As I lie in my bed, every fiber of my body aches as my 102.5 degree fever continues. The previous night, I got almost no sleep as I was continually awaken by violent coughing spells. I have spent most of the day in bed, too tired to move and too tired to sleep.
It is 6 p.m. My dad is outside on the patio cooking supper. I hear a loud crash. I swear I hear my dad yell for help. I have an image flash in my head that my dad fell and hit his head. I don’t move. I know my mom is sitting near the patio door, and she can help. I listen. I don’t hear anything more. I then hear the patio door open and hear my dad’s footsteps in the kitchen. I praise God that whatever happened, everything must be ok.
Around 8:30 p.m., my fever finally drops to 102.1 degrees. I know I need to eat and drink as I have had little food and liquids during the day. I get out of bed. As I enter the kitchen, I hear the door to the garage swing open. “HELP!!!” It’s my dad screaming for assistance. I rush to the garage. My dad has his hands on his head. There is blood dripping down his face, and blood is splattered all over the garage.
I grab a rag from the utility room and give it to my dad. I start looking at his head but then realize this is a horrible idea. I have pneumonia caused by pseudomonas. Pseudomonas LOVES to infect wounds. The last thing I want is to unintentionally give my dad my pseudomonas infection. I immediately zip off to my room to grab some disposable gloves. In a flash, I am back by my dad’s side. I grab an ice pack from the freezer and tell him to go to the bathroom. I wipe off some of the blood on his face. I know head wounds bleed a lot; I am not distracted by all the blood. I examine his head and am relieved to see his head is in pretty good shape. My dad is alert and able to hold a conversation. I can tell he is in shock, but overall, I am praising God my dad seems to be ok.
When my mom sees my dad and hears that he fell head first off a ladder, she loudly asserts, “You are going to the ER right now!” I agree with my mom. I have no idea how much trauma his head or neck might have endured during the fall. The last thing I want to happen is for my dad to go to sleep tonight and never wake up due to a complication from the fall.
There are two hospitals one can visit depending which direction you drive from our house. My mom, knowing I have visited both hospitals asks, “Which hospital should we go to?” I immediately blurt out the name of the hospital. I not sure where the words come from; I am pretty sure God put the words in my mouth. My parents leave for the ER.
After their departure, I am a bit disturbed about the day’s events. Was I dreaming at 6 p.m. when I first heard my dad fall? Was this a vision from God? Was God trying to warn me about the future? Whatever the case may be, I praise God I was able to spring into action. I also praise God for suggesting the hospital.
As soon as my dad enters the ER, he is taken right back to triage. Before my dad even enters his ER room, the doctor is examining his head in the hallway. The doctor is very proactive and quickly orders tests and treats my father’s head wound. All the tests come back clear. There are no complications. He is discharged home. Once again, I feel as though God put a giant hedge of protection around my dad. His fall could have been so much worse. I praise God for the incredibly fast medical attention. I praise God for sparing my dad’s life. Amen.
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