Hives

A month ago tomorrow, Jim and I were anticipating our second week of vacation in our favorite spot in the world...Maine.  We were staying in a wonderful house on a secluded lot, yet we were close enough to the coves and the beach and the lighthouse.  The house was tastefully furnished with colorful, interesting Americana objects that made it a warm, delightful retreat from the world.

Sadly, though, I could feel that what was suppose to be a refreshing, renewal was descending into fatigue and illness.  I was sleeping non-stop and I was nauseous and couldn't imagine myself getting up to participate in any of our planned activities.  What was happening? 

Jim sensed what was wrong and he jumped into action taking all the steps we had been trained to do when we suspected that infection was taking hold.  Early in the morning he came in with a long face and said, "Steph, get up, sweetheart, we have to go to the hospital." 

We drove down the peninsula to the nearest hospital.  They told us to come in so they could get me started on the care I needed but I was also told I  would have to be transferred to another, larger hospital with a nephrology department.  Our heads were spinning and though the staff was extremely kind, we were frightened.  They were reacting in a way that said, "this situation is very serious!"

The next thing I knew, I was strapped into an ambulance accompanied by a very reassuring paramedic who chatted the hour and a half ride away.  (The most eventful thing that happened on the ride was when the ambulance driver said, "Look out the window."  Evidently a motorcycle driver in full Santa garb was following us!--wish I could have seen it.) 

Things bustled along once I got to the new facility and I was given a room in the CCU--Critical Care Unit.  A doctor came in to explain what the next treatment steps would be.  I heard him say that I would be getting daily doses of intravenous antibiotic and was I allergic to anything.  I told them, "I am allergic to penicillin."  There was a brief silence and then the doctor said, "Well, one of the antibiotics we have to give you is a distant relative to penicillin but there should be no problem."  I remember thinking, "you don't know my body, and I don't feel good about this but I guess I better do what they say so I can get well."

So the long and the short of this story is, I didn't speak up and ask for other options and the treatments began.  Every day I was hooked up for a half hour or hour of an intravenous drip and each day I became increasingly ill.  I vomited and I had chills and my body cried out for relief from all these foreign chemicals. 

The treatments didn't stop when we were finally able to travel back to our home in Connecticut.  Weekly I received more of the  powerful antibiotic (the "bazooka," they called it) and then it happened!  I woke up one night covered in hives....burning, itching, my skin stretched until I thought it would pop.  Nothing seemed to bring relief.  The doctor and nurses said, "it should be gone in a few days but I wondered if I would still be in my right mind when the relief arrived.  Once again they did not know my body and it's been over two weeks of hives which have not dissipated.  I feel trapped!  What I thought was something good for me and my healing has turned against me.

As I think back over my life, I now recognize that I have many "hive" experiences.  At times I have ignored my instincts, godly and otherwise, to choose to allow things in my life that I thought would ultimately serve my good.  I did not have the courage to take a stand and declare that I was settling for second best.  Things went along okay for a while and then suddenly I found myself in an unhealthy, toxic situation--trapped with no end in sight.  The easy way had turned hard.

If only I had had the guts to do what the scripture says in Proverbs-- trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding; in all my ways submit to him, and he would make my paths straight--no additional discomfort, no extra suffering, no hives!