Tag: my family

Off to the Hospital

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

Image result for images of telephone mess

Well, my aunt’s doctor wants to see me–not that they make it easy for you to call him back and ask what it’s about, or when he will be there: I still haven’t found that out–so I guess it’s off to the hospital.

I hope this is not for the Obamacare “Death is really nice!” pep talk. I’m under enough pressure for the time being, and I don’t want to have to sit there and listen to anything like that.

And now it’s time for me to try again to return the doctor’s phone call and get some information. Last time they managed to transfer me here and there and everywhere until they finally connected me with someone who never heard of Dr. So-and-so.

Thank You For Your Prayers

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

Psalm 46: “God is our refuge and strength…” Be thou our strength today, O Lord.

I must thank you all for your prayers.

As of this morning Aunt Joan is still breathing on her own, which I don’t think the doctor expected, and it remains to be seen whether she’ll respond to the medications. There is no healing that doesn’t come from God. As one of you wisely pointed out last night, she will live not one minute less, nor one minute more, than God has appointed to her.

In the meantime, life goes on, my work goes on: in fact, under the circumstances, it’s rather a relief to work, and I thank God for it.

So, everybody, thanks again for your prayers–and from now on, please, please feel free to make prayer requests here on this blog. I see all my comments, so if you send one, I won’t miss it. And I’ll post it.

Please Pray for Us

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

My Aunt Joan, the last of my family in her generation, was taken to the hospital this morning. The doctor says “It doesn’t look good.” He had me choose between allowing her to die or else administering medication–and, if need be, inserting a breathing tube–that may possibly, but not necessarily, help her to recover. Because I could not bring myself to refuse any reasonable chance, I said to proceed with treatment. If her condition doesn’t improve, then I’ll have to make another decision.

I have no meaningful knowledge of medical procedures. Nevertheless, the buck stops here and I can’t–and won’t–pass it on to anyone else.

We are Christians, and we know where we are going. Most of the members of my family have already been seated at the Lord’s table. It’s not something that we have to fear. The part that truly, deeply hurts is to be left behind without our loved ones.

All I can do is to ask my Lord for guidance. Please join me in that prayer.

And I’ve posted this hymn, Behold the Mountain of the Lord–because it stirs my soul so deeply, and allows me to feel the Holy Spirit at my side.

By Request, ‘Blessed Assurance’

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

I’d never heard this song before, so thank you, Erlene, for suggesting it.

I don’t know why, but I imagine this song as a lullaby–the kind my Grandma would have sung me, a baby on her lap. She died when I was only 11 years old, but lately I’ve felt like she is very near to me.

Thank you, O Lord my God, for that.

Back From the Nursing Home

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

The ambulance finally appeared, and my aunt was transported to the nursing home and installed in a semi-private room where the other patient had a great big TV set which was playing Spanish soap operas.

We’re all upset, we prayed it wouldn’t come to this: but it has, and there was nothing we could do avert it. Poor Aunt Joan. For most of her life–she never married–she and her sisters traveled to almost every country on the planet, back in the 1950s and 60s when people didn’t just hop on a jet plane and go wherever they pleased. You had to have a lot of get-up-and-go, to be a world traveler back then.

There is something wrong with the way our civilization today handles the closing chapter of a life.

Well, there’s nothing for it but to trust in God, who tells us nothing  but what is altogether true, and who will keep His promises. Whatever may afflict us now, it’s temporary. When we wake in God’s Kingdom, in His house of many mansions, we’ll be hard-put to remember what was hurting us.

But for the time being, it’s a rough ride.