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.
Dearest Mrs. Don-o, I love you and I thank you for this message, which is a universal message for everyone, and I pray this is not your last comment here but if it is, or is not, may God continue to protect You in the very best way that only He can.
I read once that God is like a loving Father who gives his child sweet milk to drink or sometimes bitter medicine, whichever the child needs. And the good child drinks it all.
Hugs,
me
Awesome!
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/chat/3258130/posts?page=161#161
Could you please delete this one? It didn’t format correctly and it was a mistake for me to post it.
Thank you.
I've known some DeeDee's...in my career.
I can arrest to how bad cardiac arrest is—been there twice.When I was in arrest, I banged my head on the floor and ended up with brain surgery—not a wonderful thing, but is what has kept me here. I ended up with a brain bleed, which had to be drained.
The biggest problem I have noticed is loss of memory.
I suppose there are worse things—but having a loss of memory is no fun.
My husband and kids and folks I work with sometimes get tired of having to remind me of things I have forgotten.
It is what is is, and unfortunately, it isn’t going to change.
Brain surgery has a way of doing that.
Sending prayers your way for a complete recovery.
Thanks for the testimony!
God bless you, Little Jeremiah, and all the other FReepers of Good Will who have been praying for me. I have truly experienced my own vanity,emptiness, and nothingness -— and the great wealth of the Communion of Saints, those who in God share their spiritual goods with one another.
I’m recovering slowly in my little vacation venue in rehab. Got my husband here much of the time singing with me and popping pineapple tidbits into my mouth. Ain’t love grand!
And I went to the toilet my own self today.
O frabjous day! Calloo callay!
:o)
First, the anecdote about DeeDee was not to condemn DeeDee, but to show how frail and feeble my own mind and good intentions turn out to be. I am not confessing her faults, but mine.
Second. DeeDee was the single exception to the uniformly high standards of professionalism and kindness which I have encountered since my medical crisis.
God sent me DeeDee for a reason!
And I've seen bad turn to good....
And I've seen things..I never want to see again.
And I've gone against order's....to show someone common decency.
Enough said.............
I did a Divine Mercy Chaplet for Mrs. Dono. Amen.
What a blessing (in disguise) you were given! Thank you for sharing your experience with us. It’s written so beautifully, I’ll be re-reading and re-reading.
So happy you’re back. God bless.
The conclusion of your story/testimony reminds me very much of the final portion of the Prayer of St. Ephraim, which the Orthodox say very regularly during Lent, with Prostrations following each petition:
O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, despair, lust of power, and idle talk.
(Prostration)
But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Your servant.
(Prostration)
Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own transgressions, and not to judge my brother, for blessed are You, unto ages of ages. Amen.
(Prostration)
My prayers continue for you and yours there, Mrs. Don-o.
(And I know you like music, so maybe you'll feel just a little bit better about DeeDee if you hear her sing a few songs...)
Mashed Potato Time - Dee Dee Sharp(And here's a song you can sing to don-o when you're feeling stronger again - just change "Day-O" to "Don-O"...)Slow Twistin' - Chubby Checker & Dee Dee Sharp
Day-O - Harry Belafonte(And here's a little "ecumenical" humor which might bring you a little smile...) :-) (...this guy insults everybody!)
Denominations - Mark Lowry(And, finally, (from the ridiculous to the sublime, sort of), please be assured of this Mrs. Don-o...)
God Will Take Care Of You - Oak Ridge Boys (with Gaithers)
First, Mrs. Don-o, this is the depiction of death to grind Dostoevsky into dust.
Second, we rejoice and we thank God for granting you healing.
O Jesus Christ our Savior and our Lord, we love Thee and we adore Thee for from the mouth of death Thou delivereth Thy servant onto life everlasting.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, in the company of saints in heaven we pray, amen, alleluia, amen, amen.
You mentioned Ste. Anne, the Divine Mercy, the Communion of Saints, among others. I wish you could see all the prayers that stormed Heaven for you- like a blizzard in reverse, lol!
Thank you for taking the time and energy to share something with us that we all need to hear at one time or another: about forgiveness... God bless you both, and all those whom you love! You're a gift to us, both of you! May God be praised, and keep you together for years to come!
I am glad you are on you road to recovery and will continue praying for you.
Dearest Mrs. Don-o, thank you so much for your reply. I have been absent much of the time from FR and did not see your testimony up top of thread until yesterday.
I am grateful and happy to hear of your recovery and may you continue until you feel as good as new.
Your experiences as you describe:
“I have truly experienced my own vanity,emptiness, and nothingness -— and the great wealth of the Communion of Saints, those who in God share their spiritual goods with one another.”
Are something every soul needs to go through and your honest (and I admit funny), touching, and awe inspiring, and frightening, description, touched my heart deeply and thought of my own inner journeys.
I pray for your well being and recovery.
Wow. Thank you for that. Prayers and hope to see you posting again soon.
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