March Madness

March, the one month I dread every year. The month that has significant heartache. March 3rd, 2020, I found out I was pregnant. Yup, at the old age of 38. I was happy, sad, anxious, worried, scared. Every emotion possible, I experienced. My heart still aches wondering what it would be like raising a boy.

March 1st, 2024. I found out John was in the ICU on a vent. We had NO idea what the results were. Would he have brain damage, would he die laying in a hospital bed with no one around him. Would he squeeze my hand if I snuck in to see him? Don't ever underestimate my level of crazy.

I called a friend that morning to find out how I could sneak into the hospital to see if I could find his room. No joke, that friend suggested "door dash". That morning, I plotted the perfect plan. I was going to swing by a fast-food joint, borrow a door dash bag and sneak into the hospital checking every floor until I found TWO deputies guarding a room.

I thought about this plan for hours. I calculated every possible scenario I might encounter while making the delivery. My first thought "what if they know me, what if they know who I am". Believe it or not, my hair is extremely distinctive.

I called that friend back and told her I couldn't do it. I didn't want to risk being seen or thrown out. That friend offered to do it. I agreed and waited for her call. Around 5pm that night she was finished with work but on the other side of town. I told her to forget I'd find another way. Guess what? I found another way.

Saturday morning, I found out a friend was actually admitted to the same floor John was on. I instantly jumped up, got dressed and headed for the ICU. I checked in at the desk to get the exact room number and guess what, she was released from the ICU and brought to a different floor. I was devastated, but still on the hunt for John.

As I walked towards the elevator, I looked at the signs for the ICU. I made my way to the floor just to see if I could find the two deputies watching his room. There were three different doors, and I had no clue which one to go through. I just waited in the hall acting as if I was waiting for an elevator. I see a nurse walking out of one and I peeked my head in, no deputies were insight.

I didn't want to be too obvious, so I jumped on the elevator and went to the floor she was on. Part of me felt bad knowing the only reason I stopped was to find John. It was deceptive. Looking back, I'm rather disappointed in myself. Yet, I was desperate. We literally knew nothing of his medical condition.

I stayed for an hour before leaving. She was excited to see me and it was refreshing to be a positive light to someone else. As I walked out of the hospital my eyes were looking everywhere. I never did see any deputies.

On March 3rd I found out through another unknown source (not one I care to reveal) that John was out of ICU and breathing on his own. I sobbed when I heard. I knew God had bigger plans for him. A year later and I still don't know what his plans are, but I know they consist of greatness.

John was unresponsive for an unknown amount of time. I've heard 15 minutes, and I've heard 5. The guy who was in holding with him, told John the story. He said "you were gone, it was 15+ minutes before anyone found you. The guard did CPR and you were blue, he even called your time of death. The nurse came over with Narcan and said ""nope we aren't done with him yet"", that nurse saved you."

It took John three months to tell me that story. He cries every time he does. I, still, to this day want to know who that nurse was so I can thank her. So, I can give her the biggest hug and tell her she has NO idea who she saved. She saved a man whose heart is pure, and soul is kind.

John also speaks of a young female nurse who shares the same birthday. He said, "she had to sit with me, and she was there most of the time". John continued to tell me that this young lady would talk to him about God and his purpose and plan for John. Whatever her words were, they resonated with John, and he started to comply with his medical.

I could never be a nurse. It isn't my cup of tea. Those of you who are, I truly hope you know how appreciated and loved you are. I know you're under appreciated and valued, but to your patients and their families, we are grateful!

If you see me this month looking more crazy than usual, give me some grace. I'm doing the best I can with all these thoughts. I promise, I am fine but a little more overwhelmed than usual. Be patient. This too shall pass.