Читать книгу I didn´t ask to be gold - Patricia Adrianzén de Vergara - Страница 17

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DIVINE SOVEREIGNTY

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

(Philippians 4:6-7)

“Your children are not in your hands, nor in the devil’s hands, but in God’s hands.”

These were our pastor’s words on the phone, consoling my husband, who’d shared the ups and downs we were going through. And they were words I repeated over and over again, in my anguished prayers, during those 15 minutes that the doctor took to come down and the nurse did not heed my words. It was obvious that the medicine had shocked my five-year-old son. His body itched all over, and he seemed about to faint. His eyes rolled back. He was desperate with the itchy, burning sensation of his skin. The nurse examined him. As she found no welts or visible swelling, she decided to wait for the doctor to finish his rounds on the hospital floor. I struggled I don’t know how many minutes in prayer, reminding God that my son was in his hands, and repeating it to myself.

We had admitted Rogercito to the emergency room that day for uncontrollable vomiting that had been going on for two days. He could not even stomach water. He threw everything up; not even injections had any effect. As it was clear that he was likely to become dehydrated, we decided to take him to the hospital and ask for an intravenous drip to be administered at the same time that tests were done to diagnose his illness. My son was terrified. It was his first experience in a hospital. I confess that I was terrified too. The clinical examination and his symptoms led the doctor to diagnose typhoid and hepatitis, but he tested negative for these diseases. Everything seemed to indicate that he had them, but in fact he did not. So, what was the origin of this severe vomiting? The doctor ordered an injection; then he went out. That’s when the reaction occurred. I knew perfectly well how to recognize an allergic reaction because both my father and I are allergic. I am sure that night God saved my son’s life and prolonged it. I cannot say how long it took before the doctor finally returned from his rounds. He immediately ordered an injection of the antidote to counter the allergic reaction.

Rogercito fell asleep. I watched his breathing carefully, not wanting to miss a single breath. He was alive. He was alive! He was not gone. Thank God. He was very sick, but alive. I wanted to cry.

Exhaustion and strong emotions overwhelmed me. My husband arrived to relieve me. It was very late. We had agreed that he would spend the night at Roger’s side so that I could return home to breastfeed my little Nataly, who was so weak and still so tiny. I told him about the incident with the medicine. “Thank God it happened when you were there,” he told me, “for I surely would not have given it any importance; I would have reacted like the nurse.”

I looked once more at my sleeping son. I was so sorry to have to leave him like that. I secretly checked his breathing again. I wanted to tell him so many things. Our friend, the pastor, was waiting for me. My husband had asked him to accompany me home, as the hour was late. I walked confidently, with a smile of gratitude, leaving a piece of myself on the stretcher in the emergency room.