to always have good hospital adventures, while others have had bad

Even the fact we call them "adventures" points to the positive outcomes.

Why? Is it to teach me a "Right-place-at-the-right-time" life lesson?

When our first-born was born in distress (that's medical-talk for NOT BREATHING), he was revived and spent the night in the NICU. The next day, as he was nicely recovering, they discovered Group B Strep, which resulted in a full 2 week stay at "Hotel Mayo" (complete with $1925/hour baby care). Later they would tell us how lucky we were that he was born in distress...because it forced a longer stay...which let them discover the Group B Strep. It could have been very bad if it was not diagnosed so early. 

Why does it turn out well for us? Is it to teach me the "Thank God you live next to the best medical facility in the world" lesson?

When our twin girls were born, our li'l 4 pounder was put in a bun warmer her first day to keep her temp constant, then was diagnosed with a heart defect. After 2.5 months of not thriving she had open heart surgery (by a doctor who's done over 1000 of them). Now at 10, you'd never know...except a scar that I feel she wears as a "Don't MESS with me...I've already been through worse" attitude beacon.

Any possible answer comes up shallow...except, "I don't know, that's just how it turned out"...which is shallow.

Is it because I'm living such a righteous life? Hardly. I am a very poor example of living right.

Is it because of the awesome medical care? Definitely, but is that the only reason? I know the doctors are awesome, but I know they're NOT batting a thousand.

I know I'm supposed to say "It's because we've been very blessed", but I have a hard time with that answer. If I'm blessed with good, then does that mean someone else is cursed with bad? What about those that are better believers than me that have had to deal with the very bad? If they're cursed with bad, then it doesn't make sense at all that I'm blessed with good.

So I ask again, Why? Is it to teach me, "There are more important things in life than work" lesson?

When I was in Florida teaching at a conference for work...I got a call that the ultrasound docs wanted us to come in to discuss our yet-to-be-born 4th child. They saw something...a cyst, a something...and wanted a closer look. Oh, and they said that this raises the chances of a chromosomal defect (Downs Syndrome). After more tests, and knowing that regardless of the results we'd love him, we waited the last few months...and were introduced to a perfectly healthy, happy boy.

And now with my oldest, who was in the deep of Canada a few weeks before his appendix attack. That could have been very bad. But it wasn't. It was very good.

Why do we always have happy hospital visits?


...and what happens when a visit goes bad? 

...because at some point it will.

Is that the end of any residual of my happy persona? Am I strong enough to get through a bad visit?

I've heard all the sermons on "Why does God let bad things happen to me", but to be honest, they make it sound like I should look forward to bad things...that I should be more worried if nothing bad ever happens to me. Is God handling me with kid-gloves? Is my faith so fragile that Jesus doesn't dare allow a very bad? If so, I should write a book about it: "Fragile-ize Your Faith! The secret guide to long-lasting health of your loved ones".

Is it just dumb luck? That doesn't sound too Jesus-ly.

I don't really have a good answer. Just lots of questions. 



P.S. Throughout this writing, I've been tempted to knock on wood...or laminate...or any striped material. I guess that illustrates my see-through faith? I get this superstitious feeling that by even bringing this topic up, I risk backlash. Is that messed up or what?

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...