On June 14, 2010, Joshua and I went to bed around 11:00 p.m. after watching my guilty pleasure, The Bachelorette. I stayed up and read in bed for awhile, and Joshua was asleep within 15 minutes. All of a sudden, Joshua jerked up in bed and began to grimace and shake. I do not know how else to describe it, except his face was bright red, and he looked like he was being electrocuted. I looked at him in alarm and asked if he could breathe. He violently shook his head no, then passed out. At that point, I began to panic, and I remember blurting out, "What do you want me to do??" Silly question, since he was not conscious. As I reached for my phone to dial 911, I recall thinking, "Sometimes young women become widows . . . what if, in the span of a few short minutes, I become that statistic?"
The operator answered, and I just remember screaming that my husband could not breathe and to send an ambulance. She transferred me to to someone else with the warning, "I have a hysterical female on the line." This was the reminder I needed to snap back to reality and compose myself. I also noticed that Joshua had began to breathe heavily, so I was less frantic with the knowledge that he was, in fact, alive. As I began to speak to the dispatcher, I realized that Joshua may have had a seizure, but I was unsure, as I had never seen someone have one, and it did not look like what I had seen depicted on TV.
Within minutes, the ambulance arrived, and I rushed outside to meet them. Thankfully, I had yet to remove my makeup or mess up my hair . . . apparently God was watching out for me even in the smallest circumstances! :-) There were 4-5 EMT's/Paramedics, and they seemed alarmingly slow. They sauntered up to the front door, and paused to look around the house. As I directed them upstairs, I heard one remark, "Wow, it's really clean in here!" Typically, my perfectionist self would be pleased with his observations, but I remember thinking, "Who cares! Get up here already!" (We later found out from an EMT friend that they are required to assess the surroundings, and they were likely surprised that there was no evidence of a party, drugs, alcohol, etc. since that is normally the case when a healthy young person suddenly collapses or has a seizure for seemingly no reason).
While the EMT's checked Joshua and lifted him onto a stretcher, I calmly went into survival mode and put my contact lenses back in, called my parents and a close friend to tell them what had happened, and selected clothes for Joshua to change into once he came to. I debated whether I should pack a hoodie, since hospitals can be cold. One of the EMT's looked at me funny, as if he was thinking, "Five minutes ago, you were a 'hysterical female' on the phone, and now you're packing clothes and calm as a cucumber??" It is interesting how we react in a crisis.
I rode to EMMC in the ambulance with Joshua, and he began to regain consciousness, although he had no idea who he was or where he was. The poor EMT in back was having quite a bit of trouble with him. Joshua was never violent or aggressive, but he most certainly did not want to be held down. As we rushed into the ER, it seemed as if everything around me was moving at lighting speed. I was asked about 50 times by 20 different people whether Joshua was on drugs. Exasperated, I finally retorted, "No, he's a pastor!" Thankfully, no one asked again. I stared on in alarm, as medical personnel swarmed the room, attempting to keep Joshua in the bed. Looking back, it seems almost comical now: there were a number of nurses, a doctor, two EMT's, two security officer's, and one Bangor PD officer, all trying to hold Joshua down. It was total chaos, and as I stood there observing it all, I felt like everything screeched to a halt and blurred around me. I suddenly heard God whisper to my heart, "Will you trust Me? Even now?" Right there, as my sweet husband was being clamped with restraints, I answered Him. "I do not know what is happening or why, but I trust You, God." For all I know, I may have even said it out loud (in which case, the nurses probably began to suspect that I was the one on drugs!). It was a profound moment that I will never forget. I was so confused, but I wanted desperately to trust Him.
That night and the next week passed in a whirlwind. Joshua had two lumbar punctures (otherwise known as a spinal tap) that showed nothing abnormal. I remember being upset that he was not diagnosed with Meningitis - three years before that, I had been terrified of that illness when a girl I went to highschool with suddely died from it. Ironically, Meningitis now seemed like one of the better alternatives, and it was humorous to think I actually prayed for that diagnoses. Joshua also had two MRI's that remained inconclusive, but the Neurologist assured us that he believed we were dealing with a brain infection. Either way, there was some sort of an abnormality on the brain scans and MRI's, and EMMC seemed to be baffled by it.
Four days later, Joshua was discharged from the hospital, only to have another seizure while waiting for his anti-seizure medication prescription in the hospital pharmacy. How ironic. He was rushed back to the ER for more rounds of puzzled explanations from doctors. This time, he had tightened his muscles so much during the episode, that he literally dislocated his shoulder. I assured him that this would someday be the perfect story for any future sons: I can see them on the playground someday, "My Dad's so strong and buff that his muscles caused him to dislocate his own shoulder!!"
Finally, almost a week later, a sling-clad Joshua returned home with us to await answers as to what was going on.
Monday, August 15, 2011
~The Day It All Began
Posted by Believing God at 6:11 PM
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