If you have been keeping up to date with my health condition, here on Life with Lynnie (LwL), you'll be aware that a while ago I went to a walk-in clinic to be examined by a doctor.
The swelling in my lower abdomen was extreme.
The clinic doctor told me that he thought that the reconstruction inside me, done during my recent surgery of March 26th, was coming undone. He felt that I was experiencing a hernia, with my bowels pushing through the opening.
Later, I faxed my surgeon in London, Ontario, to let him know what I had been told.
On Tuesday, April 29th, my London surgeon called me, at home. He explained to me that he wasn't convinced that what I had been told at the walk-in clinic, was the case. He told me that it could be as simple a thing, as a pocket of fluid inside me.
He told me that he wanted me to be examined by another physician. He also wanted me to have an Ultrasound test and a CT scan, done.
Within a couple of hours after my London surgeon's telephone call, my daughter P, picked me up and drove me to the hospital. She dropped me off at the hospital emergency room (ER), in the hospital where I previously had surgeries.
Waiting in the ER waiting area wasn't easy. Especially, since I could not sit straight up in a chair at a table, or even at the computer, for more than a few minutes at a time.
Yes, I told the triage nurse my situation. And, I also told the registration nurse.
Even so, I waited, and waited, and waited to be called in.
Slouching down in the chair, so that I wasn't bending and causing me pain wasn't easy. My neck, shoulders, back and of course, my gut... hurt big time!
After waiting over five (5) hours in the ER's waiting area, I finally saw an ER physician. By this time, I was in absolute agony.
An IV was hooked up to me. Morphine was given to me, for my pain.
Then, tests were done.
To be honest, it was a very upsetting time for me. I found that the doctor who attended me there, was not in a good mood. He was rude, short-tempered and in my opinion, uncaring... for he hadn't even totally examined me.
By the time he left my bedside, I broke down into tears.
The male nurse who assisted me, came in to see me. After several attempts at trying to place a lock into me so that blood work could be done easily, he finally got it done.
I was grateful to this nurse. He seemed to be a caring person. Although he didn't apologize (please know, I didn't expect him to) for how the doctor had treated me, he understood why I was upset.
While thinking about how awful I felt I had been treated, I prayed silently about it.
The book of Romans came into my mind. It is one of my favourites in His Word, the Bible.
Romans 12:1-2 came to mind, "I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God."
God helped me that evening. He calmed me down.
He reminded me that I had to present my body as a living sacrifice, just as we read, in the Bible verses.
I silently prayed, once again. And, I forgave the ER physician, just as God would have me do.
After all, He does want us to not be conformed to this world. He helped me renew my mind, so that I could do exactly what He would have me do. Meaning, being forgiving.
God blessed me that evening.
The results of the blood work showed there was no infection inside me. For this, I praised God!
I was told to return to the hospital the next day, to have an Ultrasound test done.
By the time I was discharged, and my daughter P picked me up and drove me home, it was about 12:45 a.m. the following day.
How grateful I was to my daughter, for assisting me by transporting me to and from the hospital. Thank you, P! May God bless you...
How grateful I was to God, for even though I have a physical condition that requires healing, it didn't involve any infection inside me!
Thank You, Lord.
Thank You, for loving me. For providing for me. And, for protecting me, from any further damage, after spending so much time waiting for help, at the hospital.
Until next time...
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