Snap. Or No More Onion Breath

No more onion breath. The title was decided upon yesterday.

Snap. At 12:30 this morning (Sunday) I made a simple move and my femur snapped. The pain was intense and I did not know what to do. My wife called the hospice nurse on call, and we decided that the best thing to do was to go to the hospital to have it checked.

As we waited for the ambulance to arrive, my wife busily made preparations and I spent the time uploading photos to this blog.

By 2:00, the ambulance crew arrived. Sean and Bruce did a great job moving me out of bed, down the stairs (although that was probably the scariest ride of my life!), outside, and into the ambulance. By 2:45 or so, I was in the ER at Wayne Memorial Hospital.

X-rays revealed that I do indeed have a fractured femur. Snap. Although surgery is an option, I am not considering it (in light of our bigger picture here).

It was decided at this time that it would be a good idea to change my pain medication. I was given an injection of Dilaudin (sp?). So far, it has been quite effective. Although it has caused me to be very drowsy.

By 6 am I was admitted to a private room and fell asleep.

My wife left for home at 9:30. Before leaving, we discussed logistics for the day. She would go home, take a shower, and make some necessary preparations. She would send my two older children over to visit with me while I waited for her to arrive with my younger son. The two younger children would later go home with the McLaughlin family. The Chupick family would meet us at the hospital at 3:00 to take our older son back to WP.

My two older children arrived between 11 and 11:30. We enjoyed spending time together. It’s not that we did much or said much – other than me telling them how wonderful they are, how blessed they are to have each other and such wonderful friends, etc. We simply enjoyed being in the presence of one another.

My wife and younger son arrived about 2 pm. For an hour, we visited and prepared for our older son’s departure to WP. He was hesitant about going back, but we urged him to do so. He wants to make sure that he is there for me and for his mom. Understandably so.

It was a busy hour. At three, everything seemed to explode as the Chupicks arrived to pick him up, as our friend Keri came to get our two younger children, and another friend dropped off a quart of mint chocolate chip ice cream! So many people serving us in a variety of ways!

It is now a little after 5 in the evening and all is very quiet here. My wife is resting in the chair beside me. She has had a very busy day and has had very little sleep.

I would like to work toward getting home in the next few days. As long as my wife will be able to care for me there. Toward that end, we will need to get this pain under control and make sure that my femur is stabilized. Also, I will have to consent to having a catheter. As much as I wanted to avoid it – and as scared as I am (I am such a wimp when it comes to needles and tubes) – it will help my wife care for me more easily.

Going home means familiar surroundings. Privacy.

I thought that, being here, I might be cut off from my present ministry - such as it is - through e-mail and this blog. Praise God, He has provided for this. I was able to find and connect to a wireless network here at the hospital. As the Lord allows, I will take the opportunity to use it.

My daughter had agreed to take what I can write from this hospital room and post it on the blog – although it would have been delayed in getting out there. She also agreed to print out my e-mails each day and bring them to me. So I could read them, but not necessarily respond. But, for the moment, that is not necessary! For this, I am grateful.

Snap. It changed some things. For us, but not for God. His plans have not been changed. He is sovereign over all. We will seek to glorify Him even in this. We will continue to seek to see Jesus. To help others to see Jesus.

Each day is a day closer to seeing Jesus.

In glory.

Where there will be no more onion breath.