**The last photos are graphic.
When D was in the hospital last week for splitting her head open on a volleyball net post that was cemented to the ground, she had forgot several years of her life. Part of that amnesia included living with me. When the school called at 9:45am, they were just notifying me that she may need stitches and I might want to meet her at the hospital. Sometimes people go down the mountain to handle emergencies because they say it’s a better hospital. Being that it was her face cut open, they wanted to give me the option of where she would be sewn up at to do the least amount of scaring. Nonchalantly, I got dressed and met her there.
When D was in the hospital last week for splitting her head open on a volleyball net post that was cemented to the ground, she had forgot several years of her life. Part of that amnesia included living with me. When the school called at 9:45am, they were just notifying me that she may need stitches and I might want to meet her at the hospital. Sometimes people go down the mountain to handle emergencies because they say it’s a better hospital. Being that it was her face cut open, they wanted to give me the option of where she would be sewn up at to do the least amount of scaring. Nonchalantly, I got dressed and met her there.
I walked into emergency and saw a teacher and asked where she was. He pointed to a room and I bopped in there smiling. Talking fast like I usually do and rubbing her leg and thigh (we are a touchy family) in comfort, I was asking what happened, how you feeling, how did this happen, etc. She returned my touch with moving her bottom to the wall on her gurney as if a victim is on all fours with their butt on the ground acts as someone stands over them with a bat or knife! Her eyes instantly made me tear up. She looked as if she was having PTSD of her mom. I thought maybe she was having flashbacks of being in the public hospital after her mom died. She didn’t sleep for 3 days straight. She was wide awake in shock and fear having a massive breakdown and they brought her to the hospital where they knocked her out to rest. I thought all the blood reminded her of holding her mom as she died. Her eyes scared me.
She turned to her friend asking in Spanish who I was and why was I touching her. Uhh, what? Who? Who is she talking about?
I had no idea there was brain trauma. Umm, me? Is she talking about me? Yes.
Wow. I didn’t even try to say, Hey, I’m your Mom.
She was panicking and we decided I would wait outside. Wait, she thinks I would cause her harm? I was mind blown.
(I’ll find out later she was never experiencing PTSD-- no flashbacks happened. She said, “Mom, I thought all that would make me freak out about my Mom and it didn’t.” I REALLY was ME causing the anxiety being the stranger.
But, wait. I’m the one that comforts her.
Then, it was time to go into the surgery room to sew up her head and I couldn’t go in there either. When she came out, she was in a gown and I was so mad/sad that she changed without me!! That’s my kid and she doesn’t take clothes off without me!
To Daniela, we were the Americans that put on a VBS sports camp years ago right before she moved in. She confirmed to me later that she was just waiting for SOMEONE to come to her in the hospital. Anyone but these creepy Americans that are in her room.
We had to transfer her to another medic place to do the brain scan. I asked her if we were making her anxious, she said yes. As she was about to go into the scan machine, I started to cry as I took her hair out of a ponytail. She was able to understand all English, but only reply in Spanish. She looked at me and said, Are you crying? Why are you crying? I didn’t even answer, just quickly wiped tears as I tried to get her stupid hair tie out of her ridiculously thick, curly hair. She said, “Hey, stop crying. You don’t need to cry, everything is fine. Stop crying, ok?”
I kept finding myself on the brink of tears! Repeatedly saying to myself, but I’m the one that comforts her! How can I be causing the panic?
Later she started calling me mama and not knowing why, then apologizing for calling me that. So what’s your name? I forgot.
I couldn’t help but feel such empathy for her. Being a 15 year old little girl in the hospital alone and waiting for help to come.
***By 3 in the afternoon, she had laid her head to rest for a moment and woke up calling me Mama. This time FOR REAL.
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| Brother David came to visit. |
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| Eating the next morning and no issues swallowing |
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| You bring your own blankets, pillows, shower stuff, towels, etc |
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| We prayed for a new upgraded room with air and got it! Even had a fridge and better wifi! |
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| We are out of there the next day at 11:45am! |
This is the real reason for this blog and I left out A LOT OF details about the rest. Daniela wrote a blog and she might hit them, but this is the most important…
I think it was the next day we got back home, I woke up to read, like usual, as the sun was barely coming up. As I was reading in Genesis, I heard God tell me…I AM the Comforter.
Even in typing that tonight, my eyes well up. I repented immediately. Who do I think I am!? Geesh. I spent all day freaking out that I wasn’t able to comfort her. Although I prayed for her, did I once ask God to comfort her? No. Not once did I ask Him to do what HE DOES. I was too busy silently crying for her because she was scared and I couldn’t be the one to soothe her fears. A lot of people commented that it must be so sad for me to have done so much for her the last 5 years and that wasn’t remembered. Or just to be a Mom that isn’t remembered, but honestly, none of that even crossed my mind. We would work though the memory stuff. My heartache was her loneliness-- a little girl at the hospital without any loving faces that she knows and can give her rest.
Luke had already prayed by himself for her to have memory back and she instantly remembered him baptizing her. Praises to Him for that memory! She was still puzzled as to why he baptized her. He asked her if she was praying through this, she said no. She told me later her memory was saying she wasn’t Saved. I do not even understand that. My thought was well, she doesn’t know Jesus right now, so He can’t do anything for her right now.
This was not true.
I do not want to experience any of that ever again, but I am so thankful to go through that trial that spoke so loudly to me that I DO NOT COMFORT her, HE DOES. I need to lift her up to Him to take care of His kid. She is His before she is MINE.
All along, she was never alone. Man, that just makes me cry. People always comment how I am so Jesus focused and yet, here I was trying to wear pants that do not belong to me. With the best MOM intentions around, not in a prideful manner—or so I thought. But, really, it is. It’s a scary place to try to take over titles that aren’t ours. I never want to replace Him as number 1 because I am going to die one day. There are going to come days in their lives when they are truly alone physically and I will not be there to lean on…
BUT HIM.
He will always be there. He promises to NEVER leave us and never FORSAKE us.
Never.
