Bread Crumbs

Just over 2 years ago, a series of events happened that were miraculous.  I’ll retell that story in summary version. 

Manny had been on TPN only 3 months.  All seemed fine.  He went with us to the Florida State Fair and was feeding giraffes.  He went to bed fine that night.  In the middle of the night he woke up SCREAMING in pain.  He could only tell me his “tummy” hurt which could mean anything in the front chest.  He had a new broviac (only a week) so that was the most likely culprit of the pain.  Which is a serious emergency so it got me to the hospital quickly.

Once we got there, the pain seemed to subside and he then went “non-responsive”.  He was so out of it that they did a lumbar puncture on him and he didn’t flinch.  This caught the attention of the ICU staff.   

That day, the PA for the ICU just happened to be someone who knew Manny and could vouch for his normal state of being and that the way he was acting was NOT right.  This convinced the ICU doctor to come take a look at him.

The ICU doctor just happened to think of this wild and out there possibility. He had seen it once before. He asked if Manny was having unusual stools.  He was.  So this led the doctor to do an ultrasound. 

The ultrasound didn’t show what the doctor thought it would but instead showed a very diseased gallbladder. 

This saved his life as his gallbladder had already died and ruptured. 

There is NO way that a screaming child would make someone think “gallbladder”.   In fact, just 2 months earlier, his ultrasound of his gallbladder was fine. 

So the miracle is that the proverbial bread crumbs were left to be in the right place with the right staff asking the right question to order the right test to look in the right body part.  This series of events saved his life.  I was told that this kind of thing is usually found on autopsy. 

God loves Manny.  He is in His capable hands. 

That leads me to today.  I don’t see the breadcrumbs laid out yet.  But I’m trying to have faith that I will eventually. 

September I did a speech.  Some people who were there liked it and invited me to their convention in Canada.  So this date was set up MONTHS ago.  Tickets were bought weeks ago.  Travel arrangements set weeks ago.  Bags were packed.  Clothes set out for this morning.  Alarm set for 5:30am. 

But at 2am, Manny woke up breathing really weird.  It was severe respiratory distress.  Heart rate over 200. Breathing rate 60-80. Chest was retracting.  And he was desatting.  All while on bipap and 8 liters of oxygen. 

We prayed. We did everything medically we could do at home.  We realized, he was headed to the hospital.  And I didn’t have the equipment to drive him here safely.  So I had to do something I’ve never done … call 911.  They came.  It was no biggie.  I was already packed.  Manny was scared initially but then liked being in the ambulance.

 

We got to the hospital and he was a bit improved by being awake but still having troubles.  They did various medicines and treatments.  He perked up.  He was doing quite well in fact.  Until he would drift to sleep then all the symptoms would come back. 

Eventually, they decided he was stable enough to go to the regular floor and not be in ICU.  Great news.  With pneumonia, he could teeter either way.  Tonight he will either do great and show great improvement with all the meds/treatments he's on or he will struggle and we will head to the ICU. 

So my issue is … God knew what date and time I was supposed to leave for Toronto.  If it had been even 3 hours later, I would have been on my way to Canada and no way to turn around and come back.  So for some reason, it became VERY clear that I was supposed to be HERE. 

Was the plane going to crash? I would have been in a car wreck on the way to the airport? No way to know.  But I can either be upset OR trust that God had a plan. 

I’m just hoping I’m paying enough attention to notice all the bread crumbs He’s leaving.