May 17, 2016
I have been a very sick girl. A small injury on my shin slowly turned into a massive infection that became septic. For 10 days in the hospital, the doctors worked to strengthen me so that I could survive. Both my lungs and heart were compromised and I now have a quarter size hole in my leg that needs to heal. That’s enough said about that!
I now am recovering at home and reflecting on what the experience was all about. We have lived in Mexico for almost 23 months. It has been an experience that can’t be told with just words. It is the greatest, and the hardest. As I lay in the hospital I realized that I just may have the choice of going back to California 13 months early. I was sick enough to request that…… but I didn’t. Keith and I talked and we came to realize that we really didn’t want to go home early. Do we miss our town, our children, and our grandchildren? Absolutely. Do we want to stay and finish what we are doing here? Absolutely. I think that perspective change will carry me for a long time.
As news spread of my sickness, Keith and I were amazed at what a presence social media has become! It was not just my family praying for me, it was past missionaries, parents of missionaries, websites dedicated to missionary moms and past school buddies. Friends of my children knew what was going on everywhere from North Carolina to Texas to Washington, and California. My son’s boss joined in the prayers as did coworkers. Quickly many temples and families knew my name. That is a humbling experience! What faith so many have.
Because I am the “wife” of a mission president, word went to Salt Lake City quickly also. Doctors from Salt Lake called and monitored my progress. A cardiologist from the states but now serving in South America is still checking. Our area medical authority, Dr. Heder, came to the hospital several times. My name was added to the Quorum of the Twelve’s prayer roll. (I didn’t even know they had one.)
As I lay there so sick, I sometimes wondered what all the fuss was about. Poor Keith slept on the room’s couch for 7 nights. I never saw him cry but knew he was when he wasn’t by me. My children were in close contact and I just hoped it wasn’t being too hard on them.
It is hard to sum it all up. I can say that I’m glad to be alive. I’m glad to still be in Mexico. I know there is a God who lives and loves us dearly. I have been deeply touched by the generosity of so many – so many who could not be by my bedside, but could turn to a God they loved, and ask for a special blessing for me.
I don’t think I want to go through that again. Wonder if that can be my “once in a lifetime” experience?