The Cry of the Heart  †

I am still recuperating from a very severe reaction to medication.  It has been an uphill battle to regain my strength and my health.   But God has been faithful through the entire episode.

It all started the 28th day of March, 2000. I was working in a convenience store.  I had been moving a display of two liter soda from one area of the store and putting it on a display rack in another area.  Suddenly, I was laying on the floor.  I'm not sure exactly what happened, but apparently I had briefly passed out.  I woke up with two strange men bent over me.  They were trying to verify that I was all right.  A representative delivering merchandise was in the store at the time and immediately called my supervisor.  The supervisor called the paramedics.  Either the paramedics or the supervisor called an ambulance in which I was taken to the hospital.  The hospital kept me overnight for observation.  After running some tests, the diagnosis was that I had had some seizure related activity.  I was put on the medication Dilantin.

The company I was working for did not allow me to continue in my job as I was not allowed to drive.  Other than that, things seemed to be going fine until the 27th of April.  That morning, I noticed a terrible itching on my head.  I thought I was coming down with a case of dandruff.   Was I ever in for a surprise as this was just the beginning.  I had no idea that I would soon be facing death.

The 28th found me feeling ill and feverish.  I stayed in bed and slept most of the day.  I woke up the morning of the 29th of April with a fever, scratchy throat and what appeared to be a rash all over my body.   My wife, Donna, took me to a walk-in clinic where the doctor diagnosed an upper respiratory infection.  He prescribed appropriate medication.  We went home thinking all would be well.

Later that day would find us in the emergency room.  I had begun running a very high fever for an adult especially.  It was about 103 degrees Fahrenheit.  We could not seem to bring it down.  Not knowing what else to do, my wife took me to the emergency room.

They were able to bring the fever down. Since we had seen a doctor earlier in the day, they sent us home.  We had a good nights sleep.  The next day, the 30th, found us back at the emergency room.  The fever was pushing 105 and rising.  Donna was becoming anxious that there was something seriously wrong with me.  I was becoming delirious and fading in and out of consciousness.  My heart rate was going as high as 144 beats per minute.  It goes without saying that I came pretty close to going home to be with the Lord.  But He wasn't done with me yet.

The emergency room personnel contacted a representative of my regular doctor and I was admitted to the hospital.  It would not be long before it was decided that I needed more care than the average patient.  I was transferred to an intermediate care unit where I continued in and out of consciousness.  After being under their attentive care for three days, and not showing fever, I was sent back to a regular hospital room.  After another two days with no sign of fever, I was sent home.  Surely, all would be well now.

Two days later, it was back to the emergency room.  I was back in the hospital for another six days.  Still with the same symptoms.  For the second time in as many weeks, I almost died.  But God had something else in mind for me.  He has miraculously saved me alive.  There was one night, in particular that I remember.  I had just closed my eyes to sleep.  I realized that it was my choice as to whether I woke up again or not.

I could say that God gave me some great vision.  I could say that He spoke aloud to me.  I could spiritualize what happened.  But I won't.  I closed my eyes and did, indeed, see a vision.  It was not some super spiritual thing.  It was better than that.

I closed my eyes and saw the three most precious faces.  No, not the face of Moses or Abraham.  Not even the face of Christ.  I saw my three grandchildren.  I saw their faces as clearly as if they were standing next to me in the room.  I knew then why I had to go on.  If for no other reason than that these three precious little ones might perceive some small, minute, miniscule amount of Christ in me, I had to go on.

I was fortunate in that my Grandfather was very loving.  He had several grandchildren, but loved each one equally and each one uniquely.  He exemplified Christ to each one of us.  If I can be one tenth of a grandfather to my grandchildren as my grandfather was to his, then I will count myself as a successful grandfather.

I am still recuperating from this ordeal.  I am much stronger and ready to get back into life and into active ongoing ministry in the Lord.

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