When pain comes, then comes the test

I sit in my hospital bed, shaking, crying and shrieking in pain. “Oh, please someone help me!” I have been writhing in pain for many hours. No pain medication is given. I try to be a good Christian in this moment. I remember the Book of James chapter 1 verses 2-3: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing this, that the trying of your faith works patience.”

I want to scream at my nurse; I want to break free from all my devices and try as hard as I can to make my way down to the emergency department. I need pain relief. I need pain relief now! The doctor on my case is a resident. I tell him I need 200 of fentanyl to ease the pain. The doctor has never prescribed that much pain medication at one time to one patient. The doctor is completely clueless about pancreatitis, and the pain associated with it.

I feel completely defeated. In addition to the intense pain in my pancreas, abdomen and back, I am now completely grief-stricken. I know no pain relief will be coming. I soon cannot stop shaking and screaming. I truly wish God would take me away to heaven. I try to not act in a rude manner or say mean things to my nurse. I try to be an upright believer in Jesus in all my ways.

When I think I cannot endure the pain for one more minute, my nurse comes into my room with 100 of fentanyl. This amount of fentanyl will just lessen the pain and leave my body shaking. I have lost the energy and strength to cry and scream anymore. The short, less intense pain relief quickly comes and goes. My body is completely exhausted from the seven hour pain marathon. Now, my body starts having uncontrollable muscle cramps and spasms, a condition called dystonia. I push my call button for my nurse and wait a half hour for her to respond to my call light. Through my spasming jaw muscles, I am able to mutter “dystonia crisis” and “benzodiazepines”. Thankfully my nurse can understand me through my cleanched jaw and severely labored breathing.

An hour later, my nurse returns with Ativan. Within five minutes, my muscles loosen up. Despite the intense pain raging in my abdomen, my body falls into a quick 20 minute sleep. When I awake, I continue fighting through the last few hours of my pancreatitis attack. After 12 hours of excruciating pain, I praise God that the pain is becoming less intense. I try to analyze if I have passed God’s trial. I did not curse anyone out. I tried not to be mean or scream at the nurse. I tried as hard as possible to be my best self despite all the agony pulsating through my body. I pray this is my last pancreatitis test...but if it is not, I pray to have the right attitude and to have the composure to be the best possible Christian during these incredible trying times.