Playing Chicken

I asked what brought us to her house today. Getting information from her was difficult, but we learned that it was her daughter that we were transporting.

Bernadette was young, but her life had been one medical setback after another since she was a girl. At the age of 11, she suffered a severe diabetic seizure that left her with bilateral foot drop and other neurological issues. Recently, she’d had her gall bladder removed and had been experiencing chest pain for several days following the procedure. She’d been evaluated at one of the emergency rooms but they found nothing and sent her home. We were seeing her to take her to a different hospital for a second opinion and to see her surgeon.

Her countenance was sadder than a woman of twenty-something should have. A deep sense of discomfort began to stir inside me.

“Why was she so terribly sad?”

We loaded her and got a set of vitals. I asked about starting an IV.

“Don’t bother. I have a port. You wouldn’t be able to get an IV anyways. My veins are terrible.”

I could see a small bulge in her skin in her right upper chest at the edge of her tank top strap, where the port was located.

“OK….no IV.”

We did an EKG, checked her blood sugar, and rolled down the road. I began asking questions.

After the routine questions, I thought about asking if I could pray with her. But she seemed, for some reason, like the last person on earth who would want prayer. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why I thought why she would say no. It just seemed to me like she wouldn’t be interested. I almost chickened out.

One of the greatest problems I struggle with is the temptation to take the position that I have no responsibility to pray with patients and nothing to lose if I decide not to ask if they want prayer. I wish I could say that I ask everyone. But I don’t.

“I have one more question to ask you…..Would you like me to pray with you?”

As we pulled into the driveway of the hospital, she began to perspire. “You better check my blood sugar again. When it starts to drop it goes down fast.”We did another check of her blood sugar. It was 60. We usually give sugar if it’s less than 70. We transferred her to the ER and gave report. I got her a container of orange juice to drink. The nurse behind the desk gave me a scowl. “What are you doing?” I explained that her blood sugar was dropping. “Well, she’ll need more than one. I’ll get another one and you take her to her room.”

We got her moved over and gave report. I told her not to be a stranger. She promised to keep in touch.

Later that day she sent me a friend request on Facebook. She’s been admitted to the hospital. I posted a prayer request for her on my Facebook page and people responded.

She’s the first patient I’ve transported who connected with me on Facebook. I’m glad to have a friend like her.

When she’s healed, I’ll let you know.

This is an excerpt from the book My Craziest Adventures With God Volume 2.