This week has been a rough one, I will admit. My friend, Nate, has Crohn's Disease and he had a really bad flare up. This ended up involving many trips to the emergency room, holding his hand as he yelled and breathed heavily, telling nurse after nurse his information, texting family and friends, sending them updates, and lots and lots of waiting.
Crohn's Disease is an all too familiar disease, as I have dated someone once with it. It's an auto-immune disorder where the body attacks itself. They have to be super careful of what they eat, take good care of their bodies, and find a medication that works for them. Even then, flare ups are often normal without a warning, and they're left, curled up on the floor, throwing up and in intense pain.
On Sunday, I spent about 6 hours in the ER, with 3 or 4 of those hours, just waiting for some care to come. My anxiety was running because I had a job I needed to finish up and had been originally planning to use that time to get it done. Alas, the job would have to wait and my friend needed me now. I wouldn't dare leave his side at a time like this.
"Tomorrow," I told myself "I can get that job done and things finished up."
I went home exhausted and slept for maybe 3 hours, and got up, and went to work.
I was tired at work, but pulled through. Came home and checked on Nate. He seemed OK. I was only a bit concerned because he still seemed really tired and sick, and usually, he just bounces back the next day after one of his flare ups. An hour later, he called me asking for an extra towel. I came back, and found him in the same state he was the day before. I stayed with him as he threw up more, showered, and called his parents. I began noticing that his pain was rising to a new level. I hadn't seem him this bad before. Eventually, I talked with his dad, and it was decided we had to go to the ER again. His parents and his fiance (my best friend) asked to stay updated.
We showed up to a new hospital this time, hoping for better service and some answers. We went through the same procedures again, but this time, he could barely sit in a chair. He moved and turned in pain and sometimes grabbed my hand, squeezing it in pain as we waited. We decided we shouldn't wait anymore in the lobby. If it was just going to be another 4 hours of waiting, it was pointless. Just as we got up to leave, a nurse director came out and asked for everyone's attention. We stopped in the middle of the room and listened to her out of courtesy. That's when she noticed Nate, bent over double in pain and asked for his name. Minutes later, we were being led into a room, getting care quickly. I was amazed and so grateful. I really didn't want a repeat of the night before.
I had brought my job stuff to work on, but I just couldn't focus in the hospital. Yet, knowing I was running out of time for my job then began to stress me out and the client had messaged me that day, saying she was getting anxious about when I would get things done ( I don't blame her, my own anxiety was running high about it). So many things were piling up and I had no clue how I was going to get everything done. And yet, my friend was still in great pain and watching him made me feel so helpless. I soon realized that I was feeling overwhelmed, whether I was willing to acknowledge it or not.
Here's where I soon realized my feelings: I wanted to be mad at him for being so sick. I realized I wanted to yell and say, "Stop being sick! Stop this! This isn't supposed to happen!" And the second I let those angry thoughts out and acknowledge them, I began to cry. I began to empathize with his pain and feel so sorry for him. Fear then ran through me as I wondered if we would ever be able to get help and figure out what is wrong. And I felt horribly guilty because I felt like I was totally useless. I didn't know anything about medicine, wasn't that good as a caretaker or even as an empathizer. All I could do was carry the papers nurses gave me and walk with him throughout the hospital.
I soon texted people, needing all the prayers possible. I didn't know what to do, but I needed God's strength and some kind of miracle to start happening. I didn't want to be at the hospital, but I couldn't tear myself away.
We went home, not as late as the night before, which was good. But I still stayed up late, working on a job that was due in a day or so. The next day, I felt even worse going into work, I was running on little sleep for the past few days. Nate seemed to be OK in the morning before I left, but then, I got a text in the afternoon saying he was back in the hospital. I wanted to throw my hands up in the air, defeated. I didn't know what was going on or how to deal with it anymore. I soon talked with various people and figured out what happened and his latest condition. After work, I went to the emergency room and saw him. He had more tubes, but he wasn't yelling or bent over in pain. He was stable and for that, I was grateful for. I merely walked in, smiled, and said, "I thought we agreed last night that while I want to hang out with you and have quality time, that the hospital wasn't the place to do it?" He replied, "I understand. I don't want to be here either, but all up in here" he gestured to his stomach "won't cooperate."
Despite my overwhelming feelings throughout the entire process, I did make it a point to laugh and joke around. It keeps things light-hearted and bearable. We joked about some of the weird doctors and nurses, told funny stories, and I probably just acted silly at some points. I don't think I could take being so serious through the entire process; it would just be too depressing. I was also super grateful for my friend Rahel, who was right next to me every step of the way. I couldn't have gotten it through without her. It was with her help that we got to the ER, texted family and friends together, asking for prayer and keeping them updated, and just bearing with me throughout the entire process. After spending 2 intense days together, I saw her in the third and she yelled, "Hannah! Come and cuddle with me and get some sleep! Aren't you exhausted?" I just laughed and jumped onto the bed and said, "You bet I'm exhausted!! Dude, I'm so tired."
We also had other friends help us out too, and for them, I'm grateful as well. Their prayers definitely got things moving and gave us strength. People went and visited Nate and really came together to help take care of him. Things aren't all taken care of yet, and Nate is still in the hospital, but his fiance, Kara, is with him now (she was also mighty worried about him) and he seems to be improving. Keep him and others in your prayers as we go through this. And thank you for everything you've done.
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