Thursday

Thursday is pretty much my favorite day of the week. I’m not exactly sure why, but it seems like anything can happen on a Thursday. I got saved on a Thursday. Jesus ate the Last Supper, prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, and was arrested on a Thursday. My choir usually practices on a Thursday, and awesome things usually happen when we all hang out together. Thursday is just a magical day.

As I was saying, anything can happen on a Thursday... and it did.

 

In case you haven’t heard, I went to the ER on Thursday. I woke up that morning after I had barely slept; I had been fighting some kind of cold, and the medicine I took didn’t knock me out like a good generic version of NyQuil should. But I prepared for a busy day. While I was taking a shower, my right hand and arm felt like they were on pins and needles, and my right leg felt the same way. I saw spots (which I usually do because I’m nearsighted) that were more pronounced than usual, and my vision felt like it was caving in, as if I were about to faint.

It seemed like something was very wrong. I felt like I wanted to lie down and sleep, but I knew if I did, it would be a bad thing. I prayed and asked God to not let me die, and I asked Him to make sure that MeepMeep would be OK. What the heck was happening? Did I have some weird kind of infection like meningitis? Was I having a heart attack?

I finished my shower as best I could, and when I got out of the bathroom, I was panting for breath. I ate breakfast and felt a little better. I called around to see what kind of medical attention I could get with my health insurance, and I decided to go to an urgent care center. (I also figured that if I was well enough to do some research, maybe I wasn’t that sick.)

At the urgent care center, the nurse took my blood pressure a couple of times, I explained the weird symptoms I had had earlier, and she said they needed to do an EKG. As soon as I had stripped down for the procedure, the nurse practitioner burst into the room and told me that I needed to go to the ER because my blood pressure was strokeworthy. She explained that they would give me an IV and send me to a hospital in an ambulance.

The paramedics arrived as soon as the urgent care team performed the EKG. (I heard the siren blaring in the distance and was like, “Wow. Is that for me?”) It was freezing outside, so they put a blanket over me as I was escorted to the emergency vehicle. The paramedics performed a second EKG. I looked at the monitor and, if I remember correctly, my blood pressure was around 236/126. During the ambulance ride, I looked out the window and saw cars on the highway driving toward me. (I’ve lived in the Metroplex for a significant portion of my life, and it was cool to not see the backs of cars for once.)

At one point, I looked over at the empty seat next to me in the ambulance. Either in my mind’s eye or in my spirit, I saw Somebody sitting next to me. I was like, Oh, it’s an angel! And God was like, “No, it’s Me.” Then He kind of hovered in front of my face like He often does and smiled like a proud Papa who was just checking on me. (Or maybe just hanging out with me.)

After we arrived at the ER, the entire emergency team gave me immediate attention. They hooked me up to an EKG machine yet again and performed the test a third time. They administered two doses of medication until my blood pressure was brought down to 184/93, and then they discharged me. The diagnosis was malignant hypertension, which I’ve now been in the process of taking care of.

I’ll use this paragraph for comic relief. You know you’re alive in 2019 when... your first order of business in the ER is to get your phone out of your purse and start snapping selfies for social media. You know the healthcare industry is out of touch with America when... their idea of de-stressing you for high blood pressure is to inform you that your ER visit will cost $4,000. You know you’re wet behind the ears when... you ask the nurse if he needs his EKG stickers back after he discharges you.

Actually, he kindly informed me that they come off with hot water in the shower. I shared a photo earlier in this post of all three types of stickers that were adhered to me. (I was still scraping off the adhesive from my skin this morning. That stuff is strong.) I haven’t heard anything yet regarding my test results, so I’m hoping that means I didn’t have a heart attack, a weird infection, or any other medical abnormality.

But I think I did almost have a stroke.

“As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people from this time forth and forever.” (Psalm 125:2)

After I settled back home and started to process everything, I felt like God showed me that He allowed all of this to happen so that I could see that I was surrounded. Friends all over social media prayed for me and offered to help. Friends dropped by my apartment and showered me with generous gifts. Friends checked on me to see how I was doing.

I love that.

As I type this, I am not 100%. I’ve been recovering from my Thursday scare, and I’ve been trying to make some lifestyle adjustments that will help me in the long run. (My grandmother died after a massive heart attack, my other grandmother died after a series of strokes, and although they were both wonderful women, I don’t want to follow in their footsteps.) And I’m still fighting whatever cold or infection that I was fighting before I had my blood pressure incident. I’m exhausted. But interestingly, God doesn’t seem worried.

Earlier today while I was lying down and talking to God -- maybe in the same way that King Hezekiah had a heart-to-heart with Him, except that I wasn’t on my deathbed -- He and I had an interesting conversation. He showed me a picture of a road marker, like the kind you would see on a highway; it said “Been there, done that.” He also reminded me of the word “chazaq,” which is Hebrew for “strong.” And He reminded me that He had told me earlier to power through this season like a champ. So, I think I know what I need to do.

I’m not going to curl up in a fetal position and give up. And I’m not going to be some irresponsible kid and neglect my body. I know who I am. I know that God has good plans for me. I know that He still wants me here.

And I know that the devil hates me. (Just like he hates you.) This morning, I did my street-fight style of spiritual warfare in my living room and informed the dark forces that I’m not quitting.

So, I’m going to take care of myself as best I can. I’m a survivor, I’m surrounded with help, and I’m going to do everything I can to make this crazy life work. God is here, He’s helping me, and He’s available to lean on.

“ ‘What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Will the dust praise You? Will it declare Your truth? Hear, O Lord, and have mercy on me; Lord, be my helper!’ You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, to the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.” (Psalm 30:9-12)

The dark forces can put that in their pipe and smoke it. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.