Posted on 02/16/2015 11:29:19 AM PST by Mrs. Don-o
“Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” Mark Twain
Hello, Freepalicious friends, this will have been your first and probably your last communication from me until Christ our God grants a better body/brain recovery. But I wanted to write what I can before it all disappears down the Memory Hole.
Collapsed on Jan 19, septic shock from UTI. EMT's say BP fell to something like 40. Dead.
Cardiac arrest. And again. And again. Dead, dead, dead.
No bright tunnel of light, no golden escalator with old Fleetwood Mac mix tapes, no exclusive book and movie rights. I even forgot that I'd promised, if I were ever in dramatic straits, to ask for the intercession of Elizabeth Anscombe, one of God's noblewomen, who just needs a teeny-tiny documentable miracle in order to be beatified. I even blew THAT. I wasn't only nearly dead, I was really most sincerely dead.
Teams of people, however, were darting me with epis and drilling holes in my face, neck and groin to pump in corpse-warmer concoctions faster than my baffled body could tolerate them. They forced the issue, Lord love 'em all. I was on a ventilator for fifteen days.
Prayer groups started double and triple teaming me, which opened up spaces even in the Enemy's territory where grace could operate. Dozens of St Mary's people came tumbling into the Med Center ICU with their hand-knotted rosaries and their Divine Mercy prayers, with sweet trust bordering on obstinacy.
Was it before or after my airway collapsed that a Greek Orthodox priest friend anointed me with sweet oil from a myrrh-bearing icon of St. Anne? Was it before the Two Specialists started staring at the CT and MRI results and muttering “Look at the size of that obstruction. Christ Almighty, what a mess!”--- that my pastor came and gave me the precious Viaticum –- a transfusion from the veins of Jesus Christ Our Lord?
Lord have mercy 12 x. Lord have mercy 40 x. Lord have mercy Women's Plus Size XXL with elastic waistband.
Was it before or after I started hallucinating, that the “Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, Chant-o-Matic” was being dialed up to Max right there in the Med Center atrium? Yes, dearest Baptist friends, Catholics do chant. (And OK, Orthodox buddies, we do mumble.) Anyway, a skeptical world could see how Catholics come fully armed and ready to rumble.
If you're laughing a bit, here's where it stops.
I was given a vision of evil.
I am not writing this because I want you to think, “Oh woo-woo, Mrs Don-o must be holy, she has these Mystical Experiences TM” or even (closer to the truth) “Is there nothing this proud, ignorant, hypocritical woman will not say for 15 minutes of fame?” I haven't the strength in my shaking hands to waste on dubious claims of “God told me,” nor breath in my body to argue about these things, nor (this is the important point) do I understand what I saw. God (!) told (!) me (!), “You're not going to understand but zero-point-one percent of this,” and behold, all-y'all, the fact is, I don't understand it.
I saw evil.
I saw the mouth of evil.
I know that, trembling hands or not, I'll have to explain about the “mouth,” –- though I can't. But I'll try.
It was not large. It was about an inch square, no bigger than a typical chessboard square. It was not a lewd, loose-lipped, lolling Miley Cyrus mouth, nor a thin-lipped Atheist Medical Ethicist mouth with moustache attached, like a cheap movie Mephistopheles.
In fact, there was no face attached. It was a mouth. It had one single snaggle tooth, barbed and recurved on itself like the kind of fish hook that, when the fool fish tries to back off, just digs in deeper. On the tip of the snaggle tooth was a single drop of green venom sufficient, I thought, to destroy life on all inhabited planets.
And the mouth was inside-out.
How you can tell a “mouth” is "inside-out" I do not know, except that it seems I read somewhere about some odious marine parasite that chomps down on some part of its intended victim and then turns itself inside-out, so that the victim is enveloped and slowly digested by the writhing, now-exterior intestines. Holiness? Heaven? People speak of near-death experiences glowing with consolation and beatitude; my NDE was more involved with Homicide and Hell.
I saw a RN I despised, a sort of pontillist-Catholic as it happens, one who got passive-aggressive with me when I was experiencing anguish and terror. She had disputed with me for hours, contemptuously, dismissively, over whether I could have a freaking mouth swab.
Not that I could speak much beyond “ungh, ungh.” But I could point to the mouth swabs which were an inch beyond my reach, and point to my mouth where everything was stuck together like Crazy Glue, and make the classic Praying Hands gesture, and she would say, “You had swab 32 minutes ago, thang Q!” and then walk away.
I couldn't make out her accent but she had evidently trained in someplace where they told her that it is the ultimate in American professional courtesy to end every sentence with “Thank you,” regardless of context. Thus:
“Do not bite tongue, thang Q!”
“Do not move finger, thang Q!”
“Stop breathing, thang Q!”
“You are not thirsty. You had swab 44 minutes ago, thang Q!”
He face right next to mine (and she smelled like Citrusy-Fresh Floor Disinfectant) “You are not thirsty. You had swab only 55 minutes ago, thang Q!”
I was left sweltering in my own sweat for hours in an underground claustrophobic corridor between the CT unit and the ICU. Nurse DeeDee attempted no gesture of consolation, offered nothing, disappeared for hours without explanation, would pop back round the corner with,
“I SAID, Do not bite tongue, thang Q!”
Bad nurse. Nurse Ratched. Motto: Service to Subumanity. DeeDee, Destroyer of Worlds.
If I had a choice between Jesus Christ or a filet knife, I would have chosen the knife. I could do more damage with it. If I had a choice between Jesus Christ or pushing this despicable woman through a window, my dying words would have been, “Ah, bloody plate glass.”
Then I saw the Mouth of Evil open up to swallow me and the entire world. And the entire world. And I heard an intense warning:
“Forgive her.”
“I can't, Lord. Can't You see my mind is disintegrating?”
“Forgive her.”
“Are YOU freaking crazy, too? I'm being destroyed by this stupid disease and I'm laying in this stupid lithotomy position at the mercy of this stupid odious DeeDee, my mind is being shattered under the hammer-blows of pain and fear. I can't chose anything, can't calculate anything, can't desire anything ...”
“I didn't say anything about 'Calculate.”
“I can't forgive her.”
“Of course you can't. Your pulmonary, cardiac and renal function are failing. Your brain function is disintegrating. YOU can't forgive her. How right you are. Ask Me to forgive her.”
“How long do I have to decide?”
“You moron! There is no more time! Do it now!”
I was well and truly freaked. “Oh, Dear Lord...?”
“Yes?”
“Dear Lord, forgive DeeDee...”
“And?”
“And wash away her iniquities, or whatever it is You do...”
“And?”
“And don't hold her offenses against her. And help her to become the kind of RN and the kind of good Catholic woman she ought to be.”
Forgive your DeeDee's.
Good to read your most missed posting presence, indescribably Mrs. Don-o-ish. (You could never post incognito...you’re much too recognizable!)
I’m not sure you saw this report NYer if not here you are and your ping list may be equally interested.
I think you may have initiated a new FReeperism Mrs. Don-o, to be ranked with “stunned beeber” and “hoping in the shower”. Thang-Q!
Now stay well, thang-q.
Glad you’re back.
Yikes what an experience! Glad you are back.
Really most sincerely happy that you are on the road to recovery.
Epic. This topic will live in the annals of FR history. Prayers for you both.
“Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.”
LOL...tomorrow, tomorrow. Today let me feast before the fast. :)
Yes, the DeeDee’s of the world did make an investment in their education, but said investment was to become profitable subject to acceptable professional behavior.
Those “wholly unsuited” for their profession must be stripped of professional status lest they hurt others. Nursing is no field for the unfeeling.
Forgive DeeDee - Bah!
Counsel/retrain DeeDee - Humbug!
The uncaring can only be made into good nurses by G*d - - and He isn't welcome on the faculty of the academented, IIRC.
Yes, I am judgemental, and I learned it from a good source, actually, many sources. Bottom line, certain herds need culling.
My answer was "Oh, Hot Cross Buns."
Bookmark!
I read your piece the second the ping came in,in fact I read it 4 times.
I have three thoughts
a. Ben must be awesome,he was sure raised right
b. A lotta us should prolly ask Dee Dee to forgive US
c. The honor to be a witness for Christ is exampled in your writin ,humble,accurate,and teachable talent
Deo gratias.
Amen.
I’m so happy you are back and on the path to recovering,your posts are always food for thought and prayer and often,amusement and I missed you. Looking forward to hearing more about this whole experience with “evil”.
I regret to hear that you missed out on Fleetwood Mac, but it is gratifying to receive your testimony that among the last things to go are the blessings of wit and humor.
A spot of ash on the forehead tomorrow will remind me of you and of the Love of Jesus.
UTIs are the worst. One time I spent a Christmas Eve with my uncle going through a similar situation. It was horrible.
I wish you peace and comfort.
Forgiveness works. I use it every day when dealing with my Elder cares. Its just not their fault the way they are.
I sleep well after letting it all go. Every day.
Welcome back!
I thank God for you and for your feistiness.
I just said a Hail Mary for Dee-Dee.
Luke 6:
27 “But I say to you that hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. 29 To him who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from him who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. 30 Give to every one who begs from you; and of him who takes away your goods do not ask them again. 31 And as you wish that men would do to you, do so to them.
He wasn't kidding.
He really does want us to love even our worst enemies.
He really does want us to pray for those who hate and abuse us.
Lord, grant them the grace of repentance and conversion.
Lord, grant ME the grace of repentance and conversion.
I’m so delighted to see you back posting on the forum and to know that you are recovering from your illness. You and your family remain in my prayers.
Thank you. We remain much in the need of your prayers. Physically I am still extremely frail (can’t walk, can hardly roll over in the hospital bed)-— mentally weakened as well (CRS!!). My caring, loving husband has been so devoted. He needs the prayers too.
God is good! All for Him!
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